Monsoon Affair (6)

Monsoon Affair (6)

Varun eyes grow moist, tears in the rain, obfuscated by the cloudy sky, lost in the realm of human mass in the city. He was fighting a raging battle with himself, forcefully resisting the love virus and feeling of being carried away by Huma. It was emasculating him. 
"I tried to resist everything but like fever it struck my soul and heart. It can't be happening to me. Why, I am falling for her and yearn to be close to her when we are not together? I wonder whether it's just a passing phase. It just cannot be a phase! I get hyper on hearing her name, longing for her presence, 24/7."
He tossed on the bed, unable to sleep throughout the rainy night, speaking to himself. "Huma! Huma! Destiny plays a role in our lives. Perhaps, there is a reason for us to meet and make love. Now, it can't get more paradoxical. I was hitting on her and we indulged in intimacy minus this love crap and now what's happening. Life is strange.  I should be happy, prancing around and doing what..getting sunk in this beautiful feeling called love. Yet! it's weird and growing into an obsession, wanting to posses her every single moment. I don't wanna possess but love her."
Varun poured a peg of the old monk rum mixed with water, sipping a taste and lit a cigarette, trying to avoid the thoughts of Huma infiltrating into his soul

Huma was sitting at Barista, thinking, 'Should I or should I not tell him everything?' confused whether she needs to put things straight with Varun. She still has time since Varun is stuck in the Mumbai traffic and will only be able to reach in another hour. She lit a cigarette pondering whether to give it a chance but would surely tell him not to build high hopes for their future together.
Finally, she decided that let things go with the flow and will behave in a normal manner, no warning or running away from things. Let the passionate sex take over their lives and may be. it would be an antidote to make the passion of lust win over love.
'Love', Huma sniggered at how people live in a world of illusion, where couples run away, fight with parents and end up doing things that is not worth it. She wondered, how can one lose their individuality for something not worth like love, ready to forsake their dreams? Somebody please explain to me!'
Varun walked into the crowded cafe, sweating profusely and his face brightened when he saw Huma, bent down to kiss on her forehead. "Baby," 
"What's up", she asked.
"The crazy traffic, I tell you."
Their fingers were tweaked into each other, munching on fresh fries. Huma caressed Varun's finger, "Game for sex tonight?
"Your place or my place. It gonna be torrid," he teased.
She playfully smiled, "Of course mine, babe. It gonna be on my conditions."
They laughed. She wanted the ghost love to disappear from his mind and wanted to provoke lust, planning to initiate passionate sex and explore zones where none of them have gone.
Varun suddenly asked, "Acha! Tell me something about your parents and siblings?"
Huma was taken aback and wondered how he asked this question all of a sudden. She avoided his gaze and said, "Why do you ask, yaa? Told you na, my parents are out of India. What difference does it make?
She feared that this must raise some suspicion in his mind on the deep dark secret and that the mystery might unravel. There is something that Huma is hiding from him and doesn't want to hurt the feeling of her lover boy. She expressed relief that the whole thing escaped his mind and didn't press on her.


Happy Birthday Dad! Priceless moments of love stay forever

Today is Dad's birthday. He would have turned 73! What a fun-loving, jolly and eccentric character Dad was. It feels like he never left the world on June 19, 2007.  I can still remember his laugh, anger ready to pounce on everyone who criticizes his only son. We had a truce, which Mom would never be oblivious to and he taught me the essence of love, never shying from showing his affection on me.
I remember how as a small child, I would accompany him on his way to work, till the shop near by. Despite our limited means, he knew what I wanted, expensive biscuits, ice cream and choco and would tell the shopkeeper, 'He's my only son, give him whatever he wants and the bill would be settled. He has always been an emotional person and doted on me, possessive in a way, owing to the fact that his mother died when he was two years old. I guess, that's what makes people emotional wrecks in a way.
Dad would always surprise me with gifts, favorite mags and what's not, got my first VCR as X-Mas gift when I went to stay at my cousin's place. Mom was the strict one but Dad could never say no to me, often at the receiving end of the former when he would retort, "Let it be. I have only my son. He means the world to me." At that time, perhaps I took things for granted and as part of growing up, we had spats that became ugly, at times and I am guilty of that. It was just the rebel and immature me, who was just plain stupid. But, one think, I am proud is that Dad always supported and stood with me, no matter what, fighting for justice and the belief in his ideals, was the things that mattered most. He was cheated of his property by his own half-blood brothers, my grandfather married twice, for that matter. Dad made my life when he sent me to study not once but twice..
The time I decided to go and study in Pune and Mumbai, is something that pained Dad a lot because he couldn't bear that I'll stay faraway from him. Yet, he believed in me and my dreams, phoning me almost every week, telling me to be strong and that I'll make him proud one day. I knew that deep inside, he was feeling emotional and sad but never showed the feeling so as not to make me weak. He worked till his last breath to ensure that he is able to afford my fees and not once, when I asked extra money, he refused and the money was wired as soon as it could be arranged.
I still remember the Saturday, way back in June 2007 when I was in the hostel at Churchgate in Mumbai when I got a call on the landline. I was out to the mess for coffee when the security informed that there were frantic calls. I lost my handset at that time and my cousin sister called from UK, 'You are not interested in coming home to meet your Dad....don't worry we'll make arrangement so that you can come home for few days." I sensed something was wrong and my first thought went to Dad, Has something happened, I was pretty sure by now. It was confirmed by few phone calls and when I asked, they told me that he was indeed ill but shall be fine. I pressed on them and called Mom who was crying on phone, telling that I must come back in one day, no matter what. Mom said, "Do whatever you can."
How I came back home, is another story that I shall tell in another post. I remember reaching home and after having breakfast, we headed straight to the hospital. Dad sunk in the coma and as I walked past the hospital bed, I couldn't recognize Dad. That moment, I knew that my father won't be here for long and decided that I have to prepare myself for that drastic change in life. He stayed at the hospital for several days and I visited him, speaking to him but slowly, he was cutting all contacts despite the fact that he regained consciousness. 
At some point, hope rekindled and told Mom that he is on his way to be fine by now. He was discharged on a Monday and uncle came to pick him at the hospital. 
As the car stopped in front of the house, Dad was able to walk till the bed, though we held his hands.  He slept on my bed that night while I slept on the comfort of the sofa. The next morning, Mom woke me up, telling that we need to give him his breakfast.
As I was having tea with mom, she said that  a petite and fair lady appeared into her dreams, standing on a specific area in the hall and smiled to her saying, Don't worry, he is perfectly fine now.' My first reaction was that, 'It must be Dadi-Ma.' I have never seen her. As I looked back, the dream re-affirmed my belief in the philosophy and greater power present in our lives.
That day, Dad refused the breakfast and medicine pill that both me and Mom were struggling to put in his mouth. As time went by in the morning, his body grew heavy and at some point, we tried to make him sit on the chair but we were struggling. Mom started crying and I consoled her saying everything would be fine. Later, during the day, a family friend and Mom of a friend visited, it was one of the rare occasion when Dad tried to speak and muttered, to make her sit.
I was sitting on the bed next to Dad, caressing his head when I saw tears in his eyes, he tried to grab my hands tightly. It was a moment I shall never forget, calling me, 'Babu', like he was affectionately calling me. 
Minutes later, Dad twirled his eyes, his neck cracked and he closed his eyes. I went to see next door uncle who was Dad's childhood friend, who called him by his name, 'Gyan.' That was Dad's name. He opened his eyes and closed it again. There are people who are close to you and whose signals reaches your heart. I have witnessed this moment and it's the first time I saw someone dying. 
There are very few fortunate children who see their parents dying in front of them and I am glad I was by Dad's side at this moment. As I hark back, I take pride in the lessons dispensed by my father, with whom I laughed a lot and bonded over football. I believe that someone never dies as long as we keep their memories alive. Priceless memories shared with Dad which I am gonna treasure forever.

