My Crushes - Episode II

During one of those late night discussions at hostel, I was asked to list all my crushes. And believe me, it was really difficult. Starting from school teachers to perfect strangers, the list is seemingly endless. I have always believed in crushes more than in love. Love was like that unexplored territory which I was always afraid to go into. A crush was friendlier. It never demanded anything. I have always enjoyed my crushes. The times when I am thrilled, excited, frightened and passionate at the same time.  So, this is the second in the series of My Crushes.

 

I was at home enjoying??  the vacations. Each week had seven weekends and I was bored as hell. I joined a guitar class and also convinced one of my friends to join it. It was like crash course in 2 months of my vacation .

 

The class began every  morning at 8 and I was never late. The first time I was late, I saw a black pair of sandals at the footstep. As  a reflex, I straightened my hair, looked in the rear view mirror of the bike and went inside. Sitting there was the most cute girl I had ever seen. Believe me, you could never associate beautiful or sexy with her. She was just cute. No wonder her friends at school called her Angel.( I learnt this later) We just smiled at each other that day. It was just a friendly smile but I kept remembering it again and again. I practised very hard that night to impress her the next day. The creature that I was, I kept thinking of the perfect introduction line all night. For two days, I didn’t say anything. The third day, she asked me to play a note for her. I was a little nervous but I think I did all right. We began talking after that. She always talked like a li’l girl and I had always hated that. But there was no hint of fakeness in her tone. It was just plain innocence.

 

 Most of the times, our teacher would give us a song and go somewhere. The three of us used to have discussions on almost everything during these recesses. We used to have arguments on topics starting from “Vegetarianism”  to “Gayism”. She was a staunch supporter of  No-meat campaigns and I clearly remember she almost cried out in one of the discussions. Those classes were really the most interesting classes I ever attended. I found that she used to blog too. And good ones at that. I will soon post a poem by her.

Most of my friends never understand the fact that she was just 15 when I had a crush on her.Like age decided everything. They never understand that love is not always wanting. They never understand why I could have attended that class forever even if my fingers hurt like hell from all the strumming, why I would wait everyday at the gate just to walk beside her to the class, why I would look at her beautiful but clumsy fingers on the strings all throughout the class and why I would stare nervously at her only to look down when she saw me. Some things are better experienced.

 

 Some days before leaving, I wrote her an e-mail saying that I had a crush on her. Sometimes my friends ask me why do I always have to tell the girl. Well I have always believed that it hurts more saying nothing, wishing you had, than saying something, wishing you hadn’t. We exchanged mails for some days after that. And when I came back to the college and didn’t see her anymore for many days over, the feelings slowly faded. The mails stopped. I didn’t ask for her cell number. I will meet her someday, maybe in a few days, maybe in a few years. The day I meet her, will I be able to recognise her, will this old crush again rekindle itself, will she be as cute as she was the last time I saw her. But for now, I am free of these thoughts. That’s the magic of a crush. It never comes with a burden like love.

 

If someone asks me what I love most about a crush, I would say its the memories. The memories of love are often bitter, often painful. But the memories of a crush are always endearing. A crush comes in your life like a sweet flower, filling your life with all the fragrance and then it fades away, leaving a memory as sweet. Its like that wilted rose, which has been kept in an obscure book for so long that now it would crumple on touching or that yellowing love letter, kept carefully somewhere to always remind you that someone, at some point of time liked you more than anything else.

The Time of my Life

I know I have been absent from my blog since a long time, but then I think I have a good enough reason for it. Campus placements were going on in our college and I have been seleceted in a couple of companies, Accenture and IOCL. What I felt when I got my first job is worth a separate post. Though it has been a long time since then, I never got time to write.

I had always wanted to do an MBA right after college. But somehow, that plan seems to be fading now. I would now like to enjoy my job for a couple of years, and then do my MBA from a good institute. Its strange how life takes us in with all its twists and turns.

I smile as I hear these lines from "Time of your life" by Greenday,

Its something unpredictable
But in the end, its right
I hope you had the time of your life.

I nod and say "I did".

Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na

Finally, I got to see Jaane Tu... Verdict - Predictable yet enjoyable.

I was a big fan of its music since its launch( will come back to it later) and had waited to see this movie for a long time. Yesterday, I got the time. And I must say that I was a little( yeah a little) dissapointed.

Right from the start, where the freinds are narrating the story to another girl waiting at the airport (Chalte Chalte ?), the movie was quite predictable and seemed a mix and match of all bollywood formulas. Theres the poor guy - rich girl story, theres the friendship-or-love theory, theres "duniya ke sabse cool parents", theres the typical oh-he-is-so-bad villian who slaps the heroine, theres slapstick humor provided by two deranged souls, theres over the top melodrama in the end with the hero riding a horse to the airport and policemen falling over each other. In the hands of a bad director, I am thinking what a mess this film could have been. Probably, even the director realises this and therefore he gives away the story in the middle. You know Jai'll beat the bad guy, you know he will go to jail, you know he will then ride a horse to the airport and you know there's gonna be a happy ending. You just wait for that to happen.

