Learning how to spell (AGAIN)

The benefits of predictive dictionary will be endorsed by anyone who uses a personal computer or it's fancier brethren, including the iPad, Apple Inc.'s latest gift to the techno-savvy world that even your's truly is guilty of being addicted to. However, what we have seemingly overlooked is how dependent we are on our gadgets to correct our spelling errors as we keep hitting key after key. Gone are the days when you would have to hit a single key, at least thrice, to type the correct alphabet, as we framed our first text messages using the Short Messaging Service on the then-newly-introduced cellular phones in the 1990s.
While the purpose of the dictionary is to eliminate spelling mistakes, punctuation marks and record an overall increase in efficiency of writing, no one seems to have spared any thought to the consequent decreased ability of adults to spell.
An acquaintance, whose line of work requires him to work on the Web for the most part, recently asked me to spell out the word, "assistance" to him, when he was filling out an admission form for his daughter. "I want to know if you spell the first set of 's-es' with just one 's' or a double 's,'" he said.
While one such incident wouldn't prompt me to write about it online, I noticed how depending* I had become on the dictionary's help for every piece of writing I did using some or the other form of digital media.
With no intention whatsoever to sound hypocritical, I must admit I truly enjoy the blessing of technology that saves me the trouble of typing out every single letter. However, the realization that I may well have forgotten how to spell some crucial daily words has obviously bothered me enough go write about it.
Can we find the right balance? If so, where do we begin?
As creatures of habit, who thoroughly enjoy the benefits of technology, may be we could start out by making a conscious effort to spell words that seem lengthy or difficult to us.
Have you ever had the dictionary predict a word that was not the one you intended to write in a sentence? It isn't uncommon to hear people narrate embarrassing experiences that resulted from the use of a wrong word In a different context.
Dedicating five more minutes of your time to ensure that your document does not leave you red in the face seems like a good way to keep the predictive diction* in check.
How many of you reading this article found words that were out of place thanks to the predictive dictionary I used while typing it out?
At least a couple, eh?
Thank God, we haven't let our fancy gadgets come in the way our ability to read and comprehend words, yet!

depending* should read "dependent"
diction* should read "dictionary"

THE SECRET

While most of us educated, liberal and well-informed members of society want to believe that there's a method to everything in life, and spend thousands of millions of dollars on scientific research to assert our supremacy in the universe, there is one element of our existence that has challenged every genius, and continues to remain unpredictable - death.

It is this uncertainty to death that is hard to come to terms with. We all live in denial - no one talks about it. We either pretend that we will never die, or that death is a distant reality we choose not to think about. It is taboo to talk about the death of a living person, and it is ingrained (irrespective of culture and continent) that you shall not speak of death. However, the biggest irony of death is that it's the best kept secret in the world that everyone already knows.

What is it that we find most disturbing about death? Have you ever asked a grieving person that? You probably think I am out of my mind to even suggest it. It's just 'inappropriate'. And as much as I hate to admit it, you're probably right. For as long as civilization goes, we have refused to speak of death because we are afraid. Like the child that pretends to fall ill to escape an exam he hasn't prepared for, we are not prepared to face death.

Through this article, I'm only trying to learn for myself, if death would be any easier to cope with if we spoke more about it; if we discussed it more casually than making it out to be this masked monster in-wating. Death is a reality that no one can escape. You could be the most powerful or the most dreaded man in the world, but neither sophisticated weapons nor armors will help you beat death.

In a world that is torn apart by ideological and economic differences, if death is the only uniting factor, should we be taking pride in considering ourselves civilized? My dear friends, death is the second most natural phenomenon after life. When we don't question the birth of a young one, let us attempt to be stronger in the face of death. When we lose a loved one, let's try not lose faith in our own existence; at least until the time when some great mind solves the mystery surrounding it.

I LOOKED FOR YOU

I looked for you,
They said you were gone
Beyond the real circle;
A shadow on a dark night,
Not but a miracle.

I looked for you,
They said you were gone
With ache, not hope;
Summoned by a new wave
Not but for wealth to rope.

Bereft I looked for you,
They said you were gone
And the sun didn’t shine no more;
Songs of grief echoed within
Fading away the days of yore.

But I looked for you,
And they said, you were gone.

MIRROR TRUTHS

I stood there looking back at her; she wore an empty look, her eyes said nothing.
“It’s been a year,” I pleaded. Again, she said nothing. Her eyes, the same empty sockets of black, refusing to give away the emotions running through her- but one thing I could tell for sure, she was determined.
I bowed my head in defeat. I had lost this bout even before it started. My only argument was, ‘But I am happy.’ Hers, was the Truth.

