Memories of Park Lane

There was the distinct sound of city traffic streaming through the connection. The one word responses from the other end did not lose their purpose, to which, I promptly asked if I was being a ‘bore’ factor. A monosyllabic “hmmm” resonated into my ears through the handset. This “non word” will probably be etched in my memory as the longest and deepest anti response to a gesture that I seek the most, companionship. With reference to the context, long paragraphs could be written up to dissect the contents of the “hmmm’. The reluctance to acknowledge it as a response was probably why the utterance made its impact a few minutes after the call had been disconnected.

In attempting to trace a precedent, I could only think of a very recent overnight sleepless train ride. What that had achieved, was of course a few hours where we met and spoke, amongst several others. The hurried trip to the Van Heusen outlet at the up market Park Lane gratified my overpowering desire to do the best for the central character of the occasion (or maybe for the central character and for the occasion). I say “central character”, because no other factor justifies my presence in another city about 500 Kms from home that day.

We engaged 4 natural pairs of eyes, (not counting the plastic/glass prosthetics that were on two of those pairs) in addition to mobile camera technology. There was no excuse for faltering on this project. There was satisfaction while exiting the store that the purchase will live up to its purpose. After dropping off the happy package where it belonged the rest of the day was spent in relative oblivion.

It was late evening when we arrived at the venue. On first glance I realized what had seemed like a consensus in the afternoon was probably disguised compromise. The absence of the “common choice” apparel did not diminish the wearers appeal. Nevertheless, I dug deeper into myself and wanted to know, whether it was our lack of fashion sense, versus my singular and overpowering emotions about always wanting the best for a certain someone that had ironically made an alternate choice of apparel more appealing?

Our enquiring glances did get something of an honest-modest, though technically a non-response. At that point unwilling to process any more thoughts, my mind went into a standby mode. When I logged back in there sometime later during that long day, I found myself attempting to build a new relationship model. The dialog box that had opened up read:

“Your attempt to gratify a loved one has been fatally aborted. The system has identified that there can be two possible causes to this: 1) Your affection knows no bounds and so you don’t know where to stop 2) You try too hard
If you want to erase this and all related files from the registry permanently please click Cancel. If you wish to continue, please shed a few tears and then click OK. You will be prompted to add a few *.inhibition files. Please choose the “install” option when the dialog box appears”

No prizes for guessing what option I chose. The most loathsome of the inhibitions I have added is the one that has made me disenchanted of initiating a conversation or participating in it. I fear that another “hmmm” will irretrievably damage the sense of belonging I so cherish now. While I wallow in my miseries, my logical being is reprimanding me for being too emotional. What tears me apart is the irony of the matter, in that, my emotional side is questioning the logic of the monosyllabic “hmmm”.

I now consciously fear the expressions and manifestations of the ever growing affection I have for this individual. I feel sorry that the choice of the clothes did not keep up the pride with which they were selected.. and sorrier still that I am being a bore. It feels like I have inflicted myself on your persona, and I only now have realized you deserve better.. much better. As far as I can help it, you will surely get it.

The musical called life

A predicament? or was it simply life running its normal course? A situational analysis led to more questions that I did not want to handle. While I was seeking answers I could hear the old grandmother clock strike twice. It was either the chime or the wetness of my tears streaming down my face and moistening the pillow that was the external force altering my state of inertia. It was neither a reverie nor a trance, just deep moving thoughts that refused to leave my bedside now for days on end. They were stuck there because I did not want to answer them. Answering them meant acknowledging uncomfortable incidents. Those incidents which brought up heart wrenching questions.

Dear life, it is not that I am upset with you .. but you have me perplexed though
I find myself in a dilemma, and it is the innocence of your questions that make it so

तुझ से नाराज़ नहीं जिंदगी, हैरान हूँ मै

तेरे मासूम सवालों से परेशान हूँ मैं

It never occurred to me that life will also have its share of sorrow
Every smile that escapes the lips extracts a price, like a loan that has to be repaid morrow
Each time I smile now, my lips carry the burden of the happiness that life lets me to occasionally borrow

जीने के लिए, सोचा ही नहीं दर्द संभालने होंगे

मुस्कुराए तो, मुस्कुरानेके दर्द संभालने होंगे

मुस्कुराऊँ कभी, तो लगता हैं, जैसे होठों पे क़र्ज़ रखा हैं

A lesson about relationships was learnt when life’s miseries did not seem to cease
When I eventually found it, it was in the scorching heat that I found, the serenity of a cool breeze

जिंदगी तेरे, गम ने हमें रिश्ते नए समझाएं

मिले जो हमें, धुप में मिले छाओं के ठंडे साए

The tears that have welled up in my eyes today will shed away as droplets eventually
Their welling up at another tomorrow remains a mystery. A mystery because the one little droplet that I had stowed away safely, is somewhere and somehow lost, and has vanished eternally

आज अगर, भर आई हैं, बूँदें बरस जायेंगी

कल क्या पता, इन के लिए, आँखें तरस जायेंगी

जाने कब गुम्म हुआ, कहाँ खोया, एक आंसू छुपा के रखा था

This post has a few sequels... I did not do one consolidate post for the fear that it would read like the script of a Bengali movie..