If I ever need you...

“If I ever need you again, Will you be there for me"
These words were never spoken, she wished they were. She wished for so much more all the time. Her life was hanging in between a lot of Ifs and a handful of What Ifs. She was not this person, she gradually had train herself to be. She was 23, prettier than the average number of girls in the city. She was aware of the looks, the smile and the eyes. She was doing well, for herself but she was not satisfied. Lonely time she spent in an unkempt apartment, but the things in it had color. It was a conscious effort. The paintings, the curtains, the linens and even the books by her bed lamp. Desperate attempt to fill her room to fill her vacant life.
"Claire! Claire! Open the door, Are u crazy, what is wrong". The dark gloomy silence was suddenly filled with thumping noise at the door. It was loud. Loud enough for neighbors to come out and stare at, Jim. Jim was the only friend she had. It was Saturday afternoon and Claire was supposed to meet him for lunch. She did not. Actually, she could not. It was not her fault, she was feeling low and she had too many Vodka shots than usual with her colleagues last night. She was dreaming. After days, she was happy in her sleep. The commotion at the door outside woke her up! She was irritated. Jim always irritated her, his condescending "What are you doing with your life, Claire?" and the way he looked at her, the look was patronizing. She wondered why he was still around, after all these years of shouting at each other, all these years of hatred; he was still her only friend. They even tried working out a relationship for a month and a two but they always fell apart. Those spurts of relationship usually happened when Claire was in a difficult place and Jim was an easy rebound.
Swollen face, red eyed and with a heavy head she opened the door. She did not have energy for another confrontation. She smiled a forced one, hugged him and whispered "Good Morning Sweets! Come in". Jim was exhausted. He waited for her at her favorite Pizzeria for 2 Hours. There were thirty five missed calls and twenty messages on her phone lying carelessly under her bed on the silent mode. She had no idea, how angry he was and he had all intentions to make her suffer for his long wait.
She was fiddling with coffee mugs on the kitchen table. She was a mess to look at. Her hair was dirty; she was still wearing her formal white shirt stained with food and her grey office skirt. The Kajal was smeared around her eyes and she had awfully dried lips. Jim could see on her, a rash night out and insane behavior all along. He suddenly forgot about the wait. He was angry at her. Not because she did not turn up but again she broke her promise of not drinking excessively. He thought, what is wrong with this girl! Her room, big spacious and expensive needed cleaning. She is such a pretty girl, but look at her! She is not even desirable now.
"Jim, u care to pass me that coffee mug" She was nonchalant. She always is oblivious to her mistakes. Why can't she be sensible and take hold of her life. Jim, used always think about her. During his presentations at work, when he was making those slides the night before, when he is on call, in a cafe, at a party, while shopping. She was always there with her, in his texts, on the call and now a days on his BBM. He hated Blackberry, his idea of communication was always meeting people and now all of these people were virtually available, physically not present. She forced her to buy one, and so he did.
"So at what time did u come back, n why was your phone not reachable all night", Jim wanted no stories this time.
"Oh! U called, Why do I always miss it? We were at Vacation Cafe, the new one? Did you check it out? I am sure you will like it, It has the feel of that Bar we visited in Dharamshala last year! Remember.. Wow! I so miss the place, Let us plan something for the extended weekend. I so need a break from this place" she tried hard to change the topic.
Jim knew her well enough to see what she was trying. "So, how much did u drink? Who dropped you home? You know I was awake all night trying to get through you! I called Natasha from your work, and she told me there was no party. So what it was? Where were you REALLY?!"
"Oh! Wow! So you again played the Sherlock Holmes trick? Listen stop calling people from my workplace, they think you are my boyfriend. And anyway I did send you a message. You replied as well, now why you have to act like a freak all the time, what is wrong with you?" She could not control her temper this time. She did not deserve it after all. She did have fun last night, and she is not going to explain it to him like always.
This was their usual weekend start. Jim and Claire knew it too well what it is going to be like. Both were fed up, and did not have any quantum of energy left to go through the ordeal again. Jim picked his jacket and walked out. Claire did not stop him. She quietly picked her coffee mug and switched on her laptop. There were crazy party pictures all over her page, and she did not like the fact that she looked so drunk in all of them! She sighed, and started to look around for her phone. After ten minutes of frantic search she found it under her bed, it was dead. When she finally switched it on, she realized Jim was really awake all night calling and messaging her every fifteen minutes. She felt bad for him. Why he always act like this? Why cannot he give her the space she needed. After all he is not even seeing her anymore. She was angry, angry at herself, at Jim and at those text messages she did not even want to read.
She quickly changed her clothes, tied her hair in a bun and went out for some fresh air. She wanted to clear her head, she wanted to call Jim and apologize. But for what? She wanted to feel good, and there she was all alone, walking aimlessly and very restless. She walked into a Bistro, and ordered herself her usual. Across the table, there was a young couple sharing a plate of pasta. They looked happy, and she was perplexed. How do these people manage to be like that! She started to miss Jim now. He was after all the only person she can always talk to. She should call him and should apologize. He was worried for her, and she was reckless. She dialed her number but he did not answer. She tried again and he hung up. She was furious and then someone called, "Ass, Look around!"
Jim walked out of the apartment, and lit a cigarette. He was fuming and he knew he should not bang his hand against the wall. The last time he did that he had fractured his hand. He knew to be more logical this time. He took a couple of quick drags and closed his eyes to calm himself. He decided to take the stairs and walk around. He did not want to react the way he did. He wanted them to talk, sort her little problems and straighten out her life. He wanted to take care of her. He for sure, did not want to stand outside her apartment in this mood on a Saturday afternoon. He suddenly wanted to hug her and how he wished for that cup of coffee she made for him, lying on the kitchen table inside. He then saw Claire walking down towards the market. She had changed her clothes. A white tee shirt from the last gig they attended and her worn out jeans. She was beautiful, and he quietly followed her.
He saw her walking towards the Bistro. He knew what she was about to order. Her usual-Cheese omelette and plateful of fried sausages. He saw her intensely staring at a couple on the table by her side. He was looking at her, her black big eyes. They had tears in them. And then he saw her calling him. How can he take that Call. He was welled up with emotions, for he knew her too well to know what she was thinking exactly. He can read her expressions, know her thought and right now they were, "If I ever need you again, Will you be there for me" She called him again and this time he called out to her, "Ass, Look Around!" This was always their regular weekends.