It was over a year ago —
“I will survive...,” I had proclaimed, inspired by the Mariah Carey number, which won’t feature lower than No.5 on any of the popular break-up song charts. I had hummed that tune waiting in the BEST bus for the traffic to clear, I had sung it aloud (so loud, that the neighbours threatened to push for legal action against me if I indulged in such grave a crime again). At that time, it seemed to have worked for me. I had squeezed my memory dry of all the good times and filled up the void with hatred for the man. Voila, that was the refreshingly new, “ME”! I eagerly looked at myself in the mirror; confident of seeing a reflection of the thrill I was feeling. But as I stood there, I saw instead a straight-faced image; she wore an empty look, her eyes said nothing.

Months passed —
I refused to look into the mirror anymore, convinced it was lying. I knew I was happy, I could feel the rush of adrenalin to prove my worth to the world. I had a job I liked, and if that wasn’t enough I was even halfway decent at what I did. I made up with the friends I had almost lost, and indulged in my sole greatest passion – theatre.
It was at a performance in January that I met my to-be-husband’s mother. As he often teases me, “she went shopping to India and picked you up for me.” And although I refuse to believe it when he tells me, I know that is the truth.

It’s been 9 months since —
And I know I am happy to be loved the way I always wanted to be. I have a man who dotes on me, who truly wants to marry me. There are no secrets with him, and certainly no room for prejudices. There’s only the unfaltering commitment to each other and the other’s happiness.

I face the deceitful mirror again, this time, searching anxiously for the reflection of contentment. But it was the same haunting image staring at me. I stand there looking back at her; she wears an empty look, her eyes say nothing.

Kashid is Beautiful and Two’s Company!!!

