The Talk of Safety!

Let’s talk a bit about safety. Shall we?

(Warning, I am going to digress from the topic, totally!!)

So today I was almost done with all my work and was about to return home early when my friend called and asked me to meet her at a coffee shop near her place. I thought why not? It was early as it is and didn’t have much to do either. So I went there, had a cup of coffee, we talked and in some time I decided to leave. It wasn’t late but I just wanted to reach home before it started raining. We were sitting in the garden and I could see clouds getting darker with the time.

Just when I was leaving she reminded me to wear the helmet. Of course I forgot. How could I remember that? I just do not like wearing helmets, I feel as if I have overburdened my tiny head. So I wore my helmet and rode towards my home. It was just a fifteen minute ride.

After just two minutes I felt the strap choking my neck, it was too tight. I loosened it with one hand and rode on. After another two minutes it felt too loose so I stopped and tucked it tight again. I’d better choke than let it loose and keep the helmet coming down to my face. I don’t think there is any helmet made for my size of the head, or for a woman. They are all either too loose or too big! (Smaller ones and the perfect ones are really rare.)

I rode on for five more minutes in full speed, the roads were not too packed, and now I was in a hurry too. My phone was constantly ringing and I knew it was my mom. I hadn’t informed her that I’d be late.

Riding peacefully at a consistent speed, I was really enjoying the beauty on the roads. The part of city which I was leaving is really beautiful with trees on both sides shading the road.

I was about to reach the main road when I noticed two boys riding behind me in a bike, they were almost shouting and I could hear their voices, but could not make out what were they talking about. I wasn’t interested either. Only up till the point when I realised they were following me.

My initial instinct was to ride faster, so I took up the speed. I reached to main road circle and however hard I tried I had to slow down with the evening rush. They had taken all the same turns up till now, and I was hoping against all odds that they would divert ways now. This was the turning point; if they wouldn’t take another turn here then I would be sure that they were after all following me.

I gave no indicators, ignoring the traffic rule, and pretended to go straight. And then just when there was no other way to go, I took a sharp right turn and moved inside the area, switching off from the main road. They had pretended to go straight too but had followed my vehicle taking a right turn against the rules.

I was sure. They were following me after all.

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Speeding up wasn’t helpful, so I slowed down, hoping that they’d go away. That particular street was still busy; once I’d go inside the residential area I knew the streets would be would be isolated.

They slowed down too behind me.

I was frustrated, angry, scared all at the same time.

I moved on taking another right turn, taking me inside to the residential area. They came too close to my bike and I am pretty sure my face would have given away my inner feelings. What was I feeling? I was shit scared!

The next time they brought their bike beside me, I loosened my helmet and kept it handy on my left side, the side on which they kept nearing. By this time I had already moved past my home. I couldn’t let them know my residence. What if?

I was already way away, and the streets were getting isolated, and the sky was giving me signals that soon it would rain. It was almost dark now!
I had no option now. I did not know what to do? Where to go? My hands were shivering and making it difficult to ride. My palms were sweaty and tears were almost on their verge of flowing down.

I blinked hard. This was not the time to go weak.

“Shut up and think!”

With again an impulse decision, I slowed down my bike to almost 20kmph and pretended to take out my phone. This time I was the one shouting on the phone declaring my whereabouts to the constantly vibrating phone.

Just when I slowed down further, the main door of the house on the left opened and a man came out. I did not stop but I slowed down to a speed of 10, barely moving further. Of course if the boys behind me slowed down with me that would look fishy. So they maintained enough speed to go ahead of me.

Finally I breathed a sigh of relief. Just when they were at the end of the road, I gave my right indicator on making them feel that I would turn that way.

They turned right. Mission successful!!

I never drive past speed limit, of course I always follow the safety rules, but this was an exceptional case. Just when they noticed me taking up speed, they went further right, one boy constantly glaring behind, to keep track of my bike.

I took a sharp left turn, fortunately avoiding a Harley and increased my speed even further. They took a u turn too but very fortuitously a car came following from just where I took a turn making it difficult for them to follow me. But they still were after me, but thankfully very far away, almost at the far end of the road.

