HOW DARE YOU FORGET?

We all have bad episodes in our lives. People, incidents, days that we want to put behind us and never remember, right? And while you may occasionally forget your good friends birthday, each year that bad memory will pop up in your mind without fail.

My luck loves to mock me ruthlessly. So the year I think I have overcome an evil, there is always that friend, the one who has seen you suffering and supported you throughout the ordeal, in all his/her naivety question you about it.

Friend: That incident, it's today. I hope you have forgotten it.

Me: I don't care any more.

Friend: Good girl. Because you know it's about time you overcame it. It doesn't hurt you right?

Me: Let's not talk about it.

Friend: Why?

And then I get a whole lecture about the memory. Every tiny detail, every tiny folly rubbed on my face with little care to the excruciating pain I am going through. But hey, that's what friends do. They help you become stronger!

*Is story ke sab patr imaginary hai. Any similarity to anyone is highly regretted. Not.

WHEN LI MET RISH - THE RUNAWAY GIRL

"Hi."

"Hi."

"You are Liza, right?"

"Yes."

"I am Rishabh. But you can call me whatever you want."

"OK, Whatever You Want."

"Funny girl! You don't talk much, do you?"

"Not while eating, no!"

"No, really! I have been observing you for the past few days. You don't mingle with anyone from office."

"And to what may I owe your attention and stalking skills?"

"It is part of my job as an HR intern."

"I am pretty sure that's not what HR does."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"OK, listen. I have to get back to researching a piece for one of the writers. I hope you enjoy your meal.”

"Sure. What are you researching about?"

"How to avoid a nosy colleague."

Fake laughter from my side, while I guess his was real.

"I am pretty sure that's not what you have to research about."

"Maybe, maybe not."

I got up to leave.

"You fascinate me very very much, Miss Baker."

"The feeling is mutual, dear Sir."

I took a bow and left. And that is how we met. He did admit to me much later that he was very nervous talking to me. But I can swear on the sacred sun, he didn’t appear as such. He was cheeky, nosy and appeared over-confident. Honestly, I had already put him on my dislike list. 

I WISH YOU WOULD HAVE STAYED

It's Saturday night. While doing my quarterly cleaning in the morning, I had stumbled upon a photo album of mine from my school days. As I flipped through the pages, I recalled a conversation that I had had with a friend, who was elder and wiser to me then. Marvelling at my friend circle, he had said, "Li, enjoy these friendships while they last". I had cursed him then, and I do even today. I should have paid more attention to his words.

It was the the early 2000s. Those were the pre-social media days when my not-so-smart mobile was only used for calling or messaging. Often, my mom had to drag me to sit and eat food because I was on my phone talking to my bestie. I wish I could get back those simpler times when a friend wasn't busy to talk, chat or act goofy with you.

Because as much as I tried, one by one they left. Some got married, while some changed. Hell, I evolved too. I made new friends, at college, work, gym, at random places. And each time I learned, friends leave. Even the oldest ones. And while your heart breaks each time, some more than others, the wise thing is to let them go, with a smile.

The only regret I have is I never told them how much they meant to me at the peak of our friendship. If only I could go back and tell them, give a hug, maybe they would still be around. Just maybe.

I don't know. Today, as I look through my album, and the people that don't exist in my life I wonder whether I could have done something to make them stay. A few at least. Because in this fast-paced, technology-driven lives that we live, with 700 facebook friends, I still feel all alone. I miss Sam's contagious laughter, Vaishu's cooking tips, Steve's reassurances and Bubble's comforting embraces. And what I would give anything to get them back. If only.

WHAT TO REPLY WHEN SOMEONE SAYS THEY ARE SAD

I hate the way love is portrayed in movies. Not all, but most of them. It's like a fight between romanticism and realism and I would like to blame the former for adding unrealistic and fancy expectations on the big shoulders of love.

I can go on and on about it. But let me give you one example and maybe follow it up later with more posts.

This is a conversation between me and a guy who is trying to pursue me.

Him: Hi
Me: Hi
Him: What happened to your whatsapp profile pic, why is it so sad?
(The image you see in this post is my current profile. It's the one I often put when I am in a bad mood. Most friends know not to message me when I put the image. It's my DND)
Me: Because that is how I feel.
Him: Awhhhh. I am feeling so bad for you. Don't be sad. You being sad makes me sad too.
Me:
I don't reply for the next few minutes after seeing the message.
What I want to message him is this.
'Why the hell are you sad? I mean it's my right to feel whatever I want and sadness is as much a part of our lives as is happiness. So chill.'

I didn't send that message to him thankfully. As you can see, he wouldn't get it. He would think I am just another girl going through PMS or something like that. It would be difficult to make him understand and lead to a fight. I don't like unnecessary and wasted fights. So this is what I finally messaged.

Me: Hey. While I appreciate your concern, rest assured my sadness has nothing to do with you. It is a phase that I dwell in sometimes and will let you know when I feel better.
Him: OK

Thank heavens he didn't say anything more. See this is where romanticism kills everything. Me in a sad mood is my prerogative.  It may or may not be something to do with my partner. Romanticism says if he loves you he will understand you. That is why I am supposed to not say a word and let him scratch his head to decipher why I am sad. Because just telling him would be too realistic and maybe that is not love.

