Eyes to My Soul - Part V

Think...think...think hard you fool, I told myself as she kept staring at me questioningly. I was standing at the door of a swanky restaurant, fixed under the skeptic looks of a gorgeous girl and the incessant curious glances of the manager and his staff. I still hadn't made up my mind on what to say, and was starting to sweat when the manager came up from behind and
smilingly asked us to sit down and 'make ourselves comfortable', the last part being directed at me (I'm sure he was thoroughly enjoying this spectacle). She led me to a table in the nearest corner of the room and we settled down. I mumbled an incoherent greeting, something that should've sounded like a 'hi' but didn't, and managed a wry smile. She instantly broke into an amused giggle. So she had noticed my discomfort too. Here I was, feeling dehydrated in her presence, and she just sat there laughing at my plight. So very characteristic of her.

But I could take it no more. Frowning, I demanded to know what was so funny. But she just reached across the table, placed her hand over mine, and asked how I had been. And smiled. Just like that. No questions about my prolonged absence, no visible anger, no complaints. I was taken aback for a moment. This wasn't part of the plan. She was supposed to be surprised on seeing me, and bombard me with a thousand questions and rebukes over my sudden disappearance. I had had this conversation over and over in my head a thousand times before coming to see her. She wasn't meant to smile like that. Like she knew everything. But it was just like her to make all my plans go for a complete toss. I was at a loss of words again. She asked me, "How've you been? Life's been treating you pretty well, it seems" while surveying my appearance from head to toe. A hint of amusement was evident on her face. And I involuntarily blushed. And it suddenly felt like old times - the free flow of conversation, the way she could read my mind and the way she always knew how to make me uncomfortable even in my designer shoes - I could see everything falling back into place. And I resigned myself to the moment.

I told her I had been good and that life had been fair to me so far. I told her about my time abroad (only the good parts) and further plans for my career. It was surprising how I'd come with a plan to play all mysterious and hard to get this time round - to reveal less, to mystify her with my stories and to leave her impressed and wanting to rekindle what we'd had earlier. I'd made a lot of effort in these two years to change myself completely and to be the kind of guy I knew she would love. A dash of mystery and style was all I needed to grab her attention now. But look where I finally find myself - telling her all I'd done over the past two years, about my family, friends I'd made and places I'd been to. More surprisingly, she kept prodding me to tell her more and more while she herself revealed very little. All I could get out of her was that she'd been globetrotting quite frequently and writing quite a lot, and was currently in talks with a publisher about a book she had been writing for over a year now. She never once asked me what had happened years ago, when I'd abruptly and completely disappeared from her life. I actually felt stupid reminiscing about it now. I'd blocked her on all social networks, deleted her number and decided never to contact her ever again. Why? Because she'd liked another guy. Because she hadn't instinctively understood my feelings for her and had let her heart be ruled by another. How noble of me, wasn't it? Realization hurts. I was mentally rebuking myself now. And to add to the guilt, she didn't appear to be angry with me at all.

She went over to her friends and excused herself for the afternoon. We ordered food and some wine. I'd quietly kept the lily on the table and slipped on the little gift-wrapped watch into my pocket. I wanted to leave them as a surprise for the end, since she'd spoiled more than half of it already. She let the flower be where it was, pretending she hadn't noticed instead of asking if it was for her, like she would have earlier. Something in her demeanor told me she knew more than she showed. Did she know why I had come, or what I had in mind? Was she giving me time to work towards it, to surprise her? Was she being supportive??