Having said that, the movie was never boring. Yeah, it dragged a bit in the second half but full marks to the director for the awesome presentation. All the actors were brilliant and did their part with ease. Imran plays the role of a simple, friendly guy and no doubt most of the girls find him cuteeee( though one of my friend finds him gay :O) Genelia looks as lovely as one can be and I wish she was given more credit for the film, all of which is being taken by the new Khan. The friends seemed believable and the chemistry between them was nice. I specially liked the guitar strumming girl with her punk looks. Bombs, she was called. Lol! Aditi's brother was great as an estranged friend. Meghna was okayish with her escaping-reality theory. Nasserudin Shah and Paresh Rawal were funny. Though the Sohail- Arbaaz stunt was a nice one, but I think it was dragged a bit. There was always subtle comedy( Coca Cola on the rocks Lol!), dialouges were nice, backgorund music was awesome and the songs were out of the world. Overall, though predictable, you will definitely enjoy it. There have been duds in the name of musical romantic comedies in Blooywood and this one seems to be one of the best of its genres.

Sound Track

If you havent heard all the songs of Jaane Tu..., go now, beg, borrow, steal, kill, shoot, do anything but get the CD. Never since Dil Chahta Hai have I found a film where all the songs compete with one another for the top spot. My love for "Kabhi Kabhi Aditi" is already known. "Pappu cant dance saala" is already a chartbuster. "Nazrein Milana" is another nice and peppy track. I am sure you will be humming it after a few hearings. Then there are two versions of "Jaane tu mera kya hai", a wonderful song, both in terms of its lyrics as well as music. Sadly, this song is not included in the film. Theres a lovely romantic song, "Kahin To Hogi Woh". With its haunting lyrics, it certainly reminds you of "Tu Hi Re", another A R Rahman track. Last but not the least, theres "Tu Bole Main Boloon", the title track, sung by A R Rahman. As usual, he does a brilliant job and the song is one of the best in the albums. After Guru, its nice to see A R Rahman's music in a new avatar and I am glad I live in his era.

Like The Sunflower

This poem,a metaphorical love triangle is written by one of my best buddies at school Jai. In fact it was him who introduced me to writing in the first place. Loved his writings then. Love his writings now.

Like The Sunflower

A flower was born from the barren skies above,

Life was her colour and smile was her scent,

She was a gift for the land of love,

That the selfish god had so reluctantly sent.

The droning bee was created one day

He was thirsty but couldn't drink water

"How should i live" to god he prayed

"Go to the flower" replied almighty creator

And so to the flower he went

"I'm the bee that god has sent"

She asked the bee "will you be my friend

That the selfish god had promised to send"

Thus friends they became forever

And this friendship created nectar

That gave life to bee and the flower

And made sure they remained together

The sun was there all along

And his story ran from dusk to dawn

As he was infatuated to the lovely moon

But this was going to change very soon

The moon shone alike for all the stars

With cool glow she reflected his heat

And the sun's feelings slowly vapourized

"I too am a star" the sun finally realized.

So to days he turned from the night

And saw the flower in his own light

At this age as naturally as one might

He fell in love, again, at first sight.

Flower gradually found all her bee friends boring

And looked at the skies one pretty morning

To find the sun who was looking cute and adoring

And since, with each other, they started gossiping

From sunrise to sunset they faced each other

Their private chatting seemed to end never

Her name was changed by someone very clever

And thus she became the pretty SUNFLOWER

The sun ignored the planets and the flower ignored the bees

They were seen alone at hilltops, they were seen near the seas.

The bees found other gardens the planets didn't stop revolving

The sun's light was fading and the flower's fragnance dissolving

Still ignorant of the world around

Love sweet love they had found

Until one day so hot the sun became

That it paused this lovely game

This growing heat scared the flower

But as she was now the sunflower

She couldn't turn away from this fiery fellow

And her colour of life faded to a dusty yellow

And this story continues forever

Bees like the sun and the flower

But they never search for nectar

From the yellow sunflower.

Written by Jai Singh Kshatri

The God that did not exist

Fiction. Written in haste at 2 am. May contain grammatical errors, spelling errors. Kindly point out if you find one.

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I was blinded for a second. I had used every ounce of my energy on pressing the brake. And now it was as if I was dead from the exhaustion. A little ahead, a crumpled body of a small girl lied in a pool of blood. People were gathering around her. I realised that my car had hit her but then I was too numb to realise anything else. Some young men came to me and spoke something but I could not hear them. The noise in my head was too loud. They nodded their heads, put me in the back seat, picked up the girl and put her head on my lap, and one of them started driving.

