Wednesday, March 10, 2010

worse than total agony of being in love - 5


The story continues to Part-5 after Part4 Part3 Part2 and Part1 

The slumber was broken with the sudden realization of teary eyes and a hint of smile.. Tears were the confusions of what was bitter, remembering of the lovely unforgettable lost past of the pain or the present setback… The smile had the show-off of the dimple.. The dimple which was once touched by his passionate care.. Likeness.. Love.. The smile was the reflection of joy that it had felt with the touch..

The touch.. The passionate touch.. The passionate first touch.. The first touch.. The first..

I was seeing those thrashed lips in front of me right now..

With broken heart, tired limbs and swollen eyes, I tried to look back at Priya who was still puzzled.. May be she was shouting for long.. I didn’t hear.. May be there was something urgent.. I didn’t notice.. May be I had to say something.. I didn’t reply.. May be she was clueless once again.. I did get puzzled too..

“What are you doing Di? I am here form last 10 mins now. Have been shouting and you are in your own world of deepening carelessness.. Are you sane or it’s once again that you losing your mind?”

What is she saying? I was right that she was shouting for long.. May be I was also right.. means I can still think, but why she doesn’t notice that I can think.. I am sane enough..

Or why she doesn’t notice what i am thinking at present.

“Oh! Is it?”

“Where have you lost Di? Kopal is also back.. She had come to you to ask for food but you didn’t pay attention to her too.. Are you ok?”

“I could faintly recall now.. Where is she now?”

“She is changing.. But where were you engrossed?”

‘Engroseed’.. Yes.. I was engrossed.. In the touch.. In the memory.. In the past.. With the One.. And in the present.. For the thought of that he would be leaving soon.. leaving for unknown.. complete unknown.. from where he won’t ever return back..

Two drops of tears.. and a lost dimple.. a pain of separation.. a lifelong.. beyond life.. killing of sensations.. reincarnation.. and two more tears..

“Can’t you see the news!”

“Ah.. Prasoon.. Oh My God!”

“Di.. Di.. are you alright? Di.. Kopal.. Call the doctor.. right now..”

worse than total agony of being in love - 4


The story continues to Part 4 after Part3 Part2 and Part1 

Life was going fine.. I was growing.. growing to become choosy, cynical, sentimental and demanding for my own space.. The day was very weird when I first saw the signs of physical maturity.. I could never realized the pain that mummi always suffered till I had the same in my belly.. I felt like vomiting, crunching my own stomach and then when I told mummi, the lines on her forehead with an exclamation and question mark .. ”oh! really??”.. and sudden reaction of something that had happened.. it took me a week to get out of the pain.. It had frightened me .. worried my parents… and Priya, my younger sister, was clueless of the realization of it.. the first time feeling that I had shared with them.. being a girl.. next 2-3 days were a self-questioning on myself.. looking through the corners of eyes.. not getting hold of my own physical self.. and then a feeling of self-pity.. uselessness and what-next-look.. I felt I was being noticed by everyone every time.. “I have done nothing.. it happened.. not my fault.. please say this to me.. its not my fault..” was the innocent scream and all days ended with my painful face on the shoulder of mummi.. Mummi who was there when I really needed her..

I wanted to tear my clothes.. come out of this unwarranted not demanded feeling of exhaustion.. It did end.. but it didn’t end inside me.. when mummi said that it would come again, I was disheartened.. didn’t want to bear it again.. I cried.. cried a lot.. but, had to accept the basic fact..

After a few days, there were other signs of development.. the development of shape of a woman.. may be I did want these signs.. kind of waited for it… I really felt ecstatic to get the woman beauty.. it was good and great enough to tell Priya.. “ look, I am now a grown-up.. you are still a kid.”

And that day for the first time I recalled Prasoon with passion.. I could see him standing on his roof.. stretching his arms.. wishing to fly.. I recalled, imagined and wished him to be there right then.. I opened my arms too and let the breeze fill my body with the abundance of freshness.. let it touch what it had never touched.. It was never there.. the new body.. the body of the woman.. the flow of transformation.. the culmination of waiting.. the start of new beginning.. the new woman in the surroundings wanted to be seen.. the way she was seeing herself..inside.. deep down inside..

“yes! I am the new woman around!!.. I wanted to declare..