The Theory of Centroid

Full Credits to my promised-I-Hope not, ever to BE for planting the idea in my head.

The seed rested well, germinated and is ready to sprout. It is called The Theory of Centroid. The Center of Mass lies there, the Point "G" for an A (Chubby and White) for a B (Skinny and Dimpled) and for a C (Skinny and Sarcastic). A,B,C and G are real people, unreal complications with unsaid but known secrets! For I know, how cryptic I can get and how I try not to simplify, they are Friends. I wonder what happened to age old concept of the Circle and the Trust. But knowing how extraordinary lives we live, the Circle of Trust never fits in, Nor can we.

Point "G" (One Dimensional Thinking, shall I excuse you!) is the one that connects them all. Like a Data Center it holds all our "Takes" on People and their Lives. It knows where is the problem and Who is the solution (OH YES! there is always a Who as a solution to a What!) . It exactly knows the reason for a sarcastic comment or an all Black attire. It communicates, it connects, it is actually the center that holds A, B and C together. For all we can wonder, how equidistant are they, or how equally distant they will be without Point "G". They know the little details at A's workplace, the Little-Black Dress B bought and the Party C crashed, all the information stored secured in G's ever filling disk space. If G crashes or is influenced by a Virus ( Point "G" is gullible ) and decides to wander, the triangle will stay but empty in the core.