I took continuous three sharp lefts making it a circle to my home. But before I stopped I saw the reflecting mirror that they were not there, they had missed me. I zoomed the bike to the parking space, locked it and rushed to the elevator, the helmet still in my hand.

I was only relieved when I reached the inside of my house, still shivering.

“What happened?” my mom was all worked up just by my looks.

I broke safety laws.

“You never do that. What did you do?”

I broke three laws, mom. Not one. First, I did not give indicators, and when I gave I gave the wrong one. Second, I over sped. And third, I did not wear helmet.

“But you are carrying your helmet in your hand.”

Yes, mom. I just did not wear it.

“So did the police charge you?”

No, I saved myself.

Another foolish act!

So yesterday I was rambling about how I am an ultimate fool just for forgetting something, but today there is a new realisation about me. The fact that I am a fool doesn’t change but the reason does. Today I seem to be a fool only because I can’t forget things. Oh what an irony!

So what happened is I woke up with a tune in my mind. I mean I wasn’t listening to the song last night, it wasn’t playing anywhere in the morning, but when I woke up today, the first thought that came to my mind was that song. Which one? Bolna from Kapoor and sons.

And the song doesn’t just seem to go away. It was there with me in the bath, during the breakfast, on my way while driving, so much so that it was there in with me in the meeting too. I was humming the song silently while my client was saying something.

And it struck me then. What are you doing you fool? Stop singing!! It isn’t the place to sing.

And the song still didn’t go away. It keeps coming back, and the day isn’t over yet. I don’t know how many more blunders I am going to make today just for not forgetting the song!

 

Me- The ultimate fool.

On my birthday last month, my friend wished me good luck with such a heart-warming message and I the ultimate fool forgot his birthday. Well, I remembered, and I intended to call him up first thing in the morning, but then ‘the day’ happened and I forgot all about it. I just slipped. And the best part is I did not even remember this until 11:30 in the night. And then I grabbed my phone can called him instantly, simply apologizing. He did not mind, he said that he had been waiting for my call and had noticed that I hadn’t wished him yet. But still it was okay! So we had a good talk for a while and then we put off but I still did not like the fact that I forgot talking to him. While he on the other hand made it a point to call me at midnight, wrote me such a sweet text/poem. And what did I do? I forgot. Simple!

So I thought I’ll write him a poem or something, but then I realised that I don’t know what to write. What a shame!

So all I can say to him now is something like this,

Dear Yadu,

You are more capable than you think. And there is only one thing that I am waiting for you to do, write a book! You don’t give yourself enough credit for it, but you deserve every bit of it. You can really write a book which will be worth it, no matter what language you write in.

So may be very soon, eh?

I attach here the message he wrote me, and you can decide for yourself if he is capable or not. (Also I did a little translation in English which I am really not proud of. And I also know this is going to annoy him. He doesn’t like translations.)

Ek unsuljhi paheli, ek khamosh si kahani, ek mushqil sa sawal

Ye sab thi tum, aur shayad abhi bhi ho kisi k liye

Lekin jab jana to laga ye sab nahi ho tum,

Sirf ek acchi dost ho mere liye

Ek paheli nahi, paheliyo ka rasta ho tum

Khamosh kahani nahi ek bolti kitab ho tum,

Mushkil sawal nahi, un sawalo ka jawab ho tum

Beshaq alag ho tum, auro se bilkul alag,

Tabhi to shayad hazaroo ki bheed me tumhe pehchanna asan tha.

*

An unsolved puzzle, a silent story, a difficult question,

You were all of these things to me,

May be you are still one of these things for someone else, but not me.

Now when I know you, you aren’t any of these things to me.

You are only a true friend for me.

You are not an unsolved puzzle, but the answers to all the puzzles.

Not a silent story, but you are a book with your own life story,

You are not a difficult question, but you are the answers to all the questions.

Of course you are totally different from others,

That is why may be it was way too easy for me to find you among the crowd of 1000s.

Keeping Busy

No, I am not busy, I mean I am but not because I am busy, but only because I want to be busy.

Does this even make sense?

I hope so.

PS: In the extent of keeping myself busy to avoid things, i hardly know what am I exactly doing.