Alibaug it would be! By virtue of selection and elimination and availability, of course, we embarked on our mini trip over the weekend. With ‘khakra’ and guava juice for company, we commenced what we’d remember more for the journey than the actual stay; not because there was anything extraordinary about it, but because it was what we spent most of our time doing ;)
A brief 15 minutes at the Alibaug beach was enough to convince us both that this was not where we wanted to spend our weekend. We struck (what we wanted to believe was) a good deal for an auto rickshaw to drive us to Kashid. But we were destined for greater adventure en route.
While the bumpy roads were a constant reminder of the streets back in Mumbai, the pollution in the air was conspicuous with its absence - serving as a pleasant reminder that we were away from the city where the only smell bracing your nostrils other than that of carbon monoxide is that of carbon dioxide, or other harmful pollutants.
Having travelled for 30 minutes or so, our journey was brought to an unexpected halt by the members of the local municipal authority attempting to restore a bus that had strayed off its course.
Another 45 minutes it was before the road was cleared by a cop striving to control the traffic that was getting restless by the minute. A man who spoke the local dialect, he’d make time in between to catch up with the occasional known face stuck in the jam.
But it was indeed our auto driver aka ‘Schumi’ who took the cake as he made past the dusty lanes - which became narrower at every bend - like a man on a mission. It was just what we needed to spice up our trip. Holding onto the sides of the three-wheeler for dear life, as our man revved the vehicle to make up for the time lost, we couldn’t help but admire his focus on the job at hand. He sped on the bumpy dug up roads and was irritatingly cautious on their smoother counterparts. Amusing as it was, we realised it was all about the comfort of the familiar and the fear of the unknown.
Like my companion pointed out, the journey brought an old song “Yeh kahan aa gaye hum” to mind. And rightly so, for the journey was about to move into it’s new phase!
It was then that a spectacular scene caught our attention. The silver shoreline emerging in the distance, glistening in the afternoon sun, made an almost divine spectacle. The waves lashed against the foot of the overhanging cliff, and the shore, occasionally made way for a rocky landscape, as the swelling waves surged and ebbed rhythmically. The palms lining the shoreline where it met the road were all that were needed to complete the scenic view.
There was no need for conversation any more as we lapped in our beautiful environment, smiling at the wisdom of our decision to not stay back in Alibaug and travel deeper into the islands.
Next on the agenda was scouting for an inexpensive yet ‘clean’ place to live in which didn’t take much time. Even as we reeled from the exhaustion of our journey, it was the excitement to tread the long stretch of sand that got the better of us. A quick nap for an hour was all it took to rejuvenate us.
Getting our bearings right, we headed for the beach. Sparsely populated by the odd group of revellers, it was easy to find our own space as we sat by the sea, listening to the sounds the waves were making, narrating incidents from our lives, stories we both knew; we had both heard on more than one occasion from the other. We were at peace! Having lived through a really tough phase together, we knew it was the strength of our friendship nurtured with complete trust that had got us so far – bruised yes, but unhurt!
As the various hues of red and blue blended in the sky at sunset, and the sun dipped in the distant horizon, nature cast a spell around us that seemed to last forever. But, we had evidently not seen enough! The pitch black night sky that took over was an overwhelming contrast to the canvas that had graced our vision only moments ago. However, the stillness lasted only until the first star shone its light upon us, soon followed by a million others that scintillated from the black carpet like brilliant crystals adorning a dark velvety fabric.
While gazing at the stars we re-discovered our childlike joy on spotting the Ulsa Minor, Orion and of course, the favourite Pole Star.
This is why we had taken off from the city - to regain our sanity and restore our ability to do ‘nothing’ and still be happy. And there was no doubting that! We were happy!
Over dinner, we spoke little; leaving ourselves to shamelessly overhear conversations of other guests living in the villa over the music playing from my friend’s mobile phone. An Indian couple - living in China –who got married late in life – and doted over their young daughter – was visiting the country after seven years – is what we learnt of one family who was sitting at the adjoining table for dinner. I said, ‘shamelessly’ before, didn’t I?
However, peaceful it would not be for very long as a large group (a joint family or group of family friends as it appeared) decided to play disc jockey for the rest of the night. Preferring to play blaring music off loud speakers, forcing us to retire to the sanctity of our room and call it an early night.
Not a naturally peaceful sleeper, I slept for an undisturbed 10-hour stretch. A good thing, considering there was more travel on the cards for the day.
A sumptuous breakfast was followed by three pit stops in different 6-seaters to reach Murud-Janjira, another tourist locale situated deeper in to the islands. Not very different from Kashid, this place bore a characteristic similarity to the state of Goa (other than the colour of the soil, which my geologist companion brought to my notice). We were headed for the fort or ‘janjira’, situated in the middle of the sea. We picked up hats on our way to protect our heads from the overbearing sun and bumped into a group of howlers, who would not be shied away even by a straightforward confrontation. However, relegating them to the background, we reconnoitred the fort with our guide who proudly traced the history of the structure to years ago in the pre-Independence era.
Once back on shore, we realised we were running out of time and had to make it for the ferry leaving from Mandva for Bombay. Again the three stops in 6-seaters brought us to our villa in Kashid where lunch was followed by quick good-byes and settling the bill.
But it was not going to be any less adventurous for us on our way back, was it? We trekked back to the main beach, hoping to find a rickshaw only to have a girl in a speeding car attempt to pull my hat off my head (so much for adventure) and all rickshaw drivers refusing to take us to Mandva. Heard of good things happening to good people, though? ;) A 6-seater with seven people already seated in it came to our rescue. The accommodating locals made place for the two of us as we reached a little village from where we hopped into another 6-seater, and then, yet another till we reached Alibaug. But as luck would have it, it was another 6-seater that got us until 20kms of Mandva and dropped us to fend for ourselves. It was only then that a rickshaw driver decided to be so kind as to drop us to Mandva for double the usual fare.
Not a fitting end yet, though to an adventurous trip, I dare say. This time round it was the weather that decided to play a vicious trick on us. Chilly winds sent shivers down our spines as the ferry swayed in the rising waves before reaching Gateway of India. The 90-minute journey seemed never-ending until we could see the glittering sky-line of Bombay in the distance. It was only then that hope returned, with a sense of inborn warmth to restore a sense of normalcy to the weather.
Truly a weekend spent more on the roads (and sea) than on land, but one that underlined the importance of peace and natural beauty.

“FRISKED AT THE AIRPORT? THAT’S RUDE!”

As ridiculous as the demand had seemed when it was made, it only seems more ridiculous that it has been ceded to. The defence chiefs have been added to the list of those exempted from security checks at airports. The government wasted absolutely no time in yielding to the displeasure expressed by those responsible for the nation’s security at being frisked at airports.

My question is not to the Civil Aviation Minister Mr. Praful Patel who promptly defended the move as imperative so as not to dishonour the defence chiefs, but to the three men in uniform who ought to be more aware of the security concerns of a nation ripped apart by violence from the internal communal divide, than any other legislative, judicial or executive representative of the democratic machinery.

Not once do I want to seem as questioning the integrity of those in whom the security of the nation rests! My concern lies not in the exemption of these men from being frisked at airports but from the fact that this would pave the way for an array of applications for immunity of a similar nature from other quarters.

The defence chiefs are justifying their demand, by citing the example of Robert Vadra—more known as the son in law of the iconic Nehru-Gandhi family— who got away without being frisked at the airport. But instead of pulling up the ministry on this irregularity, we’ve gone all out and supported the act by including some more to the exempted list.