Or was she avoiding it altogether? Was she trying to dissuade me from doing what I was planning to do? Conflicting thoughts kept muddling my head while she ate and I watched her from the corner of my eye. The silence between us felt odd and strangely familiar. Like the last time we'd met. But no, oh no, I didn't want to think about it at that moment. I was here with an agenda, and I had to go forth with it without fail. This was my only chance. So, summoning some courage, I started talking again. Random topic, which I slowly and as casually as I could, steered towards the past. And then I asked her THE question - what had happened with that guy she'd liked? I was regretting it the moment I opened my mouth. But I needed to know. She did not seem to be offended or uncomfortable about the subject, I noted with relief. She looked up from her food and simply said it didn't work out. And she gave a smile which I knew wasn't really what it was meant to look like. She seemed distant today. She wasn't her chirpy, talkative self. She wasn't cracking any jokes or really laughing at anything I said. She just had a plain smile pasted onto her lips. Every move, every word, every expression of her face seemed too subtle for herself. It was like she thought a lot before acting or talking now. And yet, I knew her enough to know she couldn't fake anything, least of all calculate her moves. It seemed as though this was part of her now. Like she had grown up a lot in these few years. I realized with some pain that it wasn't only one of us who had changed. We both had. I sure knew why I had. But what had happened with her as to subdue her so much? Probably the break-up had been bad. But then it was never like her to be so badly affected by anything. What could possibly have transpired in my absence? Whatever it was, I didn't have the courage to ask.

We had finished our meal by then. She called for the cheque while I racked my brains, wondering when and how to breach the subject. The cheque arrived and I grabbed it before she could lay her hands upon it. She insisted a little too much to pay, but how could I have let her? With that we got up and moved out. I picked up the lily behind her and followed her into the foyer, where she smiled at the manager as he thanked her while giving me a funny look. Once outside I looked about, searching for her car. As if on cue, she explained that she had arrived with the others in a friend's car. Thanking my stars, I gestured for her to come with me. She hesitated, but slowly obliged. My confidence had started to soar again and I wanted to go for the kill before the courage waned. She was behaving particularly tamed presently, but I was too chuffed to give much thought to it. We navigated through the crowded, perpetually under-construction roads and corridors of CP to finally reach the parking lot where my Cruze was parked. She looked somewhat admiringly at the car, though said nothing. I asked her to step inside while opening the door for her. She rolled her eyes at me, clearly surprised at my supposedly new-found chivalry. Once inside, she asked me to drop her off at the nearest metro station entrance so she could go home. I offered to drive her home. But she did not budge. I could feel the courage trickling out of me.

I sat there in the driver seat, looking straight ahead, for a moment oblivious to my surroundings, even to her. I wanted to give her the lily and the present. I wanted to ask her out on a date, yes, that's what I had come down to accomplish today. I was confident she won't be able to turn me down this time. It had seemed completely out of the question earlier. Now I knew not how to even make her stay for two more minutes. My mind was racing but nothing seemed to be coming to it. She suddenly gave me a little nudge and asked what I was waiting for. Sigh. I started to slowly drive out of the lot, deliberately turning my face towards the window, pretending to back the car carefully, so that she couldn't see the anxiety and unrest writ large on my face. Before I realized, we were standing right in front of the Metro entrance. She gathered her stuff, thanked me for the meal and the surprise turn-up and in a swift movement, stepped out without so much as a second glance at me.

So this was it. All those months of maniacal perseverance, all my faith, all the hopes I'd pinned on this one meeting - dashed. Crushed to pulp under her high heels. I could not assimilate what had just happened. We met, I surprised her with my sudden reappearance, we had a great meal, we chatted nearly like old times, and I drove her here - and then she just got up and left. Something was grossly wrong here. I did get a chance to tell her why I had come back. I couldn't manage to voice my true feelings to her - I just failed at it, again. I felt a familiar stab of pain tearing through my heart. When I'd wished we could go back into time to those old days, I hadn't fathomed every single thing would be the same. I'd hoped, rather known, that this time would be different. But it just wasn't anymore. She'd left - yet again.

I thought I'd been sitting there alone for an eternity when there was a gentle tap on my window. I rolled it down and sat looking at her in confusion - was it indeed her or was I imagining again, like I did ever so often? She smiled. Playfully. I gaped at her with an open mouth. She said she'd left something behind. I looked about the car in confusion, but found nothing belonging to her. I glanced back at her with a blank expression to see her grinning. She pointed at the lily lying on the back seat and asked if I was keeping it for another girl I was going to meet afterwards. I picked up the lily and looking at it, suddenly seemed to wake up from a dream. She took it gleefully from me and then began making expressive, overt gestures towards my trousers. I didn't seem to get it at first. She certainly wasn't a nympho to be suggesting what I was thinking. She rolled her eyes. I felt around and then found what she meant - the present! The watch I'd brought for her!! And to think I'd forgotten about it in my gloom. She grinned and said, "How could you possibly think I wouldn't notice? Nothing ever escapes my eye!" and winked. She literally winked at me. And then, just as suddenly as she had appeared, she skipped away to the station entrance again. But just before entering, as I looked on in amazement, she turned back and gave me the most glorious smile I'd seen in an eternity. The sun seemed to shine brighter as she smiled. And then she was gone.

