The Pandora Box

She leaned against the window and shut her eyes tight.The present seemed to ebb into the past. Time, she told herself is an illusion.The night lay threadbare as she unlocked her mind.

The images blurred. But she heard those words .They spoke to her in a different voice. The monotone of the fingers tapping the keyboard, the murmurs, the laughter..they all merged .

It had rained a bit. They told each other stories the entire night.Dont go,he had said then.The rains formed a pattern on the glass . She retraced her steps back in her mind.

The pitter patter dogged her as she let the sound of rains drown those voices but the murmurs grew. They merged with the words that emerged now in front of her. Were they just words, or were they emotions?"Leave," he had said then. He had the last word always.

She reached out to herself. The words stirred in her dead mind. A long lost emotion frozen somewhere in the depths ..She was lost in a timewarp. Time she told herself is not a healer.

She had flung them in the recesses of her mind, as they became fossils. But no body told her that fossils will not disappear. He brought them afore again. The words had a different meaning, but they chased her. The Pandora box had just been opened. Memories flew out. With them came the dead embers of her mind. But the wounds were still fresh.She couldnt feel the pain though.

The rains fogged the window. She stood there still for a very long time, listening to the pitter patter, long after the rain had stopped.

Nostalgia

I met a college friend yesterday after a gap of nearly 12 years and we created quite a riot.Needless to say, we cracked up over men and matters, women and their foibles and people who had walked in and out of our lives. We spent some time remembering "our aunty" who took care of us, even though we were just PGs ..and we wondered how we managed to retain our sanity in that mad world called media , in a chaotic city called Bombay, which was then home to us;we were the homeless, trying to seek a career and an identity.. For many years, after I left Bombay, I always felt that I carried a part of it in me and I often attribute the city for moulding me and giving me a sense of confidence and individuality..anyways thats for another post..

Coming back to yesterday's evening, we drifted into a blissful past where responsibility just meant to keep our heads above trouble, learning a bit about our careers and people who shaped our careers and to maintain a simple lifestyle with a measly salary . Yet, we were fiercely independent, keen on charting our own destinys and yet learning to enjoy life and its moments..We were a bit naive, says my friend . Not like today's generation, I agree, even though they are probably a decade or more younger than us. And yet, I believe that in our innocence, was our maturity..we were not so insecure, not yet bitten by peer pressure, no wannabe lifestyles for us, no uncalled for attitude . Silent and determind, mad in our own way,we were probably learning to balance a career with independence.We were at the age where we were learning to differentiate between boyfriends and friends who were boys, understanding that flings are not relationships and we were quick to pick up the pieces and move on... We didnt fall by the wayside, yet were grounded enough to realize that ambition was made of sterner stuff and we lived our life according to our terms

The evening passed and with it, a montage of life during the last decade. A decade that was probably a lifetime to us. The vignettes from our past took us on a heady journey where we were on a high and yet not drunk. We were sailing, flying and buzzing past life and yet, when the evening ended, life came back to a standstill. A full stop in many ways. And thats why I say nostalgia is a dangerous thing. It takes you to a real world, a world that features you and yet, a world that you will probably never see again . It hurts even more if its a happier world. It is illusionary, yet not an illusion but it creates a void. Nostalgia chases you all the time..If its a happy memory, we cling to it and are unable to let go. If its sad, well, you dont even want to think about it, even if nostalgia catches up with you . It sends you into a fool's paradise and then takes you down teary lanes and makes you wake up to emptiness.Ultimately it leads you nowhere..

Broken

Was it a toy or a relationship that just broke ?

For Aunty..

Its a tragic day for me today. I just lost someone who is very close to me - my aunty, who was one of the reasons I cherished my life in Mumbai..I remember going to her house as a naive 22 year old with no roof over my head,thrown out of my PG of 3 months.It was my first job in Mumbai , with a princely salary of 5K and my friend, Sujata was staying over there. She told me I could stay for 15 days till I found a roof and I slept the first night on the floor in the hall. She apologised to me the next day and told me I could stay with her in her room if I didnt mind and from that day, a deep bond grew between us. We shared our joys and sorrows, cracked up over bhel and boondi raitha, watched movies, had custard and cakes in the nights, bitched about boyfriends and bosses and travelled to quite a few places...I changed cities, but almost every job brought be back to Mumbai again..She would say," Tumhare liye mere ghar me hamesha ek bed hai.." It was more than just that.

In today's day and age, a lot of people come and go out of our lives.Many friendships, relationships break over silly reasons of ego and anger. And the memories fade away.Today,a relationship died but my aunty lives on..my landlady who for a few thousand rupees built a strong emotional bond with me, tolerated my angst and temper, laughed and cried with me and always wished me well..whenever I had a new job ,she would say, " Tum mere ghar se jaa rahe ho..sab achcha hi hoga.." I left her house day before yesterday and will never see her again.Aunty, ham aapko bahut miss kar rahe hain..

Sometimes, you just need to kill your darlings

I have been going through a severe writer's block for a while. Lack of focus compounded the issue as a few issues were weighing down my mind. My emotional highs and lows added to the entire problem as I am trying to grapple with an incident that happened more than ten days ago. Nevertheless, as I moved on listening to the head rather than the heart, the mind refused to stay focussed.

So I was struggling the entire day having written just one sentence of a 2000 word piece. I almost gave up when Arun, a blogger and friend asked me if I had managed to write the second line. I laughed and sent him the line I had written , telling him to continue from there. He read the line and in his own pragmatic way told me that it is not his kind of line. I replied indifferently that thats the only line I have for now, for words found expression in that single sentence . I shut the system and meditated for a while and then went on a walk.

As I played Arun's reply in my mind, I wondered if the problem was really the writer's block or my own inadequacies or the issues that refused to go away from my mind. Suddenly it struck me that the problem was so in my face and the solution was extremely simple. It was exactly what Arun said. The problem was the opening line. It wasnt a bad sentence , but it wasnt the right line for this particular travelogue that I was writing and hence I could not really continue. It was a deadlock and there was nothing more to say . In other words, I had to change the approach and the thought process.

I returned to my desk and changed the first line and sat down to write my story .My first cut of 1800 words poured out in less than three hours. I did struggle and several parts still need to be rewritten, but I had crossed the initial hurdle. After 12 hours of holding on to a single sentence, I deleted it and wrote 1800 words in less than 3 hours.Sometimes I realized you need to stop clinging and just need to kill your darlings cos they dont really work out.

I paused for a moment after writing like a demon possessed and wondered why I did not apply this logic to the other issues weighing on my mind. Probably, if I had the right approach, the incident would not have happenned at all to begin with , but whats done cant be undone. Nevertheless, I realized that I could still use the thought to get over it. After all, its just about changing the line, the thought, the approach and your own point of view, wrt people or issues. Its about realizing that whether its people or thoughts, you need to stop clinging on to them and kill your own darlings, cos they may not be the right ones for you.I just did .