Where does this perfidy of the civil aviation ministry, which remains a soft target for terrorist attacks, leave the security of the ‘Aam Junta’ that travels with these men and women who claim to be absolved of all perfunctory security checks by virtue of the position they enjoy within the fabric of democracy?

Instead of condemning the grounds on which Vadra is deemed beyond scrutiny at airports, we give in to the diplomatic drama that unfolds there-from.

And now that service chiefs have made it to the list, should we continue in our apathetic mode until there are a few hundred more such applications that come up for exemption on the same lines — that such mandatory security checks are derisive of the privileges they enjoy in India? Or should we wait until our skies are threatened by some terror group to take action?

Which of the two is more disdainful— the special privilege accorded to a nondescript Robert Vadra by virtue of his affiliation to a political family or the exemplification of the act by the highest ranking men in the services to earn a similar privilege— would depend upon individual sensibilities, but the underlying fact remains that neither was done in the interest of the nation.

HOLD MY HAND

As I pass through the crowds all day

I quietly listen to all they have to say,

But as I walk alone in the sand,

I just want you to hold my hand.

No reason to be with you, I know

Together we may never have a tomorrow,

But when my feet sink deeper into the sand,

I just want you to hold my hand.

You told me no future there would be,

I heard you out, and wheedled my heart to agree,

But if mid-way I fall down in the sand,

I just want you to hold my hand.

I laughed, I loved, I lived it all

Fearing the day you’d make the “goodbye” call,

But when I lie forever in the sand,

Oh, I just want you to hold my hand.

DESTINY

Embarking on the path of life

I was faced by many a crowd,

But no, not one, appeared to be

With such alluring qualities endowed

So as to fill my heart with glee,

When his thought to my mind surged

Or one, who would understand my silence

Much better than any spoken word.

On life’s this journey as I went along,

I encountered an honest man;

Who although just a name to me,

Became integral to every plan

That I had drawn for life ahead,

Oblivious to what life had in store

Entranced by that contagious smile

I screamed out to life, “Encore!”

The world I wove suited me just fine,

Unaware of life’s wicked game

I walked upon its treacherous lines,

Only to stumble and take the blame

For not holding back the reins of my heart

And setting it free to gallivant,

Ignoring the hovering deceptive shadows

That now make my soul wrench and rant

Just yesterday life seemed so perfect

And today I am torn apart

He was not wrong, Oh no, not he

I realise deep within my heart

For we laughed and shared like old friends do

Then why wasn’t it meant to be?

I guess it all boils down to what

The world has termed, “DESTINY”

LOVER’S WIN

Tell me the reason why,

My love can make me cry?

In a crowd, alone on a beach,

Tears are always within reach.

Your thoughtless words tear me apart,

And the indifference stabs my heart;

Is this the price to pay,

When ‘I LOVE YOU’ is all I say?

A smile from you I fondly treasure,

Your touch gladdens beyond measure,

Words can ne’er explain what I feel,

I only want you to love me for real.

Insecurity drives me insane-----

Show me how to live with it and not complain!

If pain is all that love brings,

Then why allure with roses and rings?

Is the answer to all my questions in

The fact that life’s a game that lovers win?

So come to me in spite of it all,

Love me so that I faint and fall;

Hold me in your arms tonight,

Even if tomorrow we must once again fight.

THE JOURNEY ... LIFE !!!

A pair of twinkling little eyes

Stare at you confused,

And then the sound of crying is heard

Leaving its spectator amused.

Not a drop of tear is shed,

Then suddenly silence prevails;

Now the tiny little eyes

Flaunt at you their amused gaze.

In the moment that passed in the seemingly innocent exchange,

The child is now convinced

That deceit thy name is the game,

In this world that beckons it

With arms invitingly held out;

The new born readies itself

To learn what life's all about.

The path thats destined for the little one

Is soft as velvet and hard as stone;

For thats the way to live life dearest-

Seldom in a crowd and oft alone!

Through the journey faces change,

They have always in the past;

Leaving behind "moments" that we remember

Till we finally breathe our last.

Those moments when the whole wide world

Was too good to be true;

And when it was synonymous with hell,

Keep coming back to you.

The newly born's little soul

Has a long way to go,

Before it is bruised and bleeds sore

By the indifference that people show.

Anyone who ever lived

Has struggled to be free,

If not from oppressive rulers,surely his fellowmen-

Whilst expressing his individuality.

This child, as man, will crib over

The opportunities that he might miss;

But ne'er shall he forget the bliss

Of his first passionate kiss.

Also, appreciation and honour are

The desserts that he'll relish.

Abundant they may be though,

First find them he must, and then cherish.