So this wasn't the end after all. I knew in my heart now that it wasn't. It was but a start. A start to something I couldn't, till a while ago, have fathomed would happen. But I knew that smile only too well - it was gonna happen now. And I just sat there smiling to myself...like I hadn't in years.

For the rest of the series, visit here.

Merry Christmas!

It's that time of the year again when homes, malls and marketplaces are decorated in red, white and green. When carols are sung and gifts are exchanged. When cakes, gingerbread men and yummy goodies are enjoyed. When everyone is in high spirits and thankful for all they have. Or at least that's how MY vision of an ideal Christmas looks. And for me it's either everything or nothing.


I've always been a stickler for Christmas and the New Year. They signify true festivity to me - happiness, joy, camaraderie and love - even more than most Hindu festivals. Back in those childhood days, Christmas was always about decorating that little Christmas tree Papa got us with little bells and stars, putting a sock or bag beside our pillows and waiting till we could keep our eyes open to catch our parents sneaking in. Yes, I always knew it was them, and not Santa Claus, who loaded our socks with goodies every year. But it was fun pretending for a while that we didn't know. And then we would wake up on Christmas morning and thank our Santa parents for all those amazing goodies and they would just laugh. My sister had this unique fun fetish of dressing up in red, putting up a fake beard and all the works and roam about the house playing Santa. She even distributed candies to all of us!

Most of my childhood years were spent in an Indian Navy school, and the Christmas celebrations there were pretty great. We would decorate our entire class with little baubles from the school stationery store and take part in the Christmas special performances. I was a regular in the Carol singing choir group, and that has been my favorite part of the festival ever since - Carols. Two of them have stuck in my heart for years, and it's time I shared them here. *nostalgic*





At a time when the city, and consequently the entire nation, is in strife over a very recent issue that is threatening to dissolve the public's faith in the system (whatever remains of it) and is sure to bring down the spineless government, I hope the festive spirit brings some respite and calm to all those ravaged hearts. I wish you all a merry Christmas and a very happy and prosperous New Year 2013 (in early anticipation). Stay blessed, and always keep that smile on. \(^_^)/


P.S. And with the dawn of the 25th of December, my blog also crossed the 25,000-hits mark. A big shout out to all my amazing readers for their constant support and for bearing with my nonsensical jibber jabber for almost three years. You all make this blog whatever it is. Thank you!

Hair - how to straighten you up?

Ho ho ho! It's Christmas eve, and I come bearing wishes for a very merry Christmas for all, as also with a chronicle of hair woes to share.

I've always had wavy hair. Not straight, not even curly, but hanging right there in the middle - wavy. And with a mind of their own too! You see, it is precisely at those times when I am at home doing nothing, not stepping out of the house for days, when they decide to behave like the most obedient little kid on earth. But when I have to go out somewhere and look my sexy best, they would suddenly go on a me-no-behave spree and make me look like an alien. Not that I'm really complaining (and that's a white lie).

The texture's pretty good, silky so to say, with those brown highlights that I just adore. But I wish they behaved more often, so I did not have to resort to putting them through torture so often.

What kind of torture, were you wondering? Now you'd surely have to be a guy to wonder that. Because we girls know what all it takes to get that perfect mop of beautifully straight and shiny hair that you guys so covet. It isn't all that easy, you see. It takes patience, time and treating your hair with a lot of care (and sometimes brutality) to make them look great.

