I AM

I am not a healer
But I can erase pain
I am not a builder
But I can create a home
I am not a tailor
But I can mend a broken heart
I am not a judge
But I can evaluate the right from the wrong
I am not a magician
But I can enchant tears with smiles
I am not Cupid
But I can make two hearts meet
I am not God
But I can promise trust and fulfill.
But then, I am, yes I am,
Certainly Human

SHE FLIES...

As the wind blows
A leaf breathes a dream
A dream to fly sky high
And take a dip in the stream.

A dream where it reaches a faraway land
And meets the red oak tree
A dream where it rides on a dancing cloud
And brushes through the sun kissed sand

A dream where it will fly
And go for a long day’s ride
Little does it know that the lightening will attack
To make it fall and finally die.

There will be hands to pick it and tear
There will be the thorns that cut they don’t care
There will be pain that she will endure
But the leaf says I will fly, I will for sure.

There will be bad and good and bad
There will be shocks & betrayal to make her sad.
But the leaf is pure and she doesn’t care
She knows her destiny will take her there.

Away from the fears of dust and storm
There is a land where happiness is born
Away she flies to that much awaited land
Where the leaf will smile and rest in his caring hand.

THAT EXTRA BIT...

Since last few days I had been laboring my grey cells time and again over one problem. It so happened that my boss (he is the best boss in the world) pointed out to me that that the difference between success and mediocre is the difference between a job and a career. He has this habit of saying things straight to the point. Well, he just did that. I walked out of his cabin that day a bit confused and unable to understand what exactly the hidden message was?

The days passed and I quite forgot about the conversation we had. There were of course more important things to do in my list. Like reminding the channel’s viewers that Counting day was close and my channel would be providing the best coverage, wondering about the next safest way to lose weight, learning a new international recipe, bitching about some people non stop and the list can go on. Random activities without any sheer goal, except the first one. Work is important and yes I was slogging hard. Then why had that line come to me from this man who was my icon today? I wondered, I pondered, and finally I forgot.

Today- the 8.40 am Churchgate local. My vehicle to work, my very active gym (thanks to the squeeze, in spite of the fact that I am a first class traveler), my one stop where I get to hear and learn all the Philmi ghaati gaalis and of course the hub of stories, real stories.
As the train passed Mahim junction, I began to get bored. Bored and tired of the scorching heat, the same old songs, the same faces, the same book cover (well, I haven’t read the book yet), even the same snap on my cell, although its just two days old. Suddenly out of the blue as I was looking for something interesting I saw a strange sight. There was a mother with her 8 year old daughter. Blind daughter. Then the following events occurred, one after the other.

The mother neatly unfolded a paper bag. Inside lay what we call Kanda bhajiyaas (Onion dumplings for the firangs). As her little daughter sat there, speechless, unaffected the mother slowly brought the bhajiyaas close to her mouth. The daughter tasted and gave a big smile. This was an approval and want for more. Her mother fed her the entire piece. Then what followed had the awe element. The mother cut the bhajiyaa into two and very carefully brought out the ingredients one by one to explain what flavor, smell, taste each provided by putting each next to her daughter’s nose and then in her mouth, one by one. Now the little blind girl finally knew what each ingredient was and identified them by their smell, even if she couldn’t see them. It would certainly help her someday, her mother knew. So she tried a bit extra hard to train her better for that day.

The train suddenly halted at Lower Parel and I realized that I had to get up to leave. I picked my bag, wore my scarf (to avoid the heat) and moved towards the door. As I was leaving I gave the mother daughter duo one final look. Both looked happy, one because she was trying one step up to teach, the other because she was trying one step up to learn.

I came to office and switched on my computer and thought about the entire episode once again. And finally I realize, it’s not about how much we do, but about how we run that extra length, make that extra effort. Maybe that’s what my boss meant that day when he spoke about the difference between success and mediocre.

Who else could teach me such a wonderful, important lesson of life better…than a mother?

WE CAN ONLY BE...