A staff that will be his companion for life

Is the one called "true love",

It'll come to him when the time is right

For its purer than the white plumes of the dove.

But now, "What is life?"

Is the searching eyes' only query,

To which the simple reply is,

"My dear, you'll soon see."

... AND THE CURTAINS FALL !

The taxi sped past the luscious greens of the racecourse on one hand and the mews on the other, as the lyrics of the song playing from the radio filled up my head, and a tear rolled out of my eyes… Reality had finally hit me. After 50 days of willfully choosing to live in my dreams, my utopian world was destroyed as easily as the bridge made from a pack of cards.

We had travelled the same route the first time I had met him, and today, memories of the 15 months together clamored in my head, almost mockingly. It seemed as if a lifetime had passed me by in the brief period. Getting on with life without him seemed like a herculean task. Everything had seemed so perfect; we’d eaten, slept and watched movies together, danced together, and could talk endlessly to each other! But it wasn’t love… not for him! He had candidly proclaimed a number of times that “WE” wouldn’t last. Perhaps, the relationship didn’t seem as beautiful to him as it did to me. He was always looking; looking for beauty outside of the “WE”.

But the distant hope of things working out just never seemed to die; until today of course! In spite of consciously avoiding his thought, I realized that I had always been thinking only of him; even after he parted ways with me. The phone calls had nearly died (‘nearly’ was as close to ‘totally’ as possible). He had found something that interested him more. Another object of affection which suited his needs more than I could ever provide emotionally and physically. I was faced with the most difficult task assigned to me in my lifetime. Murphy had played his wicked trick on me once again, and I had to emerge as unscathed from this episode as I could manage.

It was then that I stepped out from being the woman who was in love, to one who didn’t care much for emotions. It’s quite paradoxical though, that the man who brought me in contact with my emotions was scared away by their intensity. I had given a man a lot of importance in my life without his consent. He had always disconnected me from his emotions (that he claimed to have none is a statement I didn’t believe then and refuse to believe). As I viewed the situation from a third person’s perspective, I could only laugh at the hopeless fool I had made of myself. When he said, “One person always gives more than the other in a relationship,” I volunteered to be the ‘giver’, thinking this probably meant that he was seeing the “WE”. Little did I realize that the statement applied to a ‘relationship’ and not to something that could at best be termed as an ‘affair’; one that even he refused to acknowledge.

As these thoughts afforded some much needed clarity, I asked myself, “Am I not better off now without all the emotional assault that my heart had to go through periodically when I was with him?” And for the first time in 15 months there was no confusion, as I could hear a strong resounding YES that came unadulterated from my heart. I wiped the tear away from my face and smiled back at life, as if to say, “Bring it on… I can take this and much more!”

NEVER MEANS NOT EVER ...

We were poles apart; in fact, if there could be a complete opposite for me, it had to be him. It was no wonder then, that there had been instant attraction.

Thirteen months ago, when I had met the man for the first time, I hadn’t expected anything to come from the meeting. Intelligent and smooth—yes, those were my first impressions of the man who had casually taken the entire rendezvous through, without any of my usual nervousness and discomfort on being alone with a stranger.

But it hadn’t stopped at that! We met again, and again, and again… We would meet after office hours, run errands together, and catch up for a ride by the sea-face— all to just get a glimpse of each other during the day. The process had begun. I was headed for the inevitable, preferring to ignore it; but I told you there was attraction, didn’t I?

That was Phase I… I choose to refer to it more appropriately as the “process”, one that diverted my life off the highway to one of unexpected peaks and dips—a thorough emotional roller coaster. It was time for Phase II… This one’s aptly called “reality strikes!”

Meeting up everyday was no longer the norm; in fact, it was taboo, lest he got bored!

It’s one thing to know that the one you love doesn’t feel the same way for you, but it isn’t easy to come to terms with the fact that you hold no real meaning in the person’s life, either.

“We’ll be very unhappy together,” he’d tell me. When he first mentioned that, I couldn’t help but think of the pace at which things had moved for him. While I had barely managed to get a grip on how I felt for this man, he had completed a mental analysis of our future together (rather the lack of it); but then, he had always been the faster one! My insecurity was cited as the reason for the conclusion that had been drawn. I accepted it! I had no choice, but to do so. There was no room for debate when he had made up his mind. I, for sure, wasn’t one who could help him look at things from a different perspective.

Actually, I had never even given our future even a thought after the first few attempts when curiosity got the better of me and I asked him how he had made up his mind without even giving it a chance. “… Because I don’t want it to work out,” he had said. Mindless questions sure did deserve ruthlessly honest answers like this one.