I have noticed a sort of trend. The girls who have curly hair usually want it to be straight, while those blessed by the Almighty with that perfectly straight mane (*jealous*), wish for it to have been curly. And so we do everything in our power to make our hair what it is not. Take for example the former case, wherein I happen to lie. We curly/wavy haired damsels crave for straight hair (it definitely looks sexier!), so we keep looking for healthier, easier ways to achieve it.

The women of our mothers' and their mothers' time were nothing if not highly illustrious. If we have technology, they had their customized gharelu nuskhe (home remedies) for every problem under the sun. They even knew how to make your hair look just the way you want, without even damaging it! So for naturally soft and straight hair, my mother told me to apply yogurt or milk to my hair and rinse once it's fully dry. I tried a few times, and it really worked for me. But then it takes too much of an effort and time and it leaves your head utterly cooled, which is why it's a strict no-no for winters.

Then I had this good friend in school who used to have immensely beautiful, silky, soft brown hair. I would always drool over it. And then I finally asked her about it one day and out came the secret - she used henna on her hair. Quite regularly too, with eggs and other herbs thrown in. No wonder her hair always reeked of mehndi and other reeky stuff. Sigh, I could never bring myself to following her formula though, try as I might have to convince myself to. But I just cannot have my hair smell of henna - it's nauseating.

Another option one of my friends suggested was to starch my hair. Jeez! I was thankfully never so big on straight hair as to go to such a length - I've heard it is one of the wildest things you can do to your hair, making it look like Einstein's for a while and eventually fall out. Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow!

I also hear people say that you can straighten your hair using hair gel. Now, how on earth can someone straighten even moderately long hair using gel? I always thought gel was for short, spiky hair. Turns out, it is too. Someone even went as far as to suggest going out with wet hair, as it looks relatively straighter while you're freshly out of the shower. On being asked what to do when it starts drying up, she said, "Why, just find the nearest restroom and dampen it again!" Alas, jitne muh utni baatein. But I never really found the perfectly natural straight hair solution. Nothing worked for me for long. So I've ultimately had to resort to a straightening rod to do the job occasionally when I want my hair to look their best. 'coz here's how my real hair looks:

And here's how it manages to look after I've had my way with it:

Now that's the thing I'm talking about. Straight hair changes the way you look. If only it were simpler. But with proper care and healthy upkeep of hair, an occasional heat treatment doesn't do much harm, at least to my hair. So as I said before, I'm not complaining - I've found my way around hair problems. :D

However, I have seen a great number of girls going in for hair straightening (or rebonding) treatments for the perfect solution. Their hair just ends up looking like a broomstick, and feeling the same too. Those pointed, jagged edges and that damaged frizzy look just doesn't look hot - it looks garish after a time. It is however a more optimal solution if instead of straightening, one goes for a hair smoothening treatment - the procedure duration and process employed are much the same, but with much softer, natural looking straight hair in the end. And with good after-treatment care who says it is difficult to maintain straight hair? Use the right haircare products (Sunsilk for instance) and strike a balance with natural home remedies. And bask in the pleasure of beautiful and stylish hair, today and forever.

This post is a part of The Sunsilk Hair Experiment on IndiBlogger.

The Groupon Experience

What is life if not lived. And what do we do to live life like there's no tomorrow? We party!

Now that was a slightly overt interjection. 'cos I am not exactly a party animal of sorts. But I do go event hopping quite often, and most of the times I am not able to write about all the places I've visited and the dos I've attended. But some events, no matter how long it has been since they passed, deserve more than just a mention. I was invited to one such fun event at The Oberoi, New Delhi last month (on the 22nd of November to be precise) by the GROUPON team.

Now what the heck is Groupon?

I heard you wonder that out aloud. Well, for starters, it's a company that has recently made its mark on the Indian online shopping and deals scene.

What do they do?
They provide crazy deals and heavy discounts on products and services, including shopping, travel, medical and beauty services among many others.

So what is all this hullabaloo all about?
Oh you don't know? Tch tch. Groupon was named the 'fastest growing company ever' in 2010 by Forbes magazine, and was put on the same pedestal as Zuckerberg's Facebook. Now that's something big! (I'm sure I have your full attention now.)