It all seemed a nightmare to me that I could not wake myself up from. As I sat there with the girl’s blood soaked head in my lap, I looked at her face. She was beautiful, looking at me as if smiling. Her eyes were closed, as if she was in a deep sleep unknown to everything that was happening around. I had lost my parents in a car accident when I was a kid and a part of me had died after that. A part of me that had so much belief in God. A part of me that had known that God could not be so unkind as to take away the ones I love the most. And it was an irony that now I was involved in the life and death of this small girl whom I didn’t even know, through a car accident. As much as I wanted to look away, that tiny locket on her neck, carrying the image of Krishna, the Hindu God , was attracting me. Swinging like a pendulum, as if to delineate the time left in the little girl’s life, it was like a dagger going into and out of my heart.

At the hospital, the doctor gave me a medicine and I slowly returned back to normal. I thanked the men who had brought us here. They told me that they had informed the police and it would come here any time. I was taken to the police station and questioned. The girl was some orphan, I was rich, I was not drunk and the men had testified that it was the girl’s fault. So, the police said that it would not be a big trouble for me. But somehow, it didn’t make me feel comfortable. As I went back to the hospital, I found the doctor and asked him how was the little girl. He said there was not much he could do and asked me to pray.

Pray! If it had been any other circumstance, I would have laughed. I had stopped praying since so many years that I had forgotten how you did that. It was not easy at first to be a non-believer in this society. People always ask you why don’t you believe in God? I have always avoided this question saying i am a rationalist and not an atheist. Basically, an atheist is a believer too. A muslim does not believe in any other God but his own, his Allah. An atheist does not believe in any other God, including Allah. So, a muslim is an atheist too and atheist is a believer too. Tell an atheist there is God and he will defend his stance with great ferocity. But as a rationalist, there is no question of presence or absence of God as everything is based on reason and science.

I had been to the church many times with my father, as a kid. The one thing that struck me most about the church was its silence. Like a lonely tree, it often stood out with its high ceilings and painted glass windows. Entering the church was like entering into another world, a world of serenity, a world of grandeur, a world that instilled fear nad respect at the same time. Whenever I heard the toll of the large bell at the church, a shiver ran down my spine. My father, a devout Christian himself, would always take me to the masses. When he met with the accident, I prayed for him day and night. I prayed with all my heart but when he died, i realised a simple truth about the world. And I have lived with that truth till now.

A child is always a non believer. He never understands hate, jealousy, danger and evil. He just understands one language- Love. Nature, even animals, understand this language. Strangely, we don’t. But then he grows up and when he keeps his tooth under his pillow for what seems like forever and does not get the moon he had always wanted, he realises life is not fair. He realises the fat man he had always believed in is just a fictional character. Then, he is told by his parents about God. And about the greatest excuse mankind ever intended- Fate. That day, he loses himself. He starts to realise he is just a mere puppet, he belives in his destiny and blames it if he goes wrong. Its strange that whatever he wants to do coincides with what God wanted him to do and whatever he could not do was not written for him by God. Man, who is so intelligent is not able to recognise that if there had been a God, he would have never the world bear so many misfortunes. He would have never let anyone to be born crippled, He would have never let so many innocents die in the name of terrorism. Man actually understands that but still clings to the belief because believing in yourself is very difficult. And that innocent child is somewhere lost in this belief in God.

But today was different. I had to pray. That image of Krishna on the swinging locket kept haunting me. I decided to pray for the little girl, as I had done for my father.

In contrast with a church, a Hindu temple is a dark and dingy place, most of them in caves. Beggars line the entrance of the temple, with outstretched hands asking for alms. On the inside, you see a fanatical celebration of God, people singing praises of the Lord called bhajans, people, with vermillion smeared on their face, wearing holy robes dancing to the cries of Hare Rama Hare Krishna. As I went inside the sanctum, the air was suffused with the smell of burnt oil, garlands of flower lay on the statue of Krishna as people came and knelt on the ground and prayed. I stood there, my eyes closed, my palms joined on their own, as I heard the continuous toll of the bell. It made me uneasy as the church bell always used to do. Still, i stood there. Images of the girl’s face, the swinging locket and the stone statue of Krishna raced through my mind. And it was then that I knew the girl would be alive. I was alive with a new hope I had never experienced all these years. I realised hope was not a string of dew drops which faintly clung to reality as I had known, but that hope was a force. It was a force strong enough to move mountains. If there had been no hope, there would have been no world. Its only the hope of a better world that keeps us living and working in the first place. I realised what my father meant when he said during prayers, he was closer to God. I felt God coming down and saying to me that the girl would be all right. I felt relieved. I spent the entire night at the temple.

The next morning, when I went to the hospital, I was feeling good because I knew the girl would be all right as God had said me that. I searched for the doctor. When I found him and asked him about the little girl, he hung his head low. I did not hear what he had to say because I knew that the girl was all right.


Epilogue

I cremated the girl at Haridwar, a shrine for Hindus. That locket with the image of Krishna is placed alongside a small Jesus in my room. I always take my children to the church and to that Krishna temple. And I often tell them this story about a small orphan girl who made me see God again.