I lament the fact, that Circle of Trust did not exist. It used to be clearer in the Theory of Circle, either you are in or out. There was nothing left to doubt and assumptions. Here, even if the Centroid shifts, the balance is disturbed. Disturbance felt, tremors recorded, things displaced and slowly one waits for the balance to be restored. Just Imagine, the situation where the Point "G", decides to take a stroll and never returns! So as long as the walk and think for the Point "G" is not long, A B and C, can wait. Imagine the chaos when they start talking directly! How much can we know?!!!

"Time Out"

I was almost living a life oblivious to the concept of Time Out. Time Out, it sure made me ponder, so much so that when "MY Love" ( I guess it is still appropriate to irk when you are "timing out" ) decided to take it, I was almost supportive. But there is a flip side. Or there are just some Nasty ones, temporarily residing on the east bank of River Hooghly (Please get the drift) who will need a reason to understand the concept, interesting as it is. The same creature who used to be the center of all the prattle and blabber, needs a "Oh what went wrong" Story. They will create one if they don't have one. So there goes a thing you need to handle, when you finally decide to emerge out of your "Time Out" Snail Shell. Either you give answers or you withdraw again in that shell you used while hibernating. Is Time Out, a seasonal phase. Can be? A winter one perhaps. Winter, especially post 31st December, often makes you feel, I can be the Change I want to be! And there goes the series of Resolutions (I will quit smoking, YEAH RIGHT!!) and a single time out.
What do you exactly do during Time Outs. The thing for sure is, you do not communicate. That will be so difficult and withdrawn (Unlike most of us) ! Anyway, We saw your updates, WAIT constant updates. Lets simplify. So you do not communicate with the people you have already communicated about your Time OUT! And peculiar it is, but you think. Think about what now? No Clue. Be like the Solitary Reaper. Big Thoughts, or no thoughts. All is granted with a smile, and patience for there will be a broadcast again, that I am out of TIME OUT! Meaningless, Aimless so it was.
If Time Out really is a time to retrospect, there is a place for that. We call those the "scenic beauties". Brood to glory, out of your Network, Silence and I. As long as you cannot take those, because of certain leave crunch at your workplace, or otherwise, the fake and small ones won't work for you Darling, or anyone.

Enough said! I shall "TIME OUT" now.
( For the nasty one on the bank of Hooghly: There is no story! ) :P

Cheers, Ladies!!

Boyfriends are like wine. They take a long time to mature. But by the time, they have attained that maturity and always wanted and wished flavour, one of us will decide to move on. Then sitting by a coffee house, with a lonely cup of Irish coffee, one will wonder that why your ex- boyfriend dating your best friend's friend is so much into her and why you were a dirty green old couch for him then! The process of vinification starts from choosing the right grapes till bottling the finest wine and placing a cork. This placing of cork, is a metaphor (for if it was not clear to not so deep readers) pointing to the "I want my useless non-productive independence" and "I cannot live my ordinary good for nothing life with him" part! The part where you walked out on him banging the door with a thud, the thud that was a prelude to wet tissues, lot of surfing and not visiting a parlour phase!
A sparkling glass of wine is rarely enjoyed by people working in a vineyard! Ignoring the few indulgent instances it is always and meant to be "for sale". Whatever you have gone through, in turning that sour non-exquisite grape into red toxic liquid was never meant for your kitchen or your dinner table. So, those of you enjoying your wine- smelling him, nosing him, drinking him- should be grateful to that wretched-may be lonely next door girl, who used her expertise in transforming him! For all you know, your hard work is stacked in some other cabinet far far away from you and your place.
The question which often deludes me is what happens to the empty bottles! These men oops the wine bottles are then fit for one kind of market- the matrimony market! Show me a wine which went to a collector's cabinet without enjoying its fame in the market! None for that matter, for the title is redeemed only after much tasting testing and refining!
The time is to check your behaviour- the one of a buyer or the one of a maker. Because if you want to make him you will lose him and if you want to enjoy him you will keep him till his matrimony date (read expiration date). Laughing out loudly, for all the queer breed who believe in one wine bottle for life, are sure missing on some happiness (read tipsiness) and are doomed to be deprived. How selfish can you be, brewing that exquisite brand and drinking it all by yourself!