But that was then. Now they're bigger, even better and in INDIA!

About the event I was talking of - the GROUPON Carnival - was a promotional event with a twist. There was this big hall with canopied stalls lining all its walls. And the stalls were printed and decked up on the front to reflect exactly how a particular deal would appear on the website, what with those sidebars and the same green theme and a clock ticking (see below). Sweet!

And that wasn't even the beginning of fun part. I was then handed a tiny booklet of 100 rupee coupons, adding upto 2500 rupees in all. And what was I expected to do for the next 3 hours? Use that fake money to avail of all the deals spread around the room till either I dropped, or the money ended, which would never have happened as I was told I would be given more to spend if I exhausted my pot of money. I was literally dazed for a good five minutes, figuring it all out and hardly believing my fortune.

The stalls had the choicest of deals one could ever find under one roof. Let's see - a corner shop selling indoor golf sets, a nail art kiosk, a sushi kitchen, a tarot card reader's stall, a stall offering wine tasting and appreciation sessions, another one holding cocktail/mocktail mixing lessons, a zen foot massage parlor, a fish spa stall and another couple of them offering crazy photo sessions using crazier props and wacky head dresses. It was a hell of a time I had through the course of the evening. Look on!

My nails have been the topic of discussion everywhere ever since then. Sigh.

A cocktail mixing session on in full swing. How I wish I'd had time to go for this!

Mad photo sessions, much?

The chef prepared vegetarian Sushi in front of these very eyes. Having had it for the first time, I found it...ummm...weird. But I did learn how to handle chopsticks!

Funny, all the men headed towards this particular stall while women stayed away.

And THAT was the most enjoyable part of it all - WINE TASTING. Learnt a lot about white and red wine, how to consume and appreciate them and even tasted a few!

I bought an indoor mini golf set for my father (with his birthday fortunately just round the corner), got my nails painted beautifully and went for some of the other fun stuff on offer too. The event had a very tiny invitee list (that included me!) with most of the food and drinks being hogged away by the Groupon personnel themselves :P But their team was a true bundle of energy and humor, helping people around, chatting away and making it a fun evening. I missed out on a scrumptious dinner, having had to leave early, but did manage to stay on till the end of a sizable but interesting presentation given by the lively young CEO of Groupon India, Ankur Warikoo.

I checked out the website (after the event, I must admit) and the deals are really something worth availing of. And it's mighty different from the rest of the coupon/deal websites such as Khojguru. Which other site offers you a helicopter ride or a hot air balloon safari above the city? Do check out Groupon.

Book Review: Delhi 101 - A witty guide to the city I love.

There are a hundred and one travel books on the stands that will tell you a hundred and one things to do while you're in Delhi. Now I haven't seen all of Delhi or read many such books, but just enough to be able to serve as a pretty good city guide myself. And I keep traveling around, poking my nose into unseen areas and reading more and more about the city I love - the one place in the world that I can call home.

Now if you're into the detailed history of everything that makes Delhi unique and intriguing, from its ancient structures to the mysteries contained in its shady, crowded alleyways, William Dalrymple's your man. But if you're looking for a quick guide to some fun and useful things to do in and around the city while on a visit, Delhi 101 by Ajay Jain is the book to bury your nose into.


I laid my hands upon this book some time ago, and having already met the author a couple of times at social dos, I was more than eager to give it a thorough read. And boy, it took me more time than a novel twice its size would usually take. I happily lapped up every word, every anecdote, every detail and the story behind every picture the author's been generous enough to throw in on every page of the book. Without being partial to the author or doing him any favor whatsoever in saying so, the book was indeed a delight to read.