This is how I would react if someone said they were sad.
Me: It's OK to feel sad. Is there anything I can do to help?

It's practical. Maybe the person may not tell me then and there what their problem is, but the least they will know is there is someone out there to help them. All they have to do is ask.

It's not perfect and I change my answers depending on each case. But I am learning to be a realist in a world that is full of romantics. There are times when I have to remind myself why I switched sides. See I am doing it even now. But believe me it's far less painful than being a romantic in the Bollywood/Hollywood sense.

AAJ JAANE KI ZID NA KARO - A SHORT STORY

I often see reruns of movies that I like. Tonight I had been watching scenes that had friendship as an important theme in unrequited love. Once I was done, I looked at the time. 12 am. I dialled Robin's number. He was the Alizeh to my Ayaan.

“Hey,” he uttered.

Oh, his voice! It made my heart melt each time he spoke. I reply with a hey myself.

“Everything Ok with you?” he inquired.

“I just wanted to hear your voice. It’s been days, since we last spoke,” I answer honestly.

“Oh good. But you are alright, na?” he questioned again.

“Yes, I am fine. Are you busy or can you talk?” I asked.

“Actually, I was just about to sleep. Can I call you tomorrow?” he replied.

I know he will falter. The number of hours and days I had waited for him to keep his promises.

“Mujhe tumhare baato pe aitbaar nahin hai,” I said.

He has always had a way with words. His poetry on occasions had made me swoon. But my bluntness left him speechless. You need to know the whole context of our lives to understand him, me and our friendship.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” he finally stated.

“Ha-ha. You don’t have an answer to that?” I challenged him, just to keep the conversation going.

“I do. Just give me a moment,” he responded.

I wait. Then he finally said, “Hmm… I give up. Can’t think of anything to say right now”.

“Let me help you,” I propose. I was clueless about what I wanted to say next. But I let my heart guide me.

“Mujhpe tujhe aitbaar na raha,

Iska mujhe koi gum nahi,

Gila sirf is baat ka hai,

Ke tere bharose ka muhje koi khayal na raha”

I was just jabbing. I screwed up as I could feel the coldness from the other side. It got broken by the clear sound of his hearty laughter a few seconds later.

“Listen, just go to sleep,” I say, a little embarrassed.

“Goodnight and I will call you tomorrow”.

“Good night,” I signed off and cut the call.

Softly I sang a song, “Aaj jaane ki zid na karo”.

OF LIVING

As I looked at her with her head bent awkwardly and resting on her legs, I imagined how uncomfortable it would be to sleep in such a manner on your seat. We were all travelling in a local train. She with her group and me without mine. On her shoulder rested a motherly arm of one of her elderly gang members. She was young, more than me. But while we have age on our side, it's the exhaustion of expectations that weighs us down. Of living unto our full potential. But what if you don't know what that is or how to get it.

I know people say life is this and life is that. But I think the sole purpose of life is to find who you are in this life, while you are still alive, breathing.

TILL WHERE ARE YOU GOING? - A LOVE STORY

Rushali had a window seat and was waiting for the train to start. Being a starting station, usually the train waited a good 10 minutes, filled up and then left. On most days she started reading her kindle or some article as soon as she got a seat, on certain days she took a nap as the journey was a good hour long.

But today was different. She was contemplating the futility of her job, the travel, the hours spent all while looking at people rushing towards her train to get in.

Her chain of thoughts was broken when a smartly dressed guy asked her, "Till Where is this train going?"

"What?"

"Miss, what's the last stop on this train?" the stranger repeated his question while standing on the outer side of the window.

"It's Churchtown. Fast. And you better get in or you won't get a place," she told him.

"Thank you," he said and walked passed her window to the gents compartment.

The next day she was looking out of the train window thinking about the interaction, when she spotted the same guy again. He slowly walked passed her window and looking at her gave her a smile.

The third day she looked out of the train again for him and this time for the second time as he walked past her window he gave her a smile. This continued for a week. He smiled each time and she kept staring. Not once did he give up though.Then he disappeared for two days and Rushali realised that the high point to her travel the past week was this acknowledgement by the stranger. So when she saw him again, as he passed by her window, she slowly waved her hand at him in a hello. The following day, he waved back and this continued for a few days.

Damn Rush, what are you thinking? Where is this going? What's wrong with you? He could be a psycho. You are a psycho.

All kinds of thoughts started running through her mind.

Should I approach him? What if he is married? He is so cute. I have to stop this.

So she changed her compartment. But she missed him more than usual. In love's absence the heart grows fonder. A week later, as she sat next to the window again in her new place, she immediately closed her eyes and started repeating to her self.

He was just a phase. All is well.
He was just a phase. All is well.
He was just a phase. All is well.

"Till where are you going?" she heard someone ask.

Rushali knew the voice. She opened her eyes to look out of her window to see the same stranger, smiling.

"Till the end," she said as a tear rolled down her cheeks.

"Me too," he said smiling again and continued, "will you wait for me at the station or disappear again?"

"Rushali," she said keeping her palm flat on the wire mesh in the window.

"Uday," he said placing his palm onto hers.