With Love to Dad


Monsoon Affair (5)

Monsoon Affair (5)

Varun speaks

Varun's head was perched towards the ceiling fan, observing its oscillating movement, eyeing the dust on the end of the device, in the wooden classroom. He was bored to death and simply not interested in the parrot words of the Economics lecture, a petite lady draped in a blue sari and hair tied in knots, explaining how India was the most industrialized nation in the world during the Angrez era and how the latter pilfered the machines, sending them to United Kingdom.
He tried to kill time, biting his nails and peered outside the window. The last thing he wanted to do was to sit through and try to make sense of what the lecturer is blurting out. It was raining outside. He thought, 'How I wish I could roam the street and catch butterflies. It's better than sitting through the hellish Economic lesson!' He flipped through his notebook and turned the last page. Started playing flame, scripting Huma and his name, scribbling the gateway of India, the former holding his hand and kissing by the water, walking inside Taj.
The hottest girl in college, Sonali, dressed in a white shirt and blue torn short, was eyeing him and smiling. He thought, 'The hottest chick in Xavier's looks equally bored.' Sonali was making advances to him, through the corner of her eyes scouting his movements, making sensual advance, biting her sensual lip, winked at him and caressing her long legs. Varun was distracted and turned his gaze away from her. Sonali made a naughty smile, a la Madhuri Dixit, aha, expression. He could have been jostled from the wooden bench.
Varun felt sleepy and was shaken by the roaring voice of Sangke Madam, 'You! Stand up, Varun!'
"Yes! Ma'am," he muttered.
The lecturer, spoke in a grave voice and expression of menace which almost shook Varun, "I have been observing you for a while. You have not been following my class at all, looking outside the window, scribbling in the empty note book and analyzing the ceiling fan.'
The whole class laughed and was stopped by a loud, "Silence, everybody. No laugh or whispering in my class."
She turned towards her favorite student, "Sonali! I am very disappointed with you. I've seen you and Varun exchanging eye candy expressions. This will not happen in my classroom. You come from a good family, your father and mother are respected judges in Mumbai and at least, don't fall sway to this useless guy."
Varun wanted to protest and tell that it was Sonali who was shamelessly flirting with him and he's is just  bored in the classroom. The angry Sangke Madam flipped her fingers and ordered, 'Ok both of you out.'
Varun felt like prancing, 'At least, I am getting chutkara from this boring lecture' but didn't realize  Sonali's worlds would give him a blow. "Ma'am! I have not done anything. It was Varun who was staring at me and winking at me every now and then, signalling me that we go outside, with his eyes expression," Sonali confidently lied.
He felt like strangling her to death and as he walked past Sonali, gave her a dreaded expression, 'You bitch. We have scores to settle.'
Sangke Madam continued her class and as Varun slowly walked out, she gave him a contemptuous look.
He forgot about Sonali's lies and advances, once he was out on the crowded street of Mumbai, enjoying the honking of cars, crowd and hawkers selling fake perfumes, belt, candies outside VT Station. He was enjoying standing outside the station, watching hordes of passengers, the rattling of trains and whistles of the station master when the image of Huma reached his soul and mind, struck him  like magic and sword pierced into his heart.
Varun knew that he was falling in love with the 'stranger' whom he met one fateful monsoon night and after two meeting, they indulged in passionate intimacy and sex. Deep inside, he was convinced that it was not just plain attraction or one night stand, and that he would feel incomplete without her.
It started raining heavily. Varun fearlessly walked in the rain, to experience every drop, seeping inside his white shirt, falling violently like grain drop on his face and he was suddenly feeling the beauty of falling in love.
He was carried away by the passion of love, falling in love every second by the presence of Huma, who was faraway from him yet he felt close to her. Varun longed for the presence of Huma and her perfect beauty. Nothing mattered to him. He was enjoying the divine feeling of walking, drenched in the heavy gush of water flowing till his knees and relishing the solitude of falling in love. Suddenly everything felt so romantic, divine and flawless.
Varun didn't realize that his steps took him as far as Colaba where he walked miles and back to Rajabhai Tower, Fort, surrounded by trees and flowers. He spotted a butterfly and like an innocent child, he held the butterfly in the palm of his hand. The blue butterfly suddenly sprang to life and out of the blue, transmitted its thoughts to him, "Dude! Huma is hiding something and will never fall in love with you. You are being carried away, captivated by her beauty. It's not love but lust. You are  being carried away by the moment where everything seems so beautiful. It's Maya and you are trapped by the fire of ignorance. You will burn in hell. Huma will never leave you in a lurch and is a ruthless woman."
"No," he protested. "It cannot happen to me. I am a strong person yet why I feel so gloomy when Huma is not around. But, what she has to hide? Nothing. Yet! Why I feel she is a mystery?"
As he looked for the butterfly to respond, it has has already disappeared out of thin air and in the flick of seconds. Varun is hallucinating and it's his inner voice speaking to him where it came this time in the form of the beautiful butterfly.
Varun finds himself plodding his steps inside the gate of the University and sat on the bench. He opened his bag and flipped open his notebook:

Butterfly moment adorning my life,
suddenly everything seems so beautiful and divine;
Strumming of guitar and drums beat inside my heart.
Everything comes to life like tinkling of bells inside the heart.
Is it love?

He didn't realized that the gel ink flowed on the blank pages of the note book and he gently closed it,  slipping inside the bag. Stroke of panic encapsulated him and he suddenly felt dizzy, 'No, it can't be happening to me. It was just plain attraction and sex.'

(To be continued in next chapter.....)