For without trying too hard, Delhi 101 manages to amaze you with ingenious ideas on how to spend some enjoyable time in the ever-on-the-move, crowded city that our Delhi is. To a traveler it serves as a basic guide to everything that usually defines a city - from the most ancient of its forts, baolis (public baths), mosques and structures to the swankiest and cheapest of markets, most popular food joints and various entertainment options. But that isn't all, because then it takes another step forward. To prove its uniqueness, this book also gives you a good glimpse into the 'real' Delhi. It takes you through the bylanes of Old Delhi inhabited by ear-cleaners, prostitutes, pehelwaan-turned-medical practitioners, decades old dilapidated-yet-running cinema halls and gives eye witness accounts of events and sights that make Delhi come alive, like the reverberating weekly Qawwaali nights held in Chandni Chowk, hitherto unknown even to the seasoned Delhiite. I have a strong feeling the author has a thing for Old Delhi, because a major part of the book hovers in and around that area. But no doubt, that's where the true culture and old world charm of Delhi lies, so no qualms.

And then there's a surprise part hidden in the package - the author's sense of humor. He has interspersed drab details with such interesting anecdotes and one-liners that the otherwise boring parts also seem to come to life. Given that it is an illustrated guide, the pictures have a language of their own and lend a great appeal to the text. See for yourself!

Well, there, you got a glimpse of the kind of stuff the author has put into those 150 pages. Ajay Jain is a well known traveler whose favorite activity is to hit the road with an SUV full of necessities and travel the length and breadth of India, even overseas wherever possible. He has written a number of travel books and other titles in addition to maintaining a travel blog and a one-of-its-kind travel cafe called Kunzum Travel Cafe in Hauz Khas Village, about which I've written earlier.

This book, in the author's own words, is an incomplete guide to Delhi. Because the city is so varied in its essence and culture, that to describe everything in one finite volume is practically impossible. It however gives you a more or less accurate low down on the best places to buy stuff or to satiate your gastronomical urges in the city, along with insider tips wherever necessary, making it a helpful aid for a foreigner stepping out of doors to explore Delhi in all its true colors. In any case, an average traveler can hardly complete more than half the tasks suggested in the book in one, sometimes even two visits here. So for a first or a second timer in Delhi, Delhi 101 should definitely be a fun travel partner. At the same time it is a must read for every Delhiite, for what's the point of traveling far and wide if you don't know what lies within your own city?

On the downside however, the prices, timings and other trivial facts and figures mentioned in the book could well do with a revising in subsequent editions, as it must've been written years back and the figures have drastically changed since long. I cannot say any more for the risk of revealing more than I should. I shall thus conclude the review by giving the book a good 4 stars out of 5. Why don't you go out and buy a copy for yourself, and indulge in the sheer pleasure of surfing though the pages of Delhi's colorful past and present?

Don't give up on Life. Not yet.

It isn't very frequently that one comes across a useful link or thought on one of the various pages one has liked on Facebook. It's mostly rage comic strips (which are really funny, by the way), crappy jokes, political debates, or appeals to 'like' another equally crappy page or to share silly content. You know the drill, because admit it, you do it too. Every single day.

But sometimes epiphanies happen. So, right around the time when I was having a real hard time putting up with depressing and pessimistic people all around me, a link sprang up on my timeline today that made me want to share it with one and all. You see, I've been wanting to write about something that I really feel strongly about but haven't been able to make the time. And this certain article I am sharing is a small embodiment of what I want to tell people.

28 Signs You’re Wasting Your Youth

People today are literally wasting their lives doing nothing but fret and over think. I agree, thinking before you leap is the right safer strategy to go about taking most decisions in life. But over-thinking, drawing out pessimistic scenarios in your head and giving up on hope just because luck did not favor you earlier in life and you fear it never will, isn't exactly how one is supposed to be leading her/his life at a young age. Heck, it isn't how one is supposed to live her/his life EVER. The day you start over thinking and giving up on things is the day you become old and useless. Take it from me, you won't achieve half of what your mettle is worth, just because you fear the result.

People talk about theists and about atheists. So many friends of mine are sworn atheists. They might not scoff at the Almighty, but they do not believe in Him either. So what do they believe in, I ask. Themselves and their hard work, they say. And yet, when they do not achieve what they work so hard for, they blame it on luck. I am not a prophet, nowhere even close, and I do not know whether luck/destiny/fate exists and how one defines it, but I believe in that higher power which determines what one gets in life and when the time is right for that. My belief definitely does not guarantee His existence, neither shall I claim it does. But this belief keeps me going. This one single belief keeps me happy inside, satisfied that the reins of my life are in better hands and that all I'm supposed to do is to go with the flow, live my life in the best way I can with what I have right now, and to always believe that everything that happens or comes to me is for the good. And my belief has never failed me. Every time I've been through a very trying time, I've emerged out knowing that I'll be fine. And in hindsight, it's always given me loads of valuable lessons and experiences I cherish. And I've always got more in life than I've expected to get. Maybe because I deserved every bit, or maybe because I was 'lucky'.