We live together…We shall die together…And its ok if we are not Lovers!!!
Those words rang in her ears once again.
They were together. Through their toddler days and finally the graduation years. Hinting the possibility of a secret relationship to the world and then quietly laughing about this trick they played. Friends, truly, sincerely- Just friends!
A day came when they were walking through a not so well lit road and she was about to get hit by a car when he just pulled her back and saved her. It looked more like a super hero on a rescue mission to save the heroine…but then he was always like that. She was convinced about it and happy in his shelter. Knowing fully well that love was taking place of friendship in his heart. But then, it was unsaid and lay untouched. But that particular day after saving her and taking relief that she was in one piece, without any wounds he gave her a moist eyed look and said- You know what… ‘We live together’. She didn’t know what to say in that tense, intense moment. So all she muttered was- ‘We shall die together.’ He looked deeper into her eyes and then finally gave a blank stare a wink and an unexpected reply- ‘Hey! And it’s ok if we are not lovers!’
She ran home. Angry, annoyed, confused, sad. Unable to understand why was it like that. The next 24 hours went brooding about that one single moment. Then finally she gave up and accepted that her first love story, if at all it was, had succumbed to time. And this was it.
They didn’t meet for many days after that. She saw him but hid away, though continued to look at him through the corner of her eyes, struggling to control the flutter in her heart that his presence still caused. From friendship…to almost love…to nowhere.
The next year brought wedding bells along. She looked like the princess of the world in her red outfit. The rites done, the blessings taken, her groom by her side, as she walked towards her car, there was a pat at her shoulder.
He stood there. Dressed in classic black, with a bouquet in his hand. Yes, he looked better than most in that room.
He said- ‘Hey beautiful! You will always be happy. I know that now. Do tell me if you need something.’
She unaffected by the people around returned saying- ‘You should know about what I want. Remember, we lived together.’ To that he reacted with a smile and words she knew well with an added question mark- ‘We shall die together?’ The satire in the way he said it made her laugh and reply- ‘Ya...and its ok…we are not lovers.’
Years passed. They weren’t living together anymore. Responsibilities pushed way into life and she forgot those words. Only one day when she was sending her daughter to school she heard about a badly injured major serving the Indian Army, lying dead in the hospital.
She recognized the name. The photograph. There was no one to claim his body. He didn’t have a family. Just a few belongings. He was a great soldier they said. Fighting till the last minute. The true hero Well, she knew, he always was one.
They didn’t find too many belongings. Just a diary. With his work schedules drawn. His rules written. His important things listed. His goals carved. Nothing of any importance to her. Except the last page where he had scribbled in red-
We hardly lived together
I know we won’t die together
Still…we are, we can only be Lovers!!!

WHY I DO???WHATEVER I DO.

I write because…it’s my bread and butter.
I sing so that…unwanted crowd stays away from me.
I analyze because…I like boasting about being the calculative kind.
I praise others because…I care for the flattering acts in return.
I smile often because…I don’t make sense of anything that my fellow speaker is trying to explain.
I reject a dress often because…I know I need to lose some pounds before I flaunt it.
I stay tight lipped because…I too do lose out on words.
I get angry because…I need some more pampering.
I nod with a smile at office because…in advertising the client is God and I cannot afford to tell him ‘Get yourself checked if you do not like that IDEA!!!’
I often don’t take calls because… You didn’t take my call a day back…and I want you to know how it feels.
I like shopping because…I go for it only after a drastic weight loss and the thought of getting easily into that halter dress without any pain, gives me the ultimate ego boost.
I still sometimes read Enid Blyton because …it’s easy and nice to think that the bad tempered doll finally learnt a lesson when the green eyed goblin punished her. The idea of Bad meets bad lifts your spirits somehow.
I call a girl a B-I-T-C-H because…she purely deserves to be called by that name.
I am mean because…I purely love showing my dark side too.
I am good because…that’s me mostly, truly and I like doing good…even overdoing it sometimes.
I am writing this note because…I have run out on ideas for the day.
You are reading this note because…you have a lot of time to spend on unnecessary rumblings…

Anyways that’s my note for the day…Thanks for your time. Now Run… and Earn!!!

AN UNTIMELY FOREVER...

The first dew of the dawn
The first pink of the morning sky
The first bud in between the greens
The first blink of a new born’s eye.

The last star that twinkles before light
The last echo of the bells in the church
The last waft of the fog before the air clears
The last whisper of the creatures of the night

There would have been many middle moments to encounter
There would be a thousand reasons to live
But she finally gave up and drank that potion
To finally poison those moments and …forever fall asleep.

I AM...

I am
The carrier of every body,
The savior of Life that’s Alive;
The messenger of the angels of Death,
The one that you share, spill, unify.

I am
The talk of ancestry,
The rage of youth;
The First flush of anger,
The last blush of Love.

I am
The element of war,
The bond of Peace;
The fill of the Holy Grail,
The wrath of Demonic deeds.


I am
The impure flow,
The chaste essential of sacred sacrifice;
The gush that runs in the branches of your skin,
The thin twigs in the white of your eyes.

I am
All you can take,
All you can give;
All you can share,
All you can conceive.

But then all I am
Is just another… DROP OF BLOOD!