Fiction: A smoke to light

 A smoke to light

The light wore a dim shade. The room was eerily dark. He sat on the bed inside the hotel room and popped open the scotch bottle with his teeth as the alcohol wafted through his nostril. He took a long breath and lay on the bed, pouring a large peg. 

The alcohol swirled on the palate of his tongue and guzzled inside his throat to flow inside his belly. He felt a rush of warm sensation spurting inside the body that helped him overcome the icy cold winter that paralyzed his entire body. 

The room was silent. He was enjoying the moments of solace with the alcohol for company and switched off his mobile. After gulping three pegs of his favorite Scotch, he felt dizzy and reached out for his cigarette pack. He exuded relief. There was only one stick of Wills left in the box.

He ruffled through the table filled with papers and but the match box has mysteriously disappeared. 

After turning everything upside down in the room, he was resigned to his fate and slouched on the soft bed, caressing the mattress, longing for a smoke and intimate passion. There was none today.

Cursing his destiny, he rested his head on the white bed pillow and blinked the eyes, imagining the next erotic story that haunted his mind. ‘But how’, he wondered. ‘There is no one for company and can’t even feel the dirty twist and moves. Even there is no smoke to fire the brain,’ he whined.

In the flick of minutes, he choked and felt an unknown force pressing his chest that could explode at any time. He struggled with the invisible force running the legs up and down his chest, flipping on face and ear. Soft music played. A long black skirt dropped and the flawless skin crawled on his stomach, bending seductively to the cusp of his lip with a knife, she whispered in a sensual voice, “Why you need a smoke, baby? Light me up. I am the fire. Perish in my flame.”

Love

Vishal

Flash fiction: Lone woman and the teddy bear

The station was packed like tiny eggs huddling for space and pushing to adjust in the small boxes. The profused sweat could be treated like a new home made deo flung on the market as shoulders brushed past each other in a randomly hairy and skin touching invisible affair.

A sensual hand pushed the hair tress falling on her icy face like a brush stroke back and looped around to wriggle her way among the bustling crowd at the Chatrapati Shivaji Terminus in Mumbai. She furtively cast a glance and shot a menacing gaze at the leering men around her, knobbed her palm in a fist to attack. A dabbang woman, she had her huge soft toy for company as she pushed people to make way in between as if they are some thick bushes to plonk herself in the last seat in the men compartment.

The train slowly chugged away from CST station. She was fixing the crowd on the road, roaring to activity, taxis and buses stormed like devils spouting fire, and the people going berserk to run against time. 

She broke up with her guy after seven years and felt triumphant for calling him off. A ditch is the last thing she ever wanted to fall into. There was no goodbye tear or pleading him to leave his wife. She sat cross-legged and stared at the crowd that didn’t intimidate her.  It was a mystery to her that she sat among a horde of sweating men and whose shoulders occupied the space on the seat and almost crumpled her. She felt no pain or awkwardness.  

A young college kid traipsed inside and held on to the handle on the roof, wearing a tired look. She offered her seat to him but he pretended to ignore him. "Oye! Kid! Don't show so much attitude. I am not some despo woman hitting on you or some bhabhi hungry for sex. Dekh tu bacha hai. Sit! I can stand. Just because I am woman, doesn't mean that I need a favor from the world in the local train. You are so mild mannered and rude...someone is speaking to you and can't even acknowledge her."

The young man looked around and peeped through the window as the train zoomed ahead of the slums and decrepit buildings where children were prancing around the mound of mud.  She was tired calling this boy who seemed to be carried deep down in a trance-like world.

She fell asleep and was swayed by the whistle of the train and the windy breeze that felt like a lullaby. Growing voices stirred her and she rubbed her eyes with her hand. The college boy has disappeared. She looked around but there was no one traveling with her in the wagon that zipped at the speed of light.

The invisible voices laughed and shrieked, teased her on her reluctance to leave her flesh and the body shot at gunpoint by her boyfriend inside the train. 'You knew too much, baby,' the invisible voices roared. She clutched to her lone friend, the soft teddy bear and watched the last shred in her life get away like the local train moving past the huge trees, earth, and human populace to enter a dark tunnel. Her eyeballs popped out and travelled to the tune of the train dangling in the air. 