Monsoon Affair (4)

Monsoon Affair (4):

Huma Speaks:

Dear diary,

I am confused. Help needeed! Actually, not confused but guilty...lil bit. I need to vent out because I think he is falling in love with me. I have never been in love with someone. There were passing affairs, flings, good sex and what's not! Gawd! In school, I've been attracted to guys. What started as good fun with Karan seems to become serious! I am sure about myself, I've never encouraged him to fall in love with me. It was just plain attraction and last time, we had passionate sex and not love.
It's my monsoon make-up and thrilling fun. But, his text messages are getting scary now. No! I don't think that I am making him a toy in my hand, playing with his body and fucking him whenever it suits me. I know it's not that. Waking me up in the morning and sending sweet nothings, saying he shall never forget me and we shall always be together. It's not even one night stand but a passing affair, enjoying each other's company, being a support for each other. I believe in living in the moment. It's an experience, learning from the time spent with Varun.
For sure, I like him as a person. He is good at heart, goes out of his way to make me happy and shower me with cakes, flowers and cards. Hell! I don't like where he is taking the whole thing, passionate love and all that crap. I just don't have the nerves for all these things. But, why the guilt? Especially, when I know that we are just enjoying the moments of intimacy and just need each other to make up, at the sea front, behind the buildings, coffee house, theater and passionate sex at home. We just want to be burned in the fire of pleasure. At least, what I want, exploring different positions with him and exploring intimate zones with him where no one has gone. It's my life. I have needs, crave for them and fulfilling them.
How do I make this man understand? First, I shouldn't be bothered and call it off when boredom creeps in and expiry date comes. But, why why! Somebody please explain to me! I am scared to break his heart and don't wanna do that. Will he blame me later?Or, he is thinking that I am in love with him. Nopes! I am not. I am not encouraging anything nor using him, hope he knows that. Why this guilt!
The last thing I want is to go through is the whole relationship shit or give him the impression that I am using him. Should I speak to him? Will he understand? Or, use the old tricks of ignoring him, not replying to his frantic messages or simply, get out of the city for a while. I know, many girls do that nonsense but it will lead to nowhere. But, what do I tell him? We enjoy each other's company and what started as harmless pleasure between just happened in the flick of the moment, that night after two meetings. He visited my home, it started raining heavily and I asked him to stay. Ok! We flirted and ended up cuddling, smooching and we got laid. It's not that simple, I know, but it's so complex this harmless fling. Who said our human interactions are simply just like fuck? Hard as it gets!!
This whole crap is troubling me and I am not able to concentrate in college. My friends tell me that I am making a huge mistake and that they don't make guys like Varun. Nobody can love me like he does and he's a good catch. Cliche! Filmi! Love and all this crap, screws one's career and this is what matters to me, career. I wanna get into films and I don't want a relationship to destroy my life.
Ahem!Ahem! So much headache with something which I thought was good fun. I shall see how far he wanna go and I'll have to put everything straight. May be, we will have to part ways but I am sure it will be good for him as well, I mean for both of us. Sometimes, we gotta fall down to understand reality and doesn't matter that it hurts. Do I have a choice, dear Diary?

Monsoon Affair (3)

Monsoon Affair (3)

Drops of water rattles on the window sill, shaking the metal bars and it gave the impression that the glasses will burst anytime soon as the cool atmosphere, provoked by the rain waft inside. The furious weather doesn't distract the lovers but gave them a sense of comfort in the soothing silence in the evening.
The light is dim and the ambiance is set. Varun lies on the floor with his hand running on her naked legs. gently caressing her feet, running the hands up and down. She sits unfazed, not expressing the slightest sensation in her naked posture on bed. She laughed: "Do you want to hear from me that you making me feel like the naked queen?" Huma reaches out for the cigarette pack and took a drag, thinking deeply, "I'd say that the cigarette is arousing me more than those hands."
Varun moved his eyes towards the roof, expressing an amused look and sucked Huma's toes. Ouch! She ruffled his hair, "What are you trying to do? Deprived of food and water today. My toe is giving you the juice of life to quench your thirst. I am amazed that you are so dehydrated."
He inched on the bed where he almost jumped on her and crashed the bed. Huma chided him, "Careful, dude. It's a very expensive bed and I have only one." Varun gaped at the voluptuous body, round and well toned curves that looks like a sculpture, made straight from a museum. He caressed her with care, kissing her belly like a child licking lolly pop which he didn't to finish. 
"I am hungry today," he said in awe.
"Should I call KFC for some mouth-watering chicken wings?"
He exuded an exuberant smile. "When life gives you lemon, what do you make of it? Of course, sex."
She threw her pillow on his face before breaking into a roaring laughter. "At this moment, all you are thinking is those philosophical bull shit. Sometimes, guys can't think beyond boobs and tits. Wanna have some milk," she told.
He caressed the upper part of her belly, exploring zones and pressed his finger on her stomach. She asks, "Are you planning to worship me? I am no Goddess and you'll find them only in temples."
Varun gently caressed her nipples and sucked them with passion, as she scratched his shoulders. Deep inside, he knew that Huma was the temple of love-making and never on earth, he would get such passionate intimacy. It was a moment that will stay with him forever. This is paradise on earth. They bite into each other's mouth voraciously as she rubs his face with her leg. Varun pulled his legs wide, which she closed and turned on the other side of the bed. "Catch me, if you can, baby, "Huma teased him.
He was lying flat on the bed and Huma almost pounced on him, walking on his body, pressed his chest with his hand. "I wanna kill you, boy. Who says that men should always be on top?"
Varun was short of breath and for one second, really thought that Huma has turned into a murderer. Her looks made him grew suspicious and started wondering what's this anti-climax she is provoking.
"What's your intention?" he asked. "I can sense darkness."
Huma smiled, "I need to test you before letting you taste the nectar of life. He hand slowly moved inside his underwear, caressing his cock with lusty eyes, pressing it while he roared in pain. "Are you feeling orgasmic pleasure which is better than sex?" she asked.
He wanted to move away from her. "The only thing I am asking is that my asser very personal and not orange juice that you want to squeeze."
She makes some naughty sign and says, "Pappu Pass Ho Gaya..."
Varun stood still like a robot, admiring her face with the expression that nothing matters most than love. He is already in love with her and tells, "You know, I don't want this moment to elapse and how I wish it would remain eternal."
Huma was getting irritated and pulls him towards her, "We will not always be together. Shut up and bounce."
Huma moaned with pleasure, clutching his head tightly with the power of her hands as he lies on top of her.