Having been strictly instructed to not regard him as my boy friend (that we did everything that a couple would, doesn’t hold much significance here, I believe) I made a conscious effort to not expect anything from him. Of course, being human (and being the rather emotional variety didn’t do much good), I slipped on multiple occasions only to be reminded again.

On one such occasion, when I had asked him why we were together in spite of no future, “you were more persistent than the others” is what he had said. The impact that those words left on my mind is one that’s difficult to negate. Reality had indeed struck a tight slap across my face at that moment. But I lived up to the “persistent” title by still being with him.

Today, as I reflect upon the journey so far, the only simple truth that remains my strongest reality is that I love him. It doesn’t do much to my self-esteem to repeat the three words, knowing fully that I will never get to hear the world famous line in response to them; but I say them anyways. After all, I am but a simple girl who wants to be loved by a man the way I love him.

But then, I’m also Never, which itself implies Not Ever!

‘OVER AND OUT’? NAH ... HALF WAY THROUGH !

It has been almost seven months since I first embarked on this emotional roller coaster and some ride it has been!!! I had almost seen a “THE END” sign flashing before my eyes two months ago, only to realise that I was being pulled back by the delicate strings that bonded us together and refused to give way under the tension…

What had started seven months ago, as a beautiful dream had seemed plain and simply- foolish four and a half months thence! Perhaps, because the dream was shattered, and I had been woken up from my siesta to confront the bitterest reality of my life; the man I was in love with was, in fact, attracted to one of my closest friends. The seeds had been sown long time ago and I had been supplied many hints to that effect. However, seeing life from the rose-tinted glasses, I had chosen not to believe the evident.

“I need you as a friend more than anything else just now,” he had said, a while ago…

That had been followed by his ever assuring (???), “I have always told you, there is no future for us together. What I share with you is nothing at all compared to what I have had in the past with others…”

And what finally jolted me to reality; the casually spoken, “Yes, I am attracted to your friend.”

As I lay on my bed that night, I had felt a vague emptiness within- an inexplicable void that had prevented me from thinking of anything. I had twisted uneasily, wondering why I couldn’t unleash the safely guarded tears and relieve the tension within. I attributed my lack of tears that night to the fact that the situation wasn’t worth my lacrimation. I had loved the man in all sincerity and having done no wrong, there was nothing there to repent about!

When I woke up the next morning, the realisation that I had always been an “option” for him dawned upon me; an option he chose to exercise when he didn’t have anything better to do…

In the days that followed, there was only more emotional adventure lined up for me… He developed this sudden dislike for my friend he was attracted to, over a trivial incident, and the dislike died out just as abruptly as it has stemmed. However, what seemed most inappropriate was that the entire episode had, in some inexplicable manner, worked to bring me closer to him than ever before. He had moved over from merely being the ‘attraction’ to the friend that I really like and more importantly ‘needed’. The frequent meetings had reduced to only the salsa turns on Tuesdays and Thursdays but conversation between us had never been better. I learnt not to expect anything from him and that arrangement suited him just fine. He seemed to be recovering from his “bored” disposition as well.

But I mentioned the emotional roller coaster to you, didn’t I? It was time once again for another dip from the high…

When the majority of the talking that you do in a day is to the same person, there is bound to be some attraction towards that other… And it was this realisation that led the downhill journey from my destination “High on Friendship” to the darker depths of unpleasant emotions that kept throbbing in my mind, reminding me that I would always be the LAST OPTION for him.

Carefully sifting through the days I have spent with him, I can point out only a day or two when he had chosen to spend time with me in spite of having other things to do. Perhaps I ought to be blamed for that in a way too because I have always made myself available to him whenever he has proposed that we meet up. I had, long before, already resolved to not expect any display of emotion or concern from him, for me. However, multiple incidents that encouraged me to think otherwise only ended to reiterate my belief in the resolution. Removing time for me has been last on the list of priorities. Promises have been made in vain and forgotten almost all at once. In spite of this persistent feeling of being an option, I could never see myself saying NO to an opportunity to see him…

However, the situation reached its lowest ebb today, when I sensed the uncomfortable vibes again after almost two and a half months; the vibes that had threatened me with a “THE END” signal, those that had shattered my dream and woken me up to face reality, the vibes that conveyed to me that he no longer needed me to be around… These vibes are strong and it’s probably only a matter of fifteen days till I hear the candidly spoken “Yes, I am attracted to…” from him once again. As destiny would have it, I am once again standing at the crossroads where I need to make up my mind about the path to tread to be happy, a path that does not require me to lose my friend in the bargain…

AN END THAT WASN'T THE END ...

I laughed, I loved, I lived it all

Fearing the day you’d make the “goodbye” call,

But that one day when I lie forever in the sand,

Oh, I just want you to hold my hand.