(Disclaimer: Not applicable to my wine bottle- Hypocrisy!)

Scroll and Ink

Scroll and ink on a floating grey blimp,
Looking outside, in sky so bluish pink,
A cup of tea, and plans to be made,
Happy smiles, Memoirs slightly fade,
A lecture and presentation lined up next,
Midnight lamp focused on academic crest,
A professor, intentionally acting dense,
No one around, emotions behind a fence!
A false hearing, and attendance troubles,
Someone petite, nervous reading fumbles,
And a day is long, for laptops always live on,
Nights when all work, Mornings drowns in snores!
All the schedules and efforts to readjust now,
It’s a lazy place, a lazy life so much in frown,
The bid to enter something brilliant anew!
All stands alone, for there are happy few.

The Week

The week that went by was a mixed bag, and not only of emotions and experiences but people, their reaction, celebrations and places. How static one can feel (No public transport) and how quick one can travel (the metro) is all roped into a day. With a night where you have a minimum of two blankets wrapped till your head and still shivering to a night where the Delhi’s heat was never made more evident! To an instance when you were made to feel correct about your selection of entering technology driven telecom sector to a friendly assignment where your taste and creativity made someone happy. The week was also the lab where the range of my character was tested. From a sheer act of kindness and compassion which made my wardrobe as inviting as possible to a quick abandonment on the pretense of a busy or made busy time restricted schedule! How a person can irritate and make you feel sorry about your state to how that same person can make you feel special! To a talkative and cheerful girl next door to an all serious do not disturb corporate snob. And it is not about emotional hues which I could analyze now, but how health can reward and penalize in a week’s time. From a night where you were awake and not cribbing because it was someone’s birthday to a night where you cannot sleep because of an addiction to a television series. Still living in the moment when I chose someone close over my friends (read CP) and then reminded of an incident when I chose my friends over someone related. This week also saw a “Good Morning” with a smiley from a long forgotten friend to a surprise phone call to make a plan and meet! A week where I had the most delicious lunch in most stringent condition to a dinner in best of the places but still nothing great! To a week of waiting and calling and finally been rewarded by a project which will add brownie points to my professional resume. From a chit-chat at lunch with an acquaintance who is now a permanent member of my friend’s list to a week where a sweet new girl reminds me of my kiddo sister. The week of appreciation and sour criticism where my poems where called trashy and fake attempts and then later endorsed in public! The week where I planned to shop till I drop but when actually in the mall shopped for someone else! The week which looks ages ago but still technically ended yesterday for me! Monday Blues always tagging the beginning.

Corporate ain't radical !

For the people starting another day,
Paths shiny treading on a gold way,
Sunglasses and clatter of those heels,
Mind so confused analyzing the deal,
Shiny shoes and a matching mauve tie,
Chicken breast and an ordered minced pie!
Purse Strings lose and lenses green in want,
Corporate towers and silent alleys haunt!
A flight due to a forlorn lonely place,
Child left behind, but still in haste!
Attrition and Life Cycles walk the talk,
People being killed, no time shall dock,
Pink Papers and Pink Slips in hand,
Long gone is the time, for a rock band,
Blackberry is new and so is the dress,
Tear no concern but fear the bad press,
House is tall and lanky and up state,
Money is the treasure, life on a bait!
AC Conference halls and aesthetic lobbies,
No time to stare or even ponder over a hobby,
And time flies before you will get promoted,
Filling the shelves with things unaccounted,
Things will stay and people shall fare,
Coughing alone, and no one to even care,
Then you will finally stop and stare around,
To a house full of antiques, paintings of hound!
You will curse and blame this sabbatical,
Still believing that corporate ain't radical... ! :(