But the fact that I claim to get most of what I wish for in life doesn't mean I don't have hardships. My life has more troubles and insecurities than most people my age can't handle. They succumb. Time and again I have been on the verge of doing that too. And that's when my belief sustained me, kept me afloat, gave me hope that times will change. And they did. They always change. For everyone, irrespective of how 'unlucky' they've been in the past or how privileged or unprivileged they are. It's the perspective that distinguishes between the ones who're living a life and the ones who are just breathing. It's what you choose to focus on that determines how you look at your life. If you focus on past failures and misfortunes and make them the basis for your present decisions and opinions, the future has no reason to look up and shine upon you. If you are thankful instead for all the times you've had success, for all those big and small joys you've cherished and for the very fact that you're alive, literate and able to access the technology that lets you read these words, I'd say you're better off than a lot of your fellow human beings. Isn't that reason enough to be happy?

Lack of a job, relationship problems, insecurities about not being as successful as you'd wish to be or of not living up to people's expectations - these aren't as big concerns as they're made out to be by the youth today. For all I know, five or maybe ten years down the line you'll probably have a job befitting your capabilities, a pay packet enough to at least sustain you, a better half to lead your life with or else the realisation that you're better off without one, and loads of maturity and experience. I say 'probably' here, not 'definitely'. Because there are always those few who fail to make use of whatever talent they have, remain unsettled or get dejected with life only to kill themselves or lead a loser's life with nothing but alcohol or drugs for company and consolation. But whoever is reading this is sure to scoff at this probability and claim that this can never happen to them. Now that's what I'm talking about. That's confidence in yourself. Where's it gone? Why hide it away inside? Have some faith - in your own capabilities, in fate or luck or destiny (whatever!). Know that no matter what, things always make out a way of settling down for the good. You will ultimately have all you want, or maybe little less, but who cares, as long as you know how to be HAPPY? Isn't that what we're all working towards in life - happiness and contentment? So if you're happy with what you get, in the hope of being able to do better in the future, where's any reason for dejection and hopelessness in this world? All it takes is a bit of hope. The tiny bit of hope that comes with a droplet of water falling from the skies can bring a smile to an emaciated farmer's lips, no matter whether rains follow or not. Why then are we so scared of hope? Why are we so afraid of failing that we do not let hope take birth inside us?

Why can't we just go out there and do what it takes to achieve what we so desire, while also knowing that if success does not come in one attempt, there's always another attempt at it. Maybe even ten, but nothing is the end of the road. If something you wished for did not happen to you, it means something else is out there waiting for you to reach out for it. It isn't necessary that you will always be successful in the end. But where's the harm in hoping you are? If not, learn from the experience and move on to the next goal. Do not dwell on anything longer than it deserves. Do not give up on life just because some things aren't working out right. It isn't time yet. There are still miles to go before you sleep. Might as well make use of them to do something better than mope and curse!

Silence

The day dawned foggy and damp. The sky was overcast with dark clouds. But it hadn't started raining yet. Divya's six year old daughter had been pestering her mother since the previous afternoon to take her to the zoo. Divya was hesitant, as the zoo was a good 10 kilometers out of town and the weather conditions hadn't been great over the past couple of days. Yet little Ananya kept pleading and using her trademark lost kitten expression to full effect until Divya had no other option but to relent.


They packed up for a full day's excursion and headed out in their little hatchback at half past eleven. Divya called up to inform her dad before leaving. She felt somewhat uneasy, as her dad usually accompanied them on such trips ever since her husband had walked out on her three years ago. Anu had been all of three and didn't remember a lot. Divya didn't miss him much. Neither did she hate him. She really didn't think about him anymore. But Anu had been strongly attached to him. Her beloved grandfather now filled in for the void her father had left behind. But today he had gone over to visit his other daughter and couldn't accompany them. She was regretting her decision almost as soon as she'd made it.