An imaginary essay

A tribute

To the pearl of our family

My grandfather…

My grandfather has had a great influence on me. Ever since I was born I have always been influenced by him, his actions, and his way of dealing with life. Though we have been together for a very short period of time we have shared great moments which can never be forgotten.

My grandfather was a great man. Despite being a common man he was no less than a saintly person. He had a very pure and a helpful heart. He belonged to an extremely poor family from a very small village called ‘Chakuliya’. In his days education was not so common but still he had managed to do P.H.D in Sanskrit. He wanted to become a Sanskrit professor but luck did not favour him. In spite of his so called degree he did not get any job and thus having no option he decided to continue his father’s business. This was just the first sacrifice he made for his family because after this followed a chain of sacrifices. I wonder how despite these facts he was happy at heart. He never regretted for what he did, rather he always thought about others first and then for himself. And this was the reason why my grand father has always been a special person in my life.

He had an appealing personality. He was loved by all. He was no different from any of our grand fathers. He too was very old, had long beard, very huge but a well maintained and strong body. He had a very happy-go-lucky nature and this was probably the cause for his being loved by everyone. He was a role model for many people. He could easily solve anyone’s problem and was himself a winner in his life.

He had sacrificed for his parents, for his children, and even his grandchildren. He always loved us and cared for us. He took his family business to great heights and had done everything on his own capabilities. Despite seeing numerous twists and turns in life he had proved himself as a strong man and even challenged life.

My grandfather had a very good and close relation with me. Being the only daughter in his family I was loved by him a lot. He pampered me and in return I loved him the most. We shared a special bonding, a bonding which I shared with no one else ever in my life and will never do. We passed most of the time together. Till I was sent to the nursery school he looked after me the whole day. I used to share everything with him- what I did in my school, what was I taught, my interests, and what I wanted to do further. And so on and so forth. My cute meaningless talks never ended but he enjoyed even those conversations. He helped me in my studies and always protected me from my mother when I did anything wrong.

Apart from this he gave me lessons regarding life. He taught me small manners, etiquettes, and the ways of behaving formally and informally. He never scolded me but he always explained to me why I should not do something. He had the biggest hand in building my personality. He was the only one who could understand me well.

It was then, when I was in class 2, he was suffering from throat cancer. His case was critical and the cancer was in its last stage. I was absolutely unaware about this. Even in this situation he never showed his tension, worries and problems to anyone. He still thought about others and their happiness. He behaved in a manner as if nothing had happened. At that time he heard the news that his youngest son had met with an accident and he needed blood. I should say he really was a great man, for even in his last days he did not lose hope when everyone else had. He did whatever he could for my uncle.

The last thing he wanted to do was to donate his own blood to my uncle. B- was short in the blood banks of our city and none of our relatives were B- except the pearl among pearls ‘My Grandfather’. He was a cancer patient and thus he could not donate his own blood. He was just unable to bear this fact. He felt helpless, paralysed and yet he did not lose it. I am really proud to be HIS grand daughter, really he was a man to be remembered for what he did in the past and what he did next. He brought innumerable poor people, got their blood tests, and those who were B- were paid a huge amount for donating their blood to my uncle. Wasn’t that just great? Yes it was. But great people do die and he too died in a month giving our uncle a new life.

Heartbroken we were and depressed I was to lose the best pearl, the strongest pillar of our family. He has imprinted his memories on us with such an ink which is just impossible to erase.

He had left some letters for me teaching me principles of life and giving me pieces of advice. I love him a lot and I miss him a lot. I even follow his footsteps. Whenever I am in a problem I place myself in his place and think what he would do if he would have been in the same situation. He has always been my inspiration and will always be. I miss his small and cute gifts, chocolates, beatings, thrashings and scolding. Even today I read those letters very often but have firmly decided to follow him throughout my life.

Days have passed like years but I have remembered them with silent tears.

PS: I called it imaginary because I don’t remember much of it. All of this is what I kept listening form my family members, which I poured out in words when I was a teen. And I could only wish I had the chance of living it once more, just to cherish those moments.