You might earn yourself the title of being ‘romantic’ by living in your fantasy world, but turning a blind eye to reality when its staring at you in the face, can only be termed ‘foolish’.

What had started five months ago as a beautiful dream, now, seemed plain and simply- foolish! Perhaps, because the dream was shattered, and I had been woken up from my siesta to confront the bitterest reality of my life; the man I was in love with was, in fact, attracted to one of my closest friends. The seeds had been sown long time ago and I had been supplied many hints to that effect. However, seeing life from the rose-tinted glasses, I had chosen not to believe the evident.

“I need you as a friend more than anything else just now,” he had said, a while ago…

That had been followed by his ever assuring, “I have always told you, there is no future for us together.”

And what finally jolted me to reality; the casually spoken, “Yes, I am attracted to your friend.”

These noncommittally spoken last few words had ensured that the array of emotions that I experienced for the man, ‘rest in peace’ forever. As I lay on my bed that night, I felt a vague emptiness within; an inexplicable void, that prevented me from thinking anything. I twisted uneasily, wondering why I couldn’t unleash the safely guarded tears and relieve the tension within. There were no answers, yet again!

But today, as I think about the whole situation, I am not prepared to live in the ambiguity that surrounded my relationship with the man. As he had always been so ‘honest’ with me, having nothing more to lose, it was time I faced the situation just as boldly. My worst fear of losing the man I loved had already been realised, and in a manner that could not have been any worse.

As I look for answers, the most significant of them all surges to my mind. The fact that my eyes were dried of any weeping tools that night, was simply because the situation wasn’t worth my lacrimation. I had loved the man in all sincerity and having done no wrong, there was nothing there to repent about! Carefully sifting through the days I had spent with him, I have discovered that contrary to my belief, I had barely known the man. I had believed him when he had said he cared… Did I say ‘cared’? Yes, of course he did…He cared enough about my friend to not get into a relationship with her, envisaging no future, but he didn’t even think about me once before conveniently getting in and out of something that meant so much to me. I’m sure he’d take pride in proclaiming himself the “B^%$*@D” that people supposedly refer to him as, but was this the man I was longing to be with forever?

A man who didn’t care for me at all! Had he ever considered me a friend, to begin with? Why was it that he had only hurt me all along, then? Why had it never occurred to me that being the second woman in his life was the worst thing that I had done to myself? I had given up every bit of my ego to be with him, and he had in turn, only bruised my little heart that had never been so savagely treated by any other. Where had I gone wrong? Perhaps, because I made the mistake of believing…

Today, as I sit down to write about the man I loved, in retrospect, I realise that I have learnt a lot about myself. I had never thought myself capable of loving someone with so much intensity; infact, I had always considered myself incapable of loving anyone. I had never thought I could trust anyone so blindly as I trusted him! And lastly, the most important of them all, I have learnt to love only when you are loved in return.

While that spells hope for me in the future, I need to dig deeper and ensure that all the emotions of this relationship are buried forever… Although it seems almost impossible at this point in time, I dare to use the cliché, that “Time Will Wipe Out The Pain.”

UNEXPECTED TURNS ...

“I speak to you more than I have spoken to anyone else in my life,” said the voice on the other side of the phone, in complete disbelief. All I could manage was a sigh… All the words in the English language seemed insufficient to explain the intensity of emotions that I was experiencing.

I had met him almost three and a half months ago; a casual meeting over coffee to see if he could help me get a job. And from that day in June, there had been no looking back. We had met at regular intervals, spoken everyday on the telephone, with the exception of days when either he or I had hit the bed without any realisation of the same.

I had graduated from ‑‑‑

“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! … Did he actually hold my hand???...”

“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! … Did we actually kiss???…”

To thinking ‑‑‑

“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Why isn’t he holding my hand??? …”

"Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Doesn't he want to kiss me anymore??? ... "

The journey that started then, many would say, has come a long way, but when I sit down and think about it, I wonder if it really has! Wasn’t it the same anticipation and anxiety, to meet this man sitting across the table, as I feel today, that I felt initially? Even then, I was discovering the man, and yet today, I am doing just the same. I didn’t know what I was doing then, and that, again, stands unchanged. So what are the things that have changed in the “mere” three and a half months, and do I really want the things that haven’t to be any different?

Although the same cloud of uncertainty hovers around us, I feel more secure when I am with him. I once had a friend tell me, “the worst feeling in the world is sitting besides someone you like, knowing that you can never have them forever”… And just the quote, had then brought tears to my eyes; but today, as I live the quote, my eyes have gone dry, refusing to cooperate with my heart. This dysfunction can be solely attributed to forceful restraint on the leash of emotions--a pre-requisite to get to know this man.