The end

Parch of emotions

Parch of emotions,

pigeons flocking with ruffled feathers,

morning cooing,

melodious lullaby to the ears,

fluttered branches,

dry season,

windy conversation,

turn a new leaf,

it's no imagination,

sensual feet interlocked under the white sheet,

the naked caress,

like soft furs.

human flesh is no crumpled paper,

stain of blood,

the rebel march,

to satiate hunger,

wipe dust of caste, gender, and class,

destroy the lies,

break the shackles.

a long way to freedom of mind,

pick a berry,

oppression everywhere,

sex,

women,

men,

the paddy field hiding the sinful and lusty bodies,

don't douse the flame.

till every oppressor is exterminated.

Love

V

A decade of Jab We Met, slice of joy and cherished affair

A decade of fun, love, free birds, unlimited craziness and timelessness can make you feel old as you look back suddenly realizing how time has flitted to soar in the sky. Like the brush of windy winter, Geet seeped into our lives and her innocence captured our hearts and imagination. Hard to believe that it’s been a decade when Imtiaz Ali’s Jab We Met (JWB) gave us so much unadulterated joy and happiness.



A carefree soul and longing to explore life as a student in Mumbai when the magic of Jab We Met hit me in places and like many, I was head over heels in love with Geet. One of my favorite if not the one, the ‘mein apni favourite hatke girl made us dream of love, dating or being in a relationship with someone like her who is like the Mumbai local trains, bak bak, and dhak dhak.

At that time, I was in a relationship with someone that was going nowhere and it almost hit my head on the wall since we were in a switch on and off mode. I so wanted Geet to be like her. She was in a way my ‘Geet’.  It was a Saturday evening lazing around in the hostel at Churchgate when I suddenly decided to catch Jab We Met at Eros, the typical theatre that brought so much joy sitting in the balcony seat for 60 bucks and munching samosas at a time when the virus of multiplexes just started.

Thanks to the small mercies of life that it was just the start of the plex era which didn’t go into the destructive spree of killing the small joy and fun of watching movies in a typical theatre during those days.

 

The audience laughed at the crazy jokes and Geet’s innocence mouthing, ‘Bachpan se hi naa mujhe shaadi karne ke bahat craze hai’. The taalis and seethis made the memory of JWB a resonating affair, captured by the mind, soul and heart. There is so much that Geet has taught us in life. Live with wild abandon and indulge in things in a very innocent manner to explore your inner side. You are never too late or old to have fun, be it plunging in deep water, pursuing the passion left midway or never say no to love. I always say it, Life deserves another chance. We don’t owe it to anyone but to ourselves. Close the eyes, fall in love again and get into a brand new relationship for it doesn’t matter how much you suffered in the previous one.

Be stupid. Yes, I love Geet’s philosophy and approach to life where she slowly takes Aditya’s hand to teach him the basic lessons that he has either forgotten or the ruthless society imposed to harden him like a stone. There are many Adityas in this world and we need just one Geet to remind us about the simple and basic facts of not taking load, de-clutter or free ourselves. Life is too short for us not to make the most of every moment, right.





Bury the past with a smile or flush this picture that hurts you the most. That’s Geet and you cannot stop yourself from being smitten with her. The smile, attitude and innocence that Kareena injects into the character make her breath Geet in every single frame of the movie. Of course, the vision of Imtiaz Ali makes us relate to the characters that have carved a special place in our hearts.

As a character, Aditya is underrated and it’s fine that many find him boring but there is no denying the fact that he is endearing.  He is humble, gentle, brooding but genuine. Shahid Kapoor injected his personal touch in constructing Aditya Kashyap, perhaps his boy next door image made the character believable and the vulnerability quotient lent a unique charm in fleshing it. What I love about Aditya is that he hides his emotions and there is a certain jealousy that makes him hate his mother for leaving her Dad. But, hey! That’s what love is all about. Geet tells him that his Mom was in love and teaches us that all is well when we are in love. There is no justification of good or bad. It’s the only thing that should matter to us. ‘Jab koi pyar mein hota hai toh koi sahi galat nahin hota.’

The scene at Hotel Decent-how can we forget it-‘train mein mila...item’ and what expression of the hotel owner. In the film, Geet undergoes a transformation where she almost converted into a nun but then love has its own way of finding you. The new and changed Aditya comes to rescue her at the right moment plus the icing on cake, the gaali to Anshuman that makes it epic.