Monsoon Affair (2)

Monsoon Affair (2)

Varun coiled back to his corner at the crowded railway station and the words of his love interest pierced his heart like an arrow. He was reeling under shock for a while after being rejected in such a rude way. There is no point crying over split milk, he told himself.
The lover boy tried to sleep on the hard surface, braving the cold and woke up at 4 a.m. He saw her sitting on the cement slab from afar and wondering what she must be thinking. Gradually, the rain subsided. He walked towards the loo to relieve himself and wash his face.
Stepping out of the railway station to lit a cigarette, he realized that the match box was wet and despite trying some old trick, there was no respite. He saw a lighter held upwards, cupped to his face to lit the cigarette he was holding between his lips. It was her. He muttered, 'Thank you.' She sported a faint smile, 'It's okay.' He thought, 'At least, she said something.'
She asked, "What do you do?"
Varun looked bemused at first, looked furtively around the clouded sky, "I am a communications student at Xavier's."
Now, she was having fun at his expense and getting some sadistic pleasure, seeing him confused and amused thinking how he came to flirt with her and fizzled like the cracker that failed to burst. 'Boys, will be boys. Let me have some more fun.'
She removed a single stick from her red Marlboro pack and took a drag, wearing an amused expression. Varun was now feeling awkward and didn't know how to break this silence when he saw her smiling sarcastically. 
She patted him on the back, "Ok! Enough of this sarcastic game. I can be bad at times and sorry for being rude. It's just that I can be like that since I was getting so irritated for being stuck in this stupid monsoon and stranded like that. Sorry! I was just having fun at your expense, Varun."
He smiled with a flirty, "O-k-ay! How do you know my name?"
She grinned, "So, what happened? You guys always forget things so easily, yesterday when you were hitting on me."
Varun was flustered. A taxi stopped in front of them, calling, 'Parel.'She opened the taxi door and asked, 'Coming?'
He innocently said, 'I am not going to Parel.'
She insisted, "Come inside. See! How drenched you are? You come for coffee at my place and then can go home after the rain stops."
She plays with her hair and turned to Varun, "By the way I am Huma."
He broke into a song, "Ek hogaye hum aur tum, Huma Huma" before breaking into peal of laughter.
She made a coy face, "Dude, it's so lame. My name is Huma and not Hama. By the way, singer, we are reaching my apartment.
They took the lift and entered Huma's apartment on 10th floor and Varun opened the door at the balcony which gave an aerial view of the city. He enthusiastically said, "Lucky, babe. What an amazing view of Amchi Mumbai, the roads, buildings and vehicles! Breath-taking."
She made coffee and stood on the balcony, "It's awesome, na. I enjoy having my coffee and sitting with  my lap top here. But, in the rain, it gets difficult. Gosh! It's crazy.
"By the way, no babe, ok. You better don't take advantage of the situation and don't ever think I have the hots for you. You see, I've invited you home on compassionate ground because of the rain and offered you coffee to warm the body. Drink your coffee, it's getting cold."
It was his turn to be amused, now. "Wow! You are such a kind soul, yaa. Your name shouldn't be Huma but Mother India, offering solace to the destitute in the monsoon. Do you invite every person at home during the rains"
She interrupted, "Just stop with your silly jokes or else I'll throw you out in this weather.You are quite a character"
"Haan," he retorted. "A little lesser than you."
She was at a loss of words and smiled sheepishly, tapping him on his shoulder.


Monsoon Affair (1)

This is the first series of a novella which I am presented to you people. It's a romance story set against the backdrop of monsoon in Mumbai. Enjoy the first chapter
It started raining heavily in Mumbai. It was the first shower where people dropped umbrellas to enjoy droplets of water falling on their heads and faces. Kids started prancing on the streets and by the sea. After all, it was the first rain in the city where crazy lots were doing somersault, women removing chappal to walk in the rain and running down the stairs to get wet. Maximum City opened their hearts to happiness after a long anticipation for the blessing of the Gods of the rain. Young couples waited for the moment to get intimate sitting on the boulder, petting each other and smooching, facing the furious wind and rain water splashing on their faces. The monsoon lady arouses lovers as they indulged in passionate intimacy.
All of a sudden, the rain grew furious in Maximum City and soon the local trains started running late, roads were transformed into seas and rivers. Passengers were stranded at railway stations, waiting for hours and trains moved at snail pace. Traffic was brought to a halt as the water level was rising in the city. It's going to be mayhem, the people feared. It's been hours that commuters were stranded, no signs of trains reaching the railway station and the rain continued unabated and grew furious as hours passed. Cars, buses and bikes were floating like paper boats on streets transformed into rivers.
The stuck commuters barged into the office of the already panicky railway officer and shouted to the latter and the cops trying to intervene. "Every time, same old story. We need a solution. You, guys, can't expect us to spend the night here, away from our homes."
Finally, the angry people relented and knowing that there is little they could do, spreading themselves on the floor and holding babies, children on their stomach. It was 11 p.m.
Dressed in black salwar kameez, she pulled her jet black hair that fell on her shoulders, backpack on her tiny shoulders and eyes scouting for a comfortable place to sit. There was none at the already crowded Dadar station. Her legs were paining and plodded her steps with utmost difficult, almost verging on tears. The only thing that preoccupied her mind was the teddy-bear gifted by Dad and who always cuddled to her in the room in the sky rise at her expensive apartment at Parel.
As she moved and flitted around the station, someone was eyeing her every move, admiring her steps, face and fair features. He was speechless, standing drenched in his blue denims, white tee and leather jackets with mouth wide open. 'I want to get drown into her eyes. It's the liquor of life. How can someone be so beautiful,' he told himself.
He was struck by her divine beauty and charm. Deep inside, he knew that he has to speak to her since he was automatically drawn to her. There are some people who touches your heart and soul, captivating your imagination like magnet.
Watching her move, he pretended to walk towards the truck where she was sitting on the platform. He was standing close to her and pretended to be anxious, bending his leg in air, adjacent to the track and thrusting his body to get a peek of the train at a looming distance.
She stood like statue, unfazed when he turned around, "Hi! Varun."
She tried to ignore him and kept walking, turned for two seconds, looked straight into his eyes with a severe look and turned her back to him. He was at her heels and tried to smile, "I said Hi."
Turning around, she said, "Listen! Please don't bug me or else I am going to create a scene here in front of everyone. I don't even know who you are and am not interested. Can't you see it." She walked away. He was left speechless and disappointed.


Ship Wreck-ed

It seems to be the season of fuck-ups! A virus and jink phase many of us going through, nearing depression. Someone getting involved with married person, fiancees breaking their engagement and pretending to be happy in front of parents, someone wanna get out of their marriage since it's not going anywhere or someone breaking up every single day with her beau only to hug the next day. The same old story, getting back to normal.
For me, it's the career which is preoccupying the mind and the whole never ending struggling phase. I hate my job but love what I do!! Respite needed. The urge to run against time to make money and adding to that, the numerous complex relationships snag we face in this crazy world. It makes me wonder what drives us so crazy in today's world that we face depression and propel us to hang on to a shoulder to cry. It's the world we live in where everything is equal to money and we gotta make it on our personal terms, no matter what it takes.
Who should take the blame? We as a society, human beings or the faulty education system which makes us ill-equipped to faced life and where we restrict ourselves solely to the rat race, gunning for excellence. It makes it difficult for us to pick our thread when we fall down. Ethics and moral values are overlooked where we justify everything that suits us. We need a shoulder to cry and provide us with temporary relief, some sexual and emotional pleasure that will hurt us in the long-run.
As human beings, we lead lonely lives and in the turbulent phase, many will not flinch from indulging in extra-marital sex or be unsure of our place in a marriage. It's this phase where we make competition the whole of our existed and lie defeated, doing things that we think is very common in life. I often wonder how we crumble and become emotional wreck at the slightest set back. We are so unprepared to deal with so many things on a professional level where stress get the better of us. The result is scary: emotional break down and heart attack.
It's just that we are running after money and to be on the top of the game, racing ahead to fight against the wheel of time. In this sheer madness, we may hurt people by forcing ourselves to relationship that ain't working and in the process, destroy lives. We put a face and compromise on our ethical and moral values/
I am yet to see a solution to see the problems we face in this crazy world. May be, quick fix where we jump into fast food relationships which is hardly a solution. Loneliness can be damaging to the self! Values are compromised. 
Perhaps, we, as human beings, need to stop for  a while so that the soul can breath free and figure out stuffs. The body may not be well-oiled and need to take rest and too much burden can wreck life. I am not judging what we get into but am unable to find an answer. Should we quit and abandon our dreams and happiness in a job or relationship that is draining us? At times, I lack the courage to do things the way I want it to be and feel older than a 70-year-old. In that way, our elders were way better than us by living a simple life and having control on their lives. I need an answer that is fast, super efficient and rationale.


The young boy in love and his angel

The letter was folded neatly in the cheap two rupees envelope and nicely tucked inside his short. Jim slipped away from home and hopped on the truck travelling out of the city. Little Jim has an arrangement with the truck driver who takes him at the post office, miles away from the village,  every Tuesday.  In exchange, Jim hides food inside his school tiffin to share with the old man who takes him to the post office where he would drop hand-penned letter in the letter box.
Sitting at the nearest railway station near his dingy cottage, he would write letter during the night before walking back home. It's been a year that Jim writes imaginary letters to the nameless girl who came in his dream. He wanted to meet her and bore his heart out, mustering courage to tell how beautiful she is.
She comes in his dream, dressed like a white swan, ruffling his hair and planting a kiss on his cheek. Jim would smile in his dream and looking to meet his princess. In his world, she is the only one that matters. The letter was addressed to the white mermaid.
Image credit: Google/shutterstock.com

'Dear Princess'
You always torture me in my sleep. I can't find you. Why you never speak to me and suddenly disappear in the dust? I loove it when you kiss me on the cheek. You are elder to me but you are a princess, flawless. I am drawn to you. I want to meet you. Where are you? I loove you loads. Will you be mine?

It's been weeks that Jim has been waiting for a reply from the post office. Every time, the security would chase him away ruthlessly. He wore a dejected look and hopped on the truck, not uttering a word during the journey back home. 
The truck driver asked him, 'What happened, Sony boy? So silent, today.'
Jim broke into tears, 'She doesn't love me.'
Finally, Jim confessed his story after being coaxed by his friend. The kind truck driver, tried not to laugh and understood his childhood friend. 'See! Boy! Don't worry. I will find you a girl who will love you. It's a promise.'
The next day,  the truck stopped near his house. A beautiful girl, dressed in white salwar kameez, slowly got down the truck and walked with care towards Jim. She hugged him, "Jim! Sorry. I love you loads. I was busy.' She kissed him gently on his cheek.
Jim was confused, "But, you don't look like her in dreams.'
She smiled, "It's a dream. You see. I don't want the world know how much I love you. I changed my appearance so that the world doesn't know about us.'
Jim gave her a soft peck on her lip and clutched her hands, refusing to let her go. The truck driver winked at her niece. On their way back, the truck driver laughed, "Jim is a kid and will get out of it. I want him to be happy. Thanks a lot."
"Any time, uncle," she smiled.
That night, Jim slept peacefully, expressed the brightest smile.She didn't come in his dreams.

With Love


Soft breeze and quest for freedom

Tender leaves and soothing tree branches,
captures the heart and soul.
Gentle stroke of leaves usher stillness and silence, caressing the senses.
Cool atmosphere brings feeling of peace and human happiness.
Birds flowing in the quest for freedom and
perched atop the branches, chirping the song of life.
Nature's beauty provides fodder to the mind and cornucopia of thoughts.
A new leaf is turned rekindling hope and inspiration.

With love


10 Things about Me

Hey folks,
Hope you doing well and enjoying life, king size. There are certain thing about me, which never cease to surprise 'truly yours' and how about blowing your mind on a Sunday. Here, you go and it's a throw back.

1. Silent movie
I can range from being over enthusiastic and go soundless, by being a silent movie. I am known to bring the house down by being a moronic fool, to make people laugh and the next moment, going totally silent, withdrawing in my shelf by not speaking a single word. Well! That's me.

2. Day dreamer
I dream of almost anything, being a celebrity, an actor to performing at awards. Most of the time is spent dreaming of raking crores and it can be anything, ok! It's bad habit, I know, but this is how dreams are churned out.

3.  Solo conversationalist
Now, this is something many don't know about me. I am a solo conversationalist and enjoy speaking to the self when I am not ranting on Facebook or Twitter. Speaking to self is a crazy exercise that I enjoy doing which I feel is very productive and good for the self.

4. Need a kick in the butt
The laziest person on earth is yours truly and I need a kick in the butt, being constantly pushed to the edge to get things done. A jack of all trade and a master of none would fit my description where I'd plan to do so many things on one single day but end up doing none , like it happened today. So, I need to shouted at to achieve the extraordinary.

5.Hates over friendly people
My space is sacred for me and get defensive when people enter this space. Pointer for over friendly people: Mind it, I just hate you, the moment you come invited into my space and like an army general, I will fight infiltration.

6. Finicky and get personal
I get personal, over possessive and finicky over my personal stuffs, be it, my pens, mugs and glasses. I love collecting pens, books, mugs and water glasses. It's in very rare occasions that I can lend someone my books and first thing is that I should trust you. I have learned my lesson the hard way and there has been people who never gave back my books. I lost my personal mug in office where a moron took it on Friday and since then, it's been missing. There is no way I am going to use it ever again and gotta buy a new one. It's one of my pet peeves.

7. Re-create past
The past is gone, long and buried. I have the bad habit of longing to re-create the glorious and memorable past which I miss like hell, at times, be it college days or the amazing moment spent in Mumbai, my city. I long to be back in Maximum City to make new memories-to put it in a fresh manner- in the same place. I so miss those moments at Marine Drive, Bandra and often the memories come back vividly in the mind, the sirens of local trains or Best Buses in the morning. I am just in awe and loove the place.

8. Film buff
I am a film buff and cannot live without them. I breath cinema and can go bonkers, totally crazy if I spot movie stars. Often dreaming to be one of them, I die to watch the latest release, though for months I haven't been able to watch many movies. Thankfully, I was on a film spree during the last few months, watching amazing movies like Piku, Tanu Weds Manu Returns and Bombay Velvet. Yesterday, caught up with Luv Shuv Tey Chicken Khurana and totally love it. There was one time where I would watch three movies in a week but owing to hectic work schedule, I am not able to follow my religion. The latter is cinema.

9. Awkward Me
I can get awkward with people, be it in a party or in a place filled with people which means walking  in front of a horde of people freaks me out. I can spend a minimum of one hour in a party and post that, I get bored. It almost an impossible task for me to strike a conversation with new people at times and it's one out of 10 that I would walk up to a stranger to strike a conversation. I hate doing that. Parties bore me to death now, a far cry from college days.

10. Rebel
I have always been a rebel who refuse to live life as prescribed with the norms of society. Call me a 'Rebel Without A Cause', it hardly matters for I believe in leading life on my own free will. Right from college days and now, where more than 10 years has passed, I still refuse to bow to the ways of the world be it pressure to settle down, believe in religion, Gods or rituals and follow the traditional route.



Chasing her dreams

Chasing her dream,
she left the family cocoon;
Meeting with resistance, she almost sacrificed her identity
for her parents happiness;
In no time, she was on the verge of tears, nearing depression
and unhappiness;
Her soul mate told her, if you cannot be happy, you cannot make anyone happy;
One day, she took the bold steps;
She had to;
After all, being stuck in her old life was suffocating her;
They were angry with her,
but she decided to soar in the sky,
in quest of happiness and identity;
No one knew about her where about,
but she was happy to live in oblivion of her near and dear ones,
to make her dreams come true;
She faced disappointment in love and turned down by the factory of hope and expectations,
broken inside but not yet out;
Picking herself and keep walking,
that was her mantra to lead a fulfilled life.

With Love


The artist, words, pot of ink and paper

Blank papers, pot of ink scattered on the wooden table;
Muse goes missing from the mind as author looks for inspiration;
A tale of mojo and the world is the oyster;
Periphery of thoughts and imagination;
Tales concocted in the mind and creating of a new world, 
replete with drama;
It eludes the artist further in its quest of churning the factory of thoughts;
Sleepless nights in quest of good story,
words connecting the dots;
Power of characters freshly baked finds echo with the artist,
as ink poured on paper, feeling the dripping sensation of plunging deep in the magnificent ocean.



Encounter with his angel

Kabir waited at the railway station. It was 1.40 a.m. The last train has already departed and the station wore a deserted look, inhabited by flies and few police officers, resting their legs on the red plastic chairs and rifles lying on the decrepit wall.
He looks bored and laughed at his own stupidity, for missing the train. After all, it was the matter of few extra drinks that he stayed over and convinced by pals. Wanting to kick himself on the bum, he told himself, 'Now, there is no option to go to Bandra and I cannot obviously walk home in the middle of the night.
Suddenly, a tall shadow crept and he upped his gaze to see a beautiful, flawless face dressed in a red salwar kameez and hair falling on her shoulders. She looks dazzling and it reminds him the stories of angels narrated by Grand pa at bed time. "You will find her one day when she will pop in front of you," he remembers the words of the wise old man,
She smiles to him in an effortless manner that melt his heart and forgot all his woes for a while, Kabir was automatically drawn to her as her steps moved away from her railway station. He followed her as she crossed the field and disappeared in the by lanes, inhabited by dingy match-boxed houses. The beautiful woman suddenly disappeared and Kabir turned around, his eyes craving for her. Suddenly, he jumped on his feet with a shriek when he sensed someone gently caressing him on the shoulder. She surfaced in front of him like an enigma, coming straight from another world. There was something mysterious about her who looked exactly like the girl he flirted with in the dance bar. Before disappearing, this beautiful woman, tresses falling on her face seductively touched his hand, "Come. Let's go to heaven together," She disappeared in the flick of second.
Earlier, during the day, newspapers reported of a shoot out at Chameli dance bar in the outskirt of Mumbai when one of the girls, Seema, succumbed to the firing between two rival gangs.


Bundle of joy marvels at beauty of life

Twinkling eyes, tiny hands and adorable face,
he upped his gaze at the toys hanging on the colorful bed.
He is the apple of their eyes,
showering unlimited love and affection.
Giggling at everyone holding him in their arms,
kissing him on the reddish cheek.
Amazed at the beauty of this world defining his existence,
his tiny eyes moved upward to the great power,
conversing to him.
He loving nodded to the angels and both spoke the language,
understood by the heart and soul.

With Love


The fire of hell, passionate love

They say opposite attract,
it was the changing season and the flame of love burned like in hell.
She was the in-your-face rebel and living life dangerously.
He was the idealist, brooding silently in a corner and was aloof.
Timid he was to approach a girl.
Yet! They met in the most unique way,
sharing a cup of tea at the tea stall.
Their eyes made contact with each other, caught in the flurry passion.
It was poisonous hell, longing for each other.
They made savage love to each other, passionately kissing and tearing each other's clothes.
Their naked souls were drowned into each other,
bodies doing the talking.
Deep inside, they knew that one they shall be burned in the fire of hell,
breaking social barriers and boundaries for 
they knew it was the ultimate love,
nothing ever mattered to them.
One day, their love was ravaged by the boundaries crossed.
The world was out to exterminate them,
as they tread dangerously in the world of extreme,
They were condemned, judged and dealt with ruthless death.
Two bodies assaulted on the middle of the road as their hearts pierced by gun shots.

With Love


Sunday Gupshup

I love Sundays, the joy of waking up late, chilling reading the news websites, HT Brunch is one of my favorites and sipping coffee to heaven. It's been a tiring and frustrating work, longing to explore new avenue, going back to the root read Mumbai and covering new heights, dying to be in the land of Sheikh Dubai. 
It's been a late wake up call today post 10.30, a far cry when waking up past noon would be considered to be early by my standard. Still relishing the few minutes of the upswing despite the lull where I interviewed the new Head of State of Mauritius, Dr Ameenah Gurib Fakim a renowned scientist, the country where I am currently located, first time a woman in the tiny island. I conducted two interviews of her in a span of three weeks and the day she was officially proclaimed, clicked for the shutterbug with her. What I loved about the sound byte to me is how she is proud of her Indian origin and paid tribute to Indian expatriates across the globe.
With the new Head of State of Mauritius, Dr Ameenah Gurib Fakim

As I look around in the room, I see copies of magazines, India Today and The Week, which I gotta road and scattered on the table. The blog is something I gotta give attention on a Sunday and hence, speaking to you guys. There are so much I wanna do on a Sunday but end up not doing, watching movie, writing in the diary and weaving short stories. Oh! Hell! That too on a Sunday.
Gotta break the monotony of sitting with eyes straight in front of the lap top and getting all teary-eyes when I miss my city, amchi Mumbai, watching it on You Tube. It feels like yesterday I was sitting and walking past the boulders and sea wave at Marine Drive, spending Sundays at Bandra Bandstand, walking past Shah Rukh Khan's house, all for a few rupees travelling by train and BEST Buses. 
Google India: Bandra Bandstand
Or, the mouth-watering Paani Puri before heading to Barista for an amazing cuppa coffee, admiring the beauties, Sandras in Bandra. Oh! Hell! Give me back my life in Mumbai. I dunno when I shall be back in Mumbai for good and till then, flash back of memories gives me satisfaction.
That's the lazy me on a Sunday. I wonder what one should do on a Sunday, sitting in the room, listening to music or writing and watching a movie. Till the bye, bye, shall make some drinks in the evening and whatsapp some friends.



Taste of life, ecstatic and intimate moment

The lip melts at the sheer attractiveness and beauty.
Longing to taste the pristine sensual nectar of life,
mermaids sunk into oblivion.
Tongue swirling, taste of life, 
caressing the lip and holding it in the mouth for seconds.
How I wish the intimate moment would be an eternal tryst!
A moment to die for, a passion carved for the moments of togetherness,
relishing every second.
The unique whisky and single malt finally finds place inside the body and
warming the senses.
A new high felt and sent adrenaline rushes.
Pure bliss and ecstatic moment.


Fiction: First Shoot Out

First Shoot Out
Genre: Fiction
The dreaded street in Bombay, shedding blood shed during the day with gang war and firing, wore a deserted look past midnight. One could spot a dim light at Sapna dance bar and Hindi songs heard from a distance.
The skinny and lanky fellow stood near the tea stall, wearing a tense look and shaking like tree branches. It rained heavily in Bombay and the road was still wet. He looked furtively towards the dingy shops and decrepit apartments, the home of prostitutes and Sapna dance bar, frequented by underworld dons, small time contract killers, undercover cops where deals by Bombay mafia are zeroed. Dongri is the home of crime where the men in Khaki are rendered powerless and fall sway to the gang lords, paying obeisance to the chief in exchange for sweet boxes containing stack of notes to turn a blind eye to the world of crime.
The lanky guy was jobless for years and survived on morsel, it was the chance to prove his might and once the job was done, he would be rewarded handsomely. He wanted to get out of the poverty trap and sleeping on an empty stomach. He prayed for the work to be done in a perfect manner. The tensed man made few steps so as not arise suspicion and finished a pack of Four Square cigarette, the cheapest he could lay his hand on and kept some biddi in his pocket. He has been waiting for an hour.
A Mercedes car stationed in front of Sapna Bar. He knew it was his chance. It was now or never. A shadow erupted out of the bar and he cautiously approached the man with fat belly, unkempt look, wearing white Kurta. The man was too sloshed to notice his assailant who removed the revolver from his pocket and ruthless fired three shots.
The fat man collapsed on the car as shard of glasses exploded. His security had no time to fire back and the time they recovered, the young man already disappeared amidst the gun shots at him. It was his first murder and was successful at it like a maven of crime. He jumped inside the dirty river flowing beneath the bridge.
The don, hunted for decade by Bombay Police was dead finally. The phone rings. It was 3 a.m  in the police chowky where constables and inspectors were bored to death, sleeping on the wooden table. Nobody picked the call. Inspector Damle was brutally woken from his slumber and the voice at the end broke the news, "The kid won the toss, Dongri' Baba has left his abode." Inspector Damle jumped on his feet and laughed. He lit a cigarette at the unbelievable news, cheering for himself that what Bombay Police couldn't do in 10 years was done by a street smart kid. It was the monsoon of 90s and suddenly, it started raining. Inspector Damle laughed, "Now, who on earth would believe it was Bombay Police who killed the biggest underworld don. It was not done by our men yet it was our thought who buried him underground. The neck of Bombay Mafia is broken."
Inspector Damle shouted at his men, "Call the press. Let's run to Sapna Bar. Nakabandi and Bombay bandh."


Film Review: Bombay Velvet is a master piece, tribute to the city

Film Review: Bombay Velvet
Cast: Ranbir Kapoor, Anushka, Kay Kay Menon, Vivaan Shah and introducing Karan Johar, Raveena Tandon Thadani, Satyadeep Mishra
Music: Amit Trivedi
Production Design: Sonal Sawant
Choregraphy: Ashley Lobo
Cinematography: Rajeev Ravi
Producers: Anurag Kashyap, Vikramaditya Motwane, Vikas Bahl, Madhu Mantena
Directed by: Anurag Kashyap
Rating: Four Stars

Crunching numbers is a misnomer in the form of box office collection that can seal a film's fate every Friday. Bombay Velvet is a film noir which I was finally able to watch today and despite the negative reviews panning the film online, I followed my heart. At one glance: Anurag Kashyap's Bombay Velvet is a brilliant and magnificent movie, paying a fitting tribute to the Bombay of another era where the underbelly world has been deftly explored, extracting the best from worthy actors such as Ranbir Kapoor, Anushka Sharma who have done full justice to their roles.

The film starts with the portrayal of Bombay in the late 40s, old buildings, sea face, majestic roads, trains and buses to give us a feel of the city in those days. Anurag Kashyap is one director who never shies away from experimenting with flicks, be it No Smoking, That Girl in Yellow Boot, Black Friday, GoW and Bombay Talkies. His biggest forte lies in the narration of the story, well-sketched and detailed characters and the city as a background to his portrayal of life. In Bombay Velvet, Kashyap experimented with the city, studying the nuances of characters who come in the city with aspirations to make their life go bang. This is the strength of Bombay Talkies and credit goes to Kashyap where there is no single, dull moment in treating the subject, story, screenplay and direction.
Bombay Velvet belongs to the category of movies where one fails to follow the sequences, it is difficult to get a grasp and may end up feeling lost. The movie is a cinematic gem where experimenting with the subject, 'Bombay' as the backdrop is made vibrant and weaved as one of the characters.