The first few meetings had made an impression about the man on my mind. I was aware, that having a way with words, he could charm anything remotely female, and maintain his spell until he decided it was about time the poor enchanted creature was relieved. You would know about the man, only as much as he was willing to tell you. A complete entertainer and a killer for older women, this man had a recipe that made him delectable to everyone who got as little as a tongue to him…(pun intended)…

Convincing myself that I was free from all forms of human charm, I went all out and took the risk of getting to know him, what remained to be seen was whether I could stand my ground or give in to his charm.

As I sit back and rethink my resolve, I can’t help but laugh at myself. The very fact, that I sit down to write about “US”, suffices to explain what I feel for him cause it makes him worth my time and brain space, that I would not have wasted on any one else. I was indeed naïve, to believe that I wouldn’t end up falling for this man myself. He has been a part of my every day that I have lived since I first met him…

But the ambiguity of his presence in my life leaves many questions unanswered; questions I don’t want to know the answers to… Perhaps, because the thumb rule of our friendship had been, ‘living for the moment’, and the deep-rooted fear lying in my heart, stems from acknowledging the fact that I have violated the rule from day one.

WHEN I FIRST MET HIM ...

The motorbike revved past the honking ‘yellow-n-blacks-on-fours’. Seated on the pillion, there were a million thoughts racing through my mind. Not knowing someone was one thing, but going with that one, to meet another, was something that could never be expected of yours truly. What gave me solace was that I kept reminding myself that I was a big girl who was going to meet someone for work. It helped keep my nervousness in control.

Seated where I was, I hadn’t even had the opportunity to see the face of this new friend clearly. It was all in a split second that we had met and contrary to the customary “hello” I had been greeted with “You are late for your first date.” Spoken completely in jest, the words brought a smile to my face - the first, of the series of smiles that were to follow throughout the evening. In retrospect, if I could go back in time, the one thing that I would like to change of the evening would be the fact that I kept smiling throughout. I must have made quite a hilarious sight perched on that chair at Barista, giggling away like an awkward teenager.

What seemed quite unbelievable was the fact that he seemed so perfectly at ease. I said to myself that such comfort came from years of knowing how to deal with silly shy creatures like me. But then, how was I to know anything? This was my first time with a ‘friend’ I didn’t know… Did I mention ‘friend’? Oh yes, that’s what I thought of him, when the other boy walked in. Suddenly, I was with two people – one who I had just met, and the other who I had met about 20 minutes earlier. Undoubtedly the 20-minute-old friend seemed more familiar, and of course, he was “Bawa” too… And that breeds familiarity in any corner of the world!

The “work” that we had met for was wrapped up in about 15 minutes and then I sat there laughing along with them, discovering things about my new friend! Apart from getting ‘hot’ coffee when asked for ‘cold’, there were many interesting things about him that I was learning. A complete contrast to the “shy” Pearl, he was a natural smooth-talker. He also successfully shook up the image of the conventional Parsi boy that I had in mind. Here he was, talking in his Parsi-accented Gujarati at one time, and discussing S.W.O.T. Analysis and Murphy’s Law, on the other.

After the friend left, I was quite unsure about what was to follow. To my relief, he suggested that we take a walk, as opposed to remain seated at Barista; at least that way, I would appear little less foolish even if I continued to smile, as he wouldn’t be able to see it. As we walked around Phoenix Mills discussing (if it can be called so, considering that I contributed barely 10%) Murphy and S.W.O.T., I kept wondering why he was taking the effort to do so. Hadn’t he already been nice enough to volunteer to help me without actually knowing me? And hadn’t I already been ‘weird’ enough for him? Perhaps he had some time to kill before he headed for dinner and that’s why he was spending it with me. And when he had bored himself enough, he decided that the washroom was a better place to keep him company!

Not very surprising considering that we were complete opposites! He was someone who took very easily to people, whereas I would take my time to get to know them. When he re-appeared, I thought I would free him from the torture of my company and suggested that we go home. I am certain that he must’ve been thoroughly happy at that! On our way back, he spoke to me of his love for curry-chawal and his fear of virgins. As we approached my place, I was, to my surprise, extremely happy with the company that I was in. I realised that nothing about the evening had been all that weird. I had met a nice person and spent some good time with him! Nothing at all seemed as absurd and as strange as it had at the beginning of the evening. Just as I thought of that, I wondered if I had in turn, ruined that boy’s evening completely thanks to my lack of conversation. He stopped his vehicle when we reached my building, and as I got off, he said, “We will meet again!” All I could do was smile…

So much for being polite and chivalrous!