Love yourself first. There is nothing wrong with that. Geet says it unabashedly and yet it doesn’t make her selfish for she is a totally free, kickass and independent woman who goes out of her way to help a random stranger in the train. ‘Mein Khud ki favorite hoon’ is all about taking care of the self and about having a huge self-esteem. It’s pure love and not vanity. Always follow your heart and the crowd doesn’t define you as echoed by Geet’s multi-faceted personality for she never lived a life of lies and leaves everything in the pursuit of love. Do not let the world define who we are and what we become or else, it means living someone’s else life.

Jab We Met redefined urban relationships on the silver screen and sashayed in our lives by portraying the down-to-earth characters. It was not just a film but a journey, not shying away from narrating the philosophy of life. Imtiaz Ali taught us how to live life to the fullest and of course, Geet is the dream girlfriend that we would all love to have. The movie has brought back so many fresh memories where it explored the various shades of relationships that make it a timeless affair to cherish.

Love
Vishal

Trapped souls

Hushed voices,

imprisoned in a square foot dark cell,

darkness engulfing the mind,

dance of ghosts,

lurking behind,

a shadow buried the haunting past,

destroyed with my own hands,

fear of the unknown,

whispers,

a lone voice,

of sons and daughters,

mothers and fathers,

devils and  monsters,

spiritual gurus and goddesses,

blood and soul,

a liberating echo,

love and sex,

moving beyond the flesh,

the trapped soul,

declutter the mud,

raging the mind and soul,

seek this voice of truth.

With Love
Vishal

Celebrating emotion of Diwali and it's changing appeal.

Happy Diwali, people,

The time of the year where we wait with bated breath to wear new clothes, buy earthen and colorful lamps, indulge in mithai khaoin, the cute candles and of course the sweet delicacies prepared at home. The festival of light poses as the moment to re-kindle the celebration of oneness and togetherness with family and friends, sending images and GIF to the dear ones with whom we share a close bond. Diwali brings a certain emotional closeness despite the distance and one occasion for us to reflect on the storms weathered and standing the test of times despite we are scattered in various places on the globe.

The moment to fulfill our responsibilities, cementing bonds and looking at moments elapsing as we enter a brand new season and ringing in cheers for the upcoming new year. Diwali has always been my favorite festival giving the rare treat to gorge on the sweetmeats and I am already missing the unique delicacies in India, the friends with whom we would hang out together in Pune or revelling in every moment worth spending that has been forever captured by emotions of the heart. Such moments stay forever.

There are various memories associated with the celebration and things keep changing as Diwali gets a global makeover. Rightfully so, life doesn’t stay static and one should not shy away from exploring new things since what matters is the sparkle in the heart where the mohallas or surroundings become vibrant with colors and lights.  As a kid, I remember watching Mom whipping the mound since the wee morning hour and intrigued at her hand steering the flour to perfection with her hands. She would stay awake with Dad past midnight till the Gulab Jamun and ladoo would take final shape.  I was often woken up in the night by the voice of my parents in the kitchen and would hear Dad who stayed by the side of Mom, helping her with the preparation. The man would fill the sweets inside a jar once the sweet took the round shapes. 

Of course, the festival of light became a real feast for days where I would sneak into the kitchen, far away from the glares of the parents to steal bundle of sweets, hiding them inside both pockets and waiting for the next opportunity to pop them inside the mouth.  Old habits are hard to chuck out. Just now, Mom was telling me how on every Diwali, Dad would diligently sit on a chair early in the day and carefully cutting the cotton thread into proper size and length, diligently arranging them inside the oiled earthen lamps, which are spread out on a huge thali ready to be lit.

The essence of the festival may have changed over time to become more global with the various whatsapp images sent to friends. True, it has made things easier.  To think that there was a time when the various mobile service providers offered packages ranging between 60 to 99 paisa per sms or calls in India to wish our friends Happy Diwali. What days it was! I would jump on the various schemes and change the phone numbers to land on the best offer for Diwali.

Scribbling messages and sending greetings to each person on our phone book list was quite a task but there was a simplicity within. I sorely miss the various killer taglines that bore the ingeniosity of marketers splashed all over the place be it TV or newspapers. Remember this one, Diwali Bumper Offer that clicked instantly.  It is sorely missing in today’s times of social media such as FB or Twitter.