The roads were full of potholes and slush. Divya was a good driver, but a relative newbie on the city's roads. They'd shifted to this place two years ago and had bought the car only a few months before. She was still getting used to the roads and landmarks as she didn't drive very often. Most often her dad drove them on such long journeys. She felt guilty for availing of his services so often and depending upon him for so many things, but was much relieved because of his presence. She wondered what she would have done, and more importantly, how she'd have managed Ananya if not for his support.

Her thoughts kept wandering whilst she drove. She had to brush them away with a lot of effort to be able to concentrate better on the road as well as on Anu. Ananya was a chirpy child. She was ever inquisitive, wanting to know everything that she found even slightly intriguing or unknown. She was a born singer too, one trait she'd inherited from her father that Divya really loved. She had enrolled her for music lessons at a prestigious institution and Anu was their star performer, all at the tender age of 6. Divya smiled at her daughter as she sat in her seat making patterns on the foggy window and blabbering, to no one in particular, about a classmate who ate mud and didn't clean her fingernails.

It was right then that it happened. Divya, too lost in her thoughts and in glancing dreamily at Anu, did not realize the car was moving towards a thin stretch of road with a huge banana-loaded truck approaching them from the other side. By the time she came to her senses, there was a very short distance left between the truck and the car. She tried to swerve to the left, but the road was slippery and the car skidded. Divya lost control of the wheel as the car was whirled head-first into a pair of sturdy neem trees growing together on the roadside. She'd always loved this particular stretch of road, as it was lined with neem and mango trees on both sides and had a thick foliage extending out to cover half of the road from above. She could never have imagined a scenario where her own car collided with them. The truck driver, as they normally do, fled the scene for fear of being convicted in the case.

At about 5 in the evening, Divya's dad along with a team of policemen found the half-battered car on the side of the road with the steering wheel rammed into his daughter's stomach and her face smeared with blood. Anu lay with her head on the dashboard, appearing mostly unharmed, with a deflated airbag loose on her lap. Divya was declared dead on the spot. Anu was given first aid and revived. She had a minor head injury and a cut on the left arm but was badly shaken. Despite many efforts by her grandpa and the officers, she wouldn't utter a word. The officers said she was in trauma and needed to be taken to the hospital right away. Divya's body was also taken away and another team of experts was called to carry out investigatory activities at the accident site.

Anu received medical treatment at the best hospital in the city. Her grandparents never left her side, especially her grandpa, who wouldn't let her out of his sight even for a moment. Aunts and uncles poured in and condoled over the loss. She recovered from the physical trauma in a couple of weeks but would not talk, so she was made to undergo psychiatric treatment for a month, in a hope that she would slowly recover from her mental trauma from the accident and her mother's death. With time she resumed all her routine activities and was taken off 24x7 supervision and medicines and moved into her grandparents' house. But she wouldn't speak. Not a word had escaped her lips ever since she was found unconscious at the crash site. She didn't cry or mope. She went about the house, sat with her grandpa as he read the morning paper, watched cartoons, drew, painted, sometimes played with her toys, but never talked. She wouldn't answer any questions except those that required her to fetch something or do a chore or that could be answered with a nod of the head. She did smile occasionally but seldom laughed. Worst of all, she didn't sing. Some doctors said she had lost her voice in the aftermath of the accident. Or the will to make use of it, some others mused.

With her voice gone, the whole house lies engulfed in silence and gloom now. Her grandparents do not know what to do. The untimely loss of their most beloved daughter had already aged them prematurely. They could not bear to see their granddaughter mourn in silence. They tried their best to make her come around. But with time, they've realized that her silence was what helped her survive the extreme grief of losing her mother. They've given in to the earnest hope that her silence will help her cope with the reality. Silence is a great healer. They hope it will heal her wounds too.


(This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. It got featured as one of the commendable entries here.)