Bombay is the alter ego of Balraj (Ranbir) and becomes his life, zing and strength. Both cannot exist without each other. The pace at which Bombay moves makes one glued to the seat, the camera movements and close-up scenes zooming on Johnny, Rosie, Chimman or Kaizad. In short, Bombay Velvet, based on Gyan Prakash's Mumbai Fables is slickly made, has pace, restrained at times where the underdog meets the super rich. It's a tribute to the gem made in 70s such as Deewar or Don, for that matter. The director's subtle yet sublime vision of cinema where he captures every single vision to the minutest in every frame, is a treat to watch.
In the past, there were movies such as Mere Naam Joker and Agneepath who failed to set the cash register rolling at the box office but ultimately, emerged as classics. Bombay Velvet belongs to such category and is a reference in terms of brilliant film-making, coming of age cinema, powerful narration and aesthetic approach to shoot the streets in the majestic city, 'Bombay' which is a world in itself. Brilliant characterization!
Bombay Velvet, for me, is a reference in film-making and what meaningful cinema is all about. Kashyap Sir, I need a part 2. Bombay Velvet is a tribute to the good old Bombay, mills, streets and somehow, I feel is an extension of Kashyap's life and struggle in the city. The director deserves applause for giving Ranbir an award winning performance and for extracting the best in Anushka Sharma, showcasing Vivaan Shah in a different light and giving Karan Johar something to boast about on his impressive cv. Johar made a decent debut as the villain and is competent. Bombay Velvet will remain in the history of cinema as a bold reference and Kashyap should be credited for never shying away from experimenting the noir coupled with sexuality. The film is a swan song for movies portraying 'Bombay' with sensibility and competence.

Ranbir Kapoor has added another feather to his cap as Balraj re-christened Johnny by Khambata and proves why he is one of the most versatile actors, experimenting with challenging roles every time. As Johnny aka Balraj, the Kapoor scion delivers a power-packed and award winning performance. Definitely, Ranbir should be in the list for the Best actor award and deserves every single honor. Ranbir's raw intensity, suppressed anger, eyes doing the taking and obsessing over his lady love makes him move one notch higher. Anushka Sharma as Rosie Noronha, plays a jazz singer who has been exploited by every man in town, bedding her but finally finds love in Johnny. Anushka is a versatile actor who has always done justice to the role she plays and injects freshness by playing Rosie. Though, Bombay Velvet is all about Bombay now Mumbai and Ranbir, Anushka leaves an impact by playing her part in a convincing manner, matching stalwarts such as Ranbir, Karan Johar and Kay Kay Menon at every single step. She plays it out intensely and echoes the view of a modern girl who refuses to be cowed down by a man. A deserving act.
Bombay Velvet marks the debut of KJO on the silver screen and he does a fine job as Kaizad Khambatta. He plays a gay character, who has an inkling for Johnny but controls Bombay and never shies away to send his wife to trap his targets. As the villain, KJO has done a fine job, though a certain intensity, instilling fear is missing. Vivaan Shah made his debut in Farah Khan's Happy New Year and plays an intense-cum-mature role where he has done justice. The young actor shows his potential playing a difficult character in lesser screen time but shines. Kay Kay Menon as the cop is competent but, however, has few moments. However, Menon is effortless in his limited screen presence.

What's Not!
Bombay Velvet is a tribute to the Bombay of 70s which I am alien to. The director has shot the movie frame-to-frame with competence that makes one relate to it. However, one would wish the film-maker would further explore the under-belly in the city and put more emphasis on the conflict between mill workers, exploring further the communist vs capitalist fight as well as the red light area. How one would wish that Kashyap would have given a bigger screen presence to Menon as I mentioned, exploring conflict between the latter on one hand and Ranbir, Karan, on the other. As a villain, KJO has done a commendable job but the menace, intensity, eye expression and grave look is missing in his version of Kaizad Khambatta.

Final Frame aka climax:
Picture credit: Google India
Anurag Kashyap's camera zooms on the city, accompanying you right from the first reel and real to reality, the moment you set foot in the city, armed with dreams and aspirations. Bombay Velvet celebrates life in the city that never sleeps and this is what Mumbai or Bombay at that time, is all about. The director's vision of the city, right from the time the camera rolls, sparking action till the end, his attention to uncanny details, sublime cinematography and clean editing makes Bombay Velvet a magnificent movie. The director's eye for aesthetic charm in his picturization of the city or shooting the kissing scenes between Ranbir and Anushka remains the strong elements. Kashyap's bring to the fore sexuality, with Kaizad eyeing Johnny from top to toe or mouthing, 'Rosie mein tumne kya dekha jo mujme nahin tha' or 'Bambai ke bahar kya hai pata hai? India. Aur wahan pe bhukhmari hai.' It's about aspirations in the city of dreams. A disturbing reality exploring the underbelly in the city, Bombay Velvet has some amazing tracks, be it the track featuring Raveena Tandon Thadani or Anushka, Mohabbat Buri Bimari, Dhadaam Dhadaam Aam Aadmi, the stylish cars and picturisation makes it a small master-piece. Perhaps, I belong to the small majority that is giving a thumps up to Bombay Velvet but it's one movie that will be a reference to old Bombay and experimental cinema.

Tip, Toe, Tip, Toe! Flurry of rain!

Tip, Toe
Branches rattling on the window pane.
Wake up, time!! Tip Toe, Tip Toe
Rain falling on the roof like muddy grain..
Tip Toe, Tip Toe
Falling asleep to the sound of rain lashing,
ears witnessing its flurry soothing the mind.
Tip Toe, Tip Toe
It started raining,
The room is cold and temperature flashing the joy of childhood.
Tip Toe Tip Toe.
Dancing in the pool of water, playing street soccer.
The uniform get wet.
Tip Toe Tip Toe.
Moma scolding.
I walk up, gyrate to the rain
Tip Toe, Tip Toe.
Give me back my childhood and rain dance.


Give selflessly and in contentment

The doer known color,
the giver knows no selfish reason in tendering his hand and heart to the downtrodden.
No pain shall be too much to take,
Generosity is a virtue for those who give without expecting in return.
The giver with a clean heart knows his path to fulfillment,
journeying his sway to bliss and thoughts pure like white.
He who gives reap in abundance,
Unadulterated love and happiness.
A pure mind spells spirit of heart capable of loving fully,
embraces with arms wide open.
Open the heart and mind to seas of humanity,
devoid of prejudices, offer care and emotional warmth.
The joy of giving bears no ulterior motive of receiving pot of golf.
Give selflessly for there is no reason to love.