The best Diwali was spent in Pune as a student and the place is so endearing that it becomes your home in no time. For sure, I have made Pune my home and long to being back there to start everything all over and no temptation on earth that can make me forget my city.  From the firecrackers to the favorite Gulab Jamun, shikhand, pherni and visit to the house of friends decked in colorful Kurta Pyjama, we would relish the true spirit of Diwali and mithai that made the moments priceless. I remember this friend of ours Pradip who couldn’t visit on Diwali that fell on a Sunday but he came one Monday bringing a huge dabba of Cadbury chocolate. He brought his guitar along and we all sang Goanese songs. Diwali is an ongoing love affair in India and I sorely miss the endearing celebration.

This time, I bought a variety of sweets, Ladoo, apple barfi and the famous Haldiram’s Soan papdi along with colorful candles imported from India. On her part, Mom got the Karanji's delicacy from the market.  I will arrange the mithai in colorful bags in a short while to be distributed to neighbors and friends after lighting the lamps at 6 p.m. Did I tell you that I bought a sticker Rangoli yesterday for 60 bucks and already pasted it in front of the door? I shopped for a nice pair of shirt and polo tee yesterday which is made my Diwali special.

As I look back, the whole spirit of the festival may have changed with more people now buying sweets from the market while in the distant past, every bit of sweet was religiously prepared at home. Mom almost finished making two varieties of sweets but no matter how things change, the emotions remain the same. I am sorely missing my college friends like anything and they are the souls with whom I spent the best times of togetherness during Diwali. The emotions are vivid and it feels like yesterday only. 

I have a silent wish and small prayer will do to make the forces conspire with each other so that the next Diwali is spent in India, settling back for nothing beats the emotion of celebrating in one’s own country and no matter where we are, this home feeling cannot be beaten by any force.

Make the most of the time for we become the light, respecting choices of each other be it tradition or food culture that makes us stand tall as Indians. We must strive to remove prejudices be it caste, class, religion, gender and share the happiness with the unfortunate children and socially deprived in an effort to brighten their lives.

Happy Diwali
Vishal 

Online Chating...online Mohabattein

Online chat...online mohabattein. Let's connect. The whole online chat has gone beyond party life, getting possessive over my G-chat where I still ping the close chums there or the Mirc chat relegated to the archive kinda grandpa era like the boringly drab poke business on Facebook. Who does that! Wanna bet! Of course, WhatsApp has made online chatting, be it yahoo-push the delete button here or G-chat irrelevant. How I hate saying it!

The random chats on Facebook and or the buried scrapping on Hi5 or Orkut and yahoo messenger is the tale of tickling boxes that hardly appealed to my senses.  I can count on the finger the number of times I've pinged someone on yahoo chat that faded away like the Diwali cracker ban. The romance spree and flirting online, sending sweet and naughty whispers are now wrapped in the memory trove.

Image credit: Google

Of course, chatting online has its share of evil and tickling sensation when we read about mediums like Facebook that can register private conversation in their database. It freaks me out when I think how those private conversations can be recorded and used against us. Okay! I have not really indulged in the evil sense but would abhor thinking about the intimate ping coming out in the open.

 The morning ping, silly forwards or conversation spree on WhatsApp is where the whole world has moved like migrating birds. Some random messages are met with a high-five to acknowledge or else this whole long conversation is not really friendly what with my fingers moving slowly. Fire your dirty mind, perverts! I mean typing where I get too slow and not finging around the phone. 

I did play around romantically with someone on WhatsApp when I discovered the recording button on the phone and she was way faster than me the time we decided to tap the get to know each other button. Naturally, the whole thing went kaput after a month or two of whatsapping, calling, flirting, exchanging dirty messages or singing to each other on the recorder. It was fun. We were in two different cities across the globe and it reached a saturation point where we stopped giving a fuck to each other. There were a certain fondness and vibes that could have wiped the entire planet with chocolate and candy floss feeling. Just fun and nothing more. I am sure she must be laughing over the whole thing when the thought struck her.  

Phone and social media have brought hearts closer but there is the danger of perverts lurking around when I read statuses of female friends on Facebook telling how some men have sent lewd messages or pictures.  Some people really need a reality check. Sadly, the healthy flirting get lost with vultures roaming around to give online flirting a bad name and being such a spoilsport. Sadly, the laws can get so complex on how to prove the case against vicious trolls or verbal sexual assault. Time for authorities to come clear on what the law says to nab perverts attacking women. There is a need for a healthy debate on the whole issue.