Hidden Inspiration

It was 3 am in the morning; my room was eerily silent, disturbing all my thoughts. Could silence do that? The only sound that pierced my ears was of the crickets hiding somewhere outside my balcony. I wonder why I even keep it open all the time. But that’s the habit I have grown accustomed to, I keep it open no matter what, even my parents are tired of that habit now.

So anyways, I was seated at my study, glaring deep into the bright light of my laptop screen, my fingers hovering above the keyboard, just hovering and not clicking. I had been doing it for a long time now, writing and erasing, writing and erasing, and I had been nowhere. The paper was due the next day, and yet I had nothing!

Creative writing, huh? Too easy? Now I know what’s easy and what’s not!

I stood, walking away, may be a walk could solve my problems? Who was I kidding? At 3, I would be scared even I type faster than usual; I would be scared even if my phone vibrated, let alone ring. I just stepped away from my table, and paced inside of my room, poking the pencil onto my head, as if it was a magic wand. I paced faster trying to exert myself.

Wait what? By walking? Of course not so I started doing stretches, jumping, lying down on the cool floor, anything, and anything that my crazy sleepless mind could set at work.

I stood up and refilled my cup of coffee, took a sip from the cup and rubbed my hand on my face. I even slapped myself the ‘wake up slap’. I mean common I had to do something.

I read a couple of articles on the internet then, I also googled things which were not required instantly, and which might be helpful, I read newspapers, believe me not just yesterdays’, the whole weeks. I went back to my novel diverting myself completely.

And yet, nothing!

And that’s’ when I realised that it was next day, it was already 6 and I might have missed today’s newspaper. I rushed outside, got the morning newspaper from outside and scanned it entirely in a hurry. And yet, nothing!

And then I kept flicking all the newspapers and articles in front of me. It was then that, an article entitled “Feminism bleeds blue” caught me and after reading it for three to four times I asked myself, why am I even reading it again and again?

I already knew what I had to write, and how and when? Then why was I wasting my time? I had none to spare.

What I wrote was not anything related to that particular article, really nothing about cricket, nothing about feminism, but something related to women. And as soon as I booted my computer again, opened the word file, words just came flowing by. And I was as stunned myself. Where were they hiding all night?

In no time I completed the paper and as soon as I hit send, I gathered that had my mind worked a little faster I wouldn’t have to be troubled the entire night. But no, it was waiting for some signal, I guess.

I still respect my beliefs: You do it or not!

I hate hose people who do not accept other’s views.

It’s okay if you want to be pessimistic, if you are of the belief that thinking negative all the while, makes you overjoyed when something good happens all of a sudden. It is okay. That is your way of living life; your beliefs, and I do not interfere with you. Okay, I do try and pull you out of that pessimistic zone, giving may be a lift to your mood, or a little positive thought, but I don’t just disagree with you. Do I?

Then why would you not just give my way of life a chance? I am not saying you follow them, may be just accept that I have a different way of thinking things.

Okay, even if you don’t want to do that, then in the least possible means, at least keep shut.

What gives you the right to take away my beliefs from me, my faith with such mean words?

*

I am sorry this may not a good post for reading but this is the least thing possible that my mind can rack through today.

 

My story: Of how I started writing!

A few years back, back in 2010-2011 around, I wasn’t this person that I am today. I was scared of everything, I was may be the most immature person you would have ever met, and may be, even the most depressed one. No one could tell then, not even my friends and family members. I had that talent in me, of hiding things, of hiding feelings. Come to think of it, I still have that talent, but I can safely say that I am not that person now, not anymore. I have moved out of that zone, for my own good.

It took me three years? Yes, I am that slow. I spent three years of my life crying and being helpless. I know you’d say, I should have known that no one is going to come and help me. I had to help myself. But I was lost then, and that’s what lost people do, they sulk. I am not saying my life stopped for those four years or so, it moved on very well. I went to school, I completed graduation, I did everything that most people my age did, but something was missing constantly.

I am sorry I am not going to mention what exactly happened, but I can mention three pointers,

A personal trauma relating family issues;

A social change,

And, being thrown into the ocean, when I did not know how to swim. (Metaphorically of course)

Anyways, my life moved on, yes it did, but I did not. I was in complete denial of what was happening. All at once.

Why did I not talk to anyone?