I started feeling what Prasson would have felt.. the extension of myself.. stretching muscles.. new shapes.. the adventure.. new life.. new talks.. getting more on to me.. more of my life… my own space.. my own world.. living in my dreams.. I wanted to explore.. I wanted to explode.. fill my world with my things.. peculiarly chosen.. nicely put.. gently cared.. I felt the entire world looking at me and admiring the new me.. and when I opened my eyes.. It was all twinkling.. it looked like the entire world was celebrating.. for a moment, I felt like an angel.. the centre of celebration.. the only attractive attention of the day.. the only woman in the world.. the only passionate woman..

“Pankhuri.. Pankhuri.. where are you lost… “ Priya said.. It brought me back from the fairyland to my home, my couch and the news on the TV.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Pray 26/11


I could have said words; sentences a few…

Am sure it’s not going to do anything new…

Pages might be added; books can be made…

The scenes of the battle can never go fade…


The losses, the pains, the feelings unknown…

The anger, the tears, the sadness that has grown…

Nothing can be changed of the past now…

But we have to dig the reasons and how


The braves, the soldiers, the people who have gone…

The saved, the strongest, their smiles, their moan…

The eyes, the grin and the heart with no harm…

They live their life, with the spirit, with the charm



Let’s pray to God to make everyone strong

Let’s tribute to those who will always live long

Saturday, November 21, 2009

worse than total agony of being in love - 3


The Story continues to Part 3 after Part1 and Part2

The doorbell rang… It was a pleasant morning and the morning breeze came up with the loveliest surprise… my half eye was closed and then I jumped with my both eyes wide open now… Prasoon was standing there.. with a plate in his hand.. a handkerchief covering the something which he had in the plate… An average height guy.. not a kid.. not a man… but a gift to me… the sweetest good morning gift

He was slightly shy… a bit happy and more in hurry to leave the plate… did he feel my excitement! Did he know how surprising this gift was for me! Did he know I could die to live in that moment of getting his breath closest to my hair! Did he really get to understand my infinite living moments in those a few seconds…

Does he still know it all?

He was here… yes; he was in front of my vision… I was his vision… and in those seconds I let out all my jealously to pour in all others with the jealousy of my possession of the momentary gift

He smiled a bit and gave a signal to call some elder person in the home. I didn’t move…

He said, “Hello.. How are you?”

“I am fine…”

“Can you call your papa or someone…”

“Ok… wait a while… errr… what should I say to them… who is at the door? Leave it… mummmmaaaaaaa… see, someone is here…” I did want to start a conversation, but I couldn’t… Being a kid again… I wished I was smarter… I wished I could show my purpose.

I don’t know whether there was some secret jinn or something who stopped me or just that I wanted to stay there… From his side, there was no glue… there was no charm... there was no holding... there was no possession... there was no connection as of now... the space between two of us was filled with air which was not carrying any word now… still the last words he had said were giving the presence of a musical composition… may be I just wanted to listen him for long now… May be I would soon

The wish was completed… but, I was so lost that I couldn’t thank God for it… I wish I should have, the first day itself…

Mummi came, at the same instant asked me to leave… I couldn’t know whether I was stuck at this hands or to the plate... I kept gazing as I was going from there... Mummi also returned in two mins; without saying anything she transferred the sweets and put new ones in the same plate and went back to him…

Now I know it’s a ritual to not to let the person go empty handed…

I never want him to go empty handed from me… I never want him to go from me…

I asked Mummi, “why was he here? Just to give sweets; what happened?”

“His brother has got admission in the best college of India… He was very happy.. It was all to share the biggest joy to the bigger family… To all of us… We feel blessed.. “

I picked a sweet and went away... I saw him again..

Those innocent eyes… That smile… The purpose and him… The Inseparables…

I opened my books and started doing my homework… after 10 mins, I got stuck again: “what did mummi say? Best college!!! What is the best college? Why is he going there? Is he going to study something about; I don’t know what… May be papa would satisfy my answers… Do they study like me over there… Does Prasoon study like me? Does he study? Does he also add-subtract-multiply-mug up like us?”

I was swaying swooping in imagination of his open books, pen in his mouth thinking over something, the box-the Tiffin, and the innocent eyes… the smile and the purpose… everything on the books.. Everything for the best of the books…

Thursday, November 19, 2009

worse than total agony of being in love - 2


The Story continues to Part 2 after Part1

Prasoon was standing there… neither close to my presence, nor far from my vision… I felt the real pain when I was not even his vision… my heart felt jealousy to all those who were in his attention… May be this was the day when I first wanted my presence to obstruct his attention to anyone else. I wanted me to be in his complete territory… to surround him with my arms… to involve him with my words… to let me know what’s there in him that makes me melt… that makes me feel awe… that makes me feel lost of my own belongingness of self.

He was ending his teenage life and I was about to begin this journey soon... I was so excited to explore myself; was excited more to know what he has explored in these years of identity crisis. Standing at his rooftop he looked like a flow of maturity. His acceptance on his own self was in the stretching of his arms. He carried himself so beautifully as if he knew the movement of even the toenail of his body. His hands were like giant wings, lifting his weight, ready to pump him up to the glories of successes. He wanted to fly, he wanted to swing in his passions, he wanted to explore the unattained heights and then touch the beauty of the ground… His eyes had twinkling, saying about the dreams which were bigger than his shoulders, deeper than his courage and more adventurous than his own dreams. There was a sense of controlled flight. I wanted to be a part of that.

I first time noticed him, staring at me with those innocent eyes, giving a look of ‘hi…’ I just smiled. I tried to become more girlish… I tried to hide that as well. I was too young to mix the two controversial emotions and giggled at my full flow. He was still staring and smiling. Though I could have said him as my brother that time but it was just destined for the best of both of us that this brotherly feeling never found any place in my heart. Destiny had something else in her mind; though I didn’t know the word ‘destiny’ as well then…

I watched him daily; going somewhere; passing through our lane. He never wandered aimlessly like most of the other teenagers did. He always seemed with a purpose; of doing something. It never bothered me… When I was coming from the school in the afternoon or when I was playing my kid games, I saw him. He always seemed me a person with whom I would be in future; with whom I would be enjoying the coming days. I would talk to him for my kiddish things, girlish games and he would listen me endlessly keeping those two innocent eyes every time on me with the eternal smile..

But I never remembered him after he was not there. I still was a kid

Saturday, August 29, 2009

If... and only If !!!


I read this poem as part of my school curriculum. It’s been 13 years now and I remember the page where it was written in the book. The course was over, the poem was well read. The meaning as taught by teachers was well understood but the application was never taught. Some verses are not to be taught, they are there to just to be shown to you. May be that had clicked me sometime in early 2000s when I recalled this poem after someone stated the name of the poem in one of the institute lectures.


IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

-By, Rudyard Kipling


I want to write what I think about the poem; how it has guided me over the years; how it helps me to be saner every time the rule of practical sanity wins over the pure sanity; how it grows to make me long for growing within myself, looking for the corrections here and there first for me myself, preparing for a more presentable and understandable outlook and still accept that the things are still not there; how it gives courage to me to believe in forgiving, forgetting, foregoing, and forecasting the forthcoming uncertainties and still deal them as if I knew it all, I kept mum to dream it all in the reality; how it makes me fight for perfection not allowing my mistakes, make allowance for mistakes of others, dealing both with the importance and still knowing the virtue would prevail even if all this would be gone someday; how it shows me to keep gripping the feet on the ground, waiting for it to slip just to make me fall, making me look for more crippled form of land to show me that my feet are still not strong, my grip is still weak, I have a too long way to go before I can firm strong somewhere; how it leaves me to be left in crowd unnoticed, then makes me show difference once the crowd becomes listeners; how it empowers my hands to go stronger for a firm handshake and then makes me soft enough to caress the cheek of a small baby.

The poem is perfect in showing the different interpretations with the same set of words at different times of life or for different people in the same situation.

It makes you live fully, it makes you to let others live fully.

I wanted to write it all but now I don’t think that I should write anything, let’s leave it to you to interpret, feel, learn and swim, sway, fly in the flow of it.

P.S.: I have posted the video of my favorite player ‘Roger Federer’ reciting my favorite poem ‘If’ with his experience & learning.

<img source:>

Monday, August 17, 2009

Some old attempts... less than one year old...

It does make it redundant of having same sketches at two places, but i haven't made any new recently, also i thought that the blog is an appropriate medium for creativity and orkut being more like a display of creativity.

~Happy Day!!!

Friday, August 14, 2009

Wo kisna hai...


It was 7 years back when I got the last chance to decorate the Mandir at our Nani’s home for the special occasion of Janmashtmi. Since then things have changed drastically; we moved out, things moved on and now when I am not even 3 km away from the same divine place, I cannot go there for our the biggest festival.

I know we, read Mummi, brothers, all share the same feeling of missing the place very much and when I am decorating the pooja ghar at our home I miss our Nani so much. I believe that there was some energy in her that had bound things so beautifully that even Shri Krishnaji, Laddu Gopal, looked so cute, innocent and perfect child in front of her grace, charisma, simplicity and strength.

The way Shri Krishnaji was taken care of as a small child and the way the festival was celebrated at Nani’s home, I always found Shri Krishnaji very close to me. I remember believing and loving Shri Krishnaji and Shri Hanumanji since the time I have got consciousness. I always have respected Mata Saraswati ji the most.

We used to get papers of different colors, decorative ribbons, golden paper specially to make The Sun at the background of the mandir, some artificial flowers, and many other things. The glue was used to be green and we were warned to not to taste it even by chance, as it was said to be poisonous. Nana was used to get extra milk to make all the pooja deserts, special flowers, bouquets for decoration. Mummi, Nani, Mausis used to arrange clothes for all Bhagwanjis, and shape them with appropriate sizes; make sure that every ornament is clean and all Bhagwanjis are getting royal treatment for the big day; and every dish is perfect to taste as we were never satisfied with only one turn of any of those dishes after the full day fast. Cleaning, decorating Bhagwanjis and full arrangement of all dishes for pooja was used to cover the full evening and the night as well.

But very long before all this, we used to decorate the mandir. First, the old decoration of the mandir was used to torn off brutally by all of us. Then the mandir was cleaned thoroughly. There used to be pile of kachra then. Then the process to make paper flowers was used to start. I got to see bhaiya doing craft of making paper flowers with mausis and mummi when I was very small. Bhaiya was/is always very good in crafts, arts and that had always motivated, inspired and guided me to get me involved with all this. There were used to be 5-6 layers of different colors. Their sizes were used to decrease from the bottom most paper to the top most paper. The bottom one was always the green one, showing the leaf at the base. Then the colors changed to like red, yellow and the last one was golden one giving it the final touch. We used to make a daliya full of these paper flowers. Then, the full mandir was decorated with the colorful paper. The paper flowers were pasted at different places over the colorful paper. At the background center of the madir, The Sun was used to be designed with utmost care. When I was very small, this task was done by mausi, and then bhaiya was used to do it. I also got opportunity to make it in later years. Once everything is placed, the decoration of the outside of the mandir was used to start. Different ribbons, artificial flowers, everything had got some place or other to add to the entire beauty of the divine place.

When I was very small, Nani was used to make a display of the complete life of Shri Krishnaji with all the toys she had. It was used to be a big one. Those times, we were used to sleep before the pooja used to happen or might used to be sleepy at 12 midnight; we used to see the display in the morning. That was used to be THE first thing that we were used to see. We were always amazed to see those beautiful tiny sculptures depicting the full life. The little jhoola of Shri Krishnaji was the most interesting thing for me. I was used to imagine the life of Shri Krishnaji at Gokul and I was quite fascinated of it. In later years when Nani was not well, we used to miss this display very much. I still miss it with the core of my heart.

When everything was done for the mandir, all Bhagwanijis were carefully placed at their right places. From this time onwards, the contribution of we kids was used to be very low. Those days there were not many things on TV and 12 midnight still looked so late. Till 12th standard, we used to sleep by 10:30pm maximum, so 12 midnight was herculean task for all of us. Even if we tried very hard, we were almost on bed by 11pm. Then we were asked to get up just before 12. It was a big burden for us and by the time we reached the Madir, the pooja was used to start. Shankh, Ghante everything was announcing the arrival of the divine Shri Krishnaji. The complete pooja was used to take half an hour and that half an hour were the best moments of our life. We used to forget everything in those great sounds. Then we had prasad of pooja and the dinner after that. We all loved panjiri as we could fume it on others by just saying phoophaa. The next day always seemed so refreshing after this biggest festival.

In sometime we are again going to celebrate the same function at our home, but without those people, without that mandir, without those decorating sessions, without the completeness of everything of that time, I feel I have missed so much by living 10 more years of my life.

Happy Janmashtmi to all!!!

I miss our Nani so much!!!

P.S. I wanted to write what I feel about Shri Krishnaji but that chapter would have been incomplete, had I not described the origin of everything that I feel about Shri Krishnaji today.