I am always in favor of healthy conversations between friends and would urge to flirt or converse with someone with whom you have a good understanding and don't blindly trust lecherous strangers or unscrupulous people who can steal personal information such as bank account or id. Sending a stranger one's personal picture is a strict no for one cannot know how it can be used against you.

Chat in good faith and make the whole experience healthy, fun and romantically endearing affair to remember over the years. Chatting and flirting goes beyond the romantic aspect for me and I made such good friends who shared their many little secrets, past relations, current one or about the guy they crushed on and yes rated scenes. The bottom line is: Trust in the online chat space to create the comfort level and the stories I am privy to makes for interesting stories to whip.  

With love
Vishal

It's the One

Fluttering branches,

eerie night,

dry branches,

moving an inch closer,

the shadow,

fading night seeping into darkness,

you are watched,

it's no spooky tale,

you thought it's the mystery,

racing inside the mind,

the gentle cloud has a story to tell,

stop and look around, 

steal glances at the stars,

the message,

don't ignore,

it's the one,

you may not live to unravel and retell,

the ghostly tale.

 

Human and nature's verses of bonding and bliss

In love we trust,

undying verses of the journey,

fraught with laughter, adventure and battles,

gentle touch of fingers,

longing and caressing each other,

electric waves escalating like a rush of storm,

 nature's own gentle way to remind us,

to converge our senses,

humans and nature,

conflict is toxic,

like our relations,

make a chain,

sky, trees, minds and bodies,

to weather all storms,

the brain is our weapon

ward off ailments,

release the emotions,

overcoming the odds,

rough weather is not for us,

breathing fresh air,

sky gazing at night

tiny stars,

ushering into heap of optimism,

dancing in the paddy field,

revelling in nature's own bliss,

snuggling among the roses,

trudging the cavernous hilly slopes,

a life time’s wish to beat the blues of life.

Love
V

Shifting balance of emotions and relationships

Dating and romance are no piece of cake. Relationships can get complex and is very fleeting in nature, as equation changes every single day or moment when we tend to fall in and out of love.  There are bonds that stay forever or for a very long time that it alters our mental and physical state in such a fashion triggering emotions or scars that stay permanently.

The last relationship that I was involved in took a huge a toll on my emotional well-being and years were spent to get out of it or flush every possible emotion from the system. I fought with myself and will argue, Can one remove every single trace after investing everything in this relationship? It seems like an emotional miasma of despair that spurts like liquid inside your physical body and running through the brain. It's been almost nine years and glad that I am out of it after a long battle with myself. I am not whining or shifting the blame. No! I cannot do that. Playing the blame game doesn't help for none of us are at fault for failing to nurture the plant.

Move on is an easy adjective to describe things that pan out. Fine! We learn to get up, nurse the wounds and take fresh steps again on our journey as we learn our lessons. Every relation, good or bad can teach us so much to empower and give strength.  I saw my relationship with Her as a blessing of sort. Why we cannot remove every single emotional trace?  

First, no matter what we do, say or behave, tiny bit of thoughts will crop up, owing to our imagination, memory of places we’ve been together, a song, film or conversations that keeps popping one after the other inside the head.

 It's not a question about love but the soul itself where the stamp of feeling wanted, emotional drains or disappointment are stuck like a rubber. Love does fly out of the window with time but perhaps we need to look inward to see why the footprint of the past relationships pervades through.
Answers are sought but difficult to find on what ticked or didn't. The best thing is to avoid the questions of 'whatever remained' or else we would never be able find closure or call it quits.  

Image credit: Google

We are all special and extraordinary folks capable of loving and getting so much back in return which is again not the best thing to do. At least, do not let the grief or emotional upheaval control the brain that can impede the human growth. The presence of a new person in life can push the delete button of the past love into oblivion. Debatable! Yes, for there are folks who have gone on a dating spree but still cannot come to terms for the traces of past love is like harmful sugar inside the body. I would argue that it depends on us if we are ready to move on and embrace life with a fresh perspective, ready to uncover the layer of dust in the new relationship.

Relationships do change over time for everyone. We are humans and cannot help thoughts stroking our mind and tit bit of conversations piercing the ears. The best thing is not to push away the feeling or words that made us laugh or smile in another time that has gone away. The past will never come back and don’t indulge in self-harm. There is a thin line between love and obsession, don't make it become one or else it was never pure emotions in the first place.

Love
Vishal