You think, I wouldn’t have? I did, but parents had raised a ‘strong woman’ who wouldn’t need her parents’ help every now and then, and my friend’s, well, they never seem to get me. Partying is more fun, I agree. It was not their fault. Whenever I would sit and want to talk to any one of them about my problems, it seemed they weren’t interested or at least they didn’t get me. And how would they, they weren’t in my position. Instead they felt that I kept repeating my problems, so I just stopped talking, stopped talking about my problems to them, and eventually I just stopped talking to them.

And then I lost all my friends too. I was in no way going to make new friends; I had lost faith in them.

I said them? Oh, sorry, I had lost faith in myself.

So that went on for about some time, and then I realised that my thoughts, my feelings were eating me. I couldn’t contain anything else inside of me now. I had to hold my fist tight, clench my jaws, breathe hard inside, to not to let out anything. And I could not let out anything, believe me, I just could not.

And even if I did, who would take that all in? Who would want to be surrounded by a depressed teen?

And that’s when I realised I had to do something, that’s when I borrowed comfort from a pen, loaned some security from the blank papers, fought for sanity from my own words, from my own feelings.

I am not saying it happened overnight, I am blatantly saying it might have taken me half my youth, but I did it. I came over it. I managed to conquer the harsh feelings my heart bore and I came out the person I am today, the Moushmi you all know.

That’s my story, that’s how I started writing, though blogging is what I started just a few months back. I would love to listen to your views, or better yet, how you started writing? What made you the writer you are today?

 

A year older! A year wiser?

Yesterday, I turned a year older, or to say a year wiser?

Any which ways this specific day has always been overwhelming to me, not only in positive circumstances but otherwise too.

This day, I realise sometimes my importance in other’s life. I know how much they mean to me and I make it clear too, in some way or the other but I get to know my significance on this day. (There are a lot of other reasons other than wishing me for my birthday)

It’s not about wishing me a “happy birthday”, it is after all just my birthday. But it is about just remembering me. There were many people who did forget me, and did make me a little uncomfortable, made me wonder as to why was I losing people year after year.

I just realised yesterday that I always say that I am searching myself, but in that quest I am also losing people. That is the price I am paying.

Anyways, this post isn’t about them, it is about those lovely souls who made my day “magical”. 😉

And I could not believe my eyes when those warm wishes touched my heart. Yes, my friends and family did wish me, but there was an unexpected turn when wishes from the virtual world came pouring in.

First off, dear Elizabeth, thanks a lot for your warm wishes here, the messages and the tweets, it did mean a lot to me. You basically wished me at every possible virtual place, not to forget your virtual hug and that LOUD singing of the birthday song. Your voice isn’t that bad, you know.

Then there were unexpected tweets from fellow bloggers kalyan and shivam. Thank you both of you for those lovely wishes.

Had it been a year before now, I wouldn’t have believed that I’d have virtual friends, that too such lovely people.

Apart from this, you know what I loved? Bhavna, a special friend of mine, she made me feel so special, I just love her a lot. And yes, one more thing, Mr. Yadu, he wrote me such a wonderful poem, I couldn’t believe my eyes, staring at that message. Thanks a ton for that too! I mean, a poem? For me? Oh my god!!

There were a lot of things that I could go on thanking for, but I don’t want to make it a thank you note. So I’ll stop here.

But I need to say one more thing, the thing that has made me even happier, the best thing that happened to me last week apart from the poem of course! So all week long, I kept getting packets from a courier company; and you know what it revealed? What it had hidden beneath?

Books! Novels!

What could just make it any better? It counted to a total of 16 books!!!!! The last package delivered to me yesterday, containing 7 books.

And I am just so happy now, what other gift could have been better for me?

So may be a little wiser after all.

Late night rains!

I lay on my back, the cool concrete floor lightly touching my body. I looked up at the sky smiling, but dark clouds loomed over me, hiding the shining moonlit night. The cool wind caressed my skin softly and just when my mouth cracked into a tight lipped smile, the first drop of rain water kissed my cheeks. I could see the faintest of stars shining in the sky, which was showering me with the cool splashes of rainwater so late in the night.

“At 2, I think it was really too late.”

Sitting upright, I silently slipped into my room, outