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You step out on the open road, you see this one person making all the noise. The incessant laughter, the merry talks, the joker in your circus -- that's all me. You take a look around, and laugh, and then wonder how irritating, and in-your-face can he be -- that's all me. You might tolerate him, you might understand him; but you'll never be able to miss him -- that's all me. A li'l 'ere, a li'l there; the story doesn't change. You move ahead.. And Yesterday maintains its status quo. So on, so on.. And, the moment you patiently break through the high walls, and step inside the deep thoughts, you learn that the outside show is just a masquerade; a reason for everyone to believe that the world is at peace with itself -- that's all me. A reason for you to believe that a life of love, peace, beauty, forgiveness, hope, friendship, and redemption does exist. A life where the only thought that you share, is laughter -- that's all me. And then, it all comes out in writing...

Thursday, July 22, 2010

The Day That Was. :)

"The Day That Was. A great day for freedom. Free to play alone with time. Evening never come."
21st July, 2010: I have exactly eight days left over here: My city, my home.. I'm nervously waiting for the day of Judgement. A li'l excited, a li'l scared.

"Life is a series of pulls back and forth. You want to do one thing, but you are bound to do something else... A tension of opposites, like a pull on a rubber band. And most of us live somewhere in the middle."

What happened today, changed everything.. It was a great day for freedom.

I woke up relatively early today, and did my usual getting-up routine. I read up on some history, and waited for the day to take its own course. Moment. I got a call from a friend, asking me to call him back immediately. I did that. It was a conference with my oldest two friends. We randomly decided to meet up, and roam around. A place was fixed, and a time, chosen. The danger: we had to go about informing/warning/coaxing our parents.

At 1430hours, the day was merely taking a randomly perfect course. We had a snack at an eatery, and sat there chalking a path for us to walk on for the next few hours. We were free to play alone with time..

We soon left, and went to the nearest railway station, and caught the first train to the last stop in South Bombay. We made a couple of prank calls to some mutual friends, to pass the thirty minute train journey. It was random, but fun. Laughing our asses off, making noises, and getting embarrassed in the public eye. It was random, but fun.

At long last, the train crawled into our designated platform, and we disembarked. We decided to walk the way to the Gateway of India in Colaba, taking in the myriad sights the area had to offer, lane by lane.. A long walk, we got tired at the end of it.

The sight of the sea spurred us back to our souls.. We reached the Gateway of India, a monument, set against the backdrop of the Arabian Sea, lying underneath a dark, cloudy sky, ready to unleash its horror without warning. The Taj Hotels, standing the test of time, and terror, majestically towering over the monument. British Raj structures- we saw it all.










We sat on the wall, taking in the breath of history we were surrounded by. The waves splashing on the wall, showering us with its salinity. Bliss had found a new meaning. A meaning in sweet, salty tears.

A while on, we took a taxi, and headed towards Girgaum Chowpatty. The taxi ride was one to remember. History Road. The rifles that shot themselves, the ammunition that never ran out, always ready to use with some good handling. Laughter. We took a detour on the way, and stopped ourselves at Nariman, sorry, Naaarrriiimmaaan Point. We paid our dues, and walked on that chosen path of ours, our path, to freedom...

"One of the best things about this city.. is the smell of the different air. You can smell it before you see or hear anything of the place. It's the blue skin-smell of the sea, no matter where you are in the Island City. That smell: the worst good smell in the world, above all things- that welcomes me and tells me I've come home."
He couldn't 've been more right. It was that very smell that drew us towards those rocks, the rocks which were combating the wrath of the waves for years, withstanding its fury. The very smell that aroused lost longings of loneliness in our parched selves. Reincarnated, welcomed.

Sitting there on those black tripods, staring into oblivion, straight into the sky, thinking, about nothing.. You actually find a new meaning of existence. You live in that moment forever, and a fairy-tale Land of Oz seems real all of a sudden. Another wave crashes, splashing its salt on you, and you come out of your dream world, admiring the brute of the sea gods, hoping that evening never come..

The camera comes out, and the photographs are clicked. A way to materialistically remember what the soul always will. Memories. I stand there, hands outstretched, surrendering myself to the will of the heavens, accepting whatever is to be given, welcoming my tomorrow.. my adulthood, with authority. The moment is captured. We look around in different directions, ready to face another challenge, and each glimpse is saved for tomorrow's remembrance. Click.










The clock ticked on, evening did come, and we had to depart. "If I'd died then, I'd 've died happy," I said. But, I was yet oblivious to what that word meant. The new meaning was to find a new meaning. Walking against the winds, on the sea-facing pedestal, heading towards the beach, the scene was threateningly serene. The black of the sky obscured our vision, and the waters rose again. Only this time, they descended on us too, rather ferociously..

It was a Floyd moment. "Comfortably Numb." "Coming Back To Life." Epic. The rains splashing on me, bathing me, but the music remained, occasionally joined by the drum-beats the waves provided too. It was an evening like never before. Technology in our pockets, not fearing the onslaught, braving the challenges, the very ones their masters took on. And our walk continued.. on, and on.. like some gold-brazen path we took upon ourselves. Not a single worry, no time restraint, just the rains to accompany us, with the Here and Now being etched in our memories, for times uncertain.. Joy.

Running towards our destination, the moment had arrived.. We had come back to life. Recalled.

We took a bus on the way, and drenched, enjoyed the delights that coffee had to offer to a frozen man. The wait, and the smoky food dried us, and rejuvenated, we punched our way back home. The journey back was a test of technology- our pocketed gadgets. All OK. Thankfully. The music rung on as the train rambled on, and recalling the day, we soon took leave of each other. 1, 2, 5. I was 5.

I caught the wrong bus home, and had to walk a good while.. I got soaked in that black, dark fury again. A drink, and four flights of steps later, I reached my door, changed into dry clothes, and departed on a mini-journey of sorts again. Walking some of my last steps in my Gardens, we spoke about that uncertain tomorrow I'd told you about yesterday, the Universe, and the underworld. A rendezvous with the animals of the place, and then, the inevitable- goodbye, goodbye!

Back where I belong now: Home. And, back with whom I belong- the same ol' friends I waved out to a few hours back, having me at hello again. We retraced our path backwards, and weighed out our wishes for the next week, and Time calling us underneath the blankets, a cut was soon heard.










We wouldn't realise it then, but that was only the beginning. There is no end; the Falcon brotherhood had been established eons ago, and the insignia had been long struck. Our story, hanging on a wall, and framed at the back, never forgotten, always reminding us of.. The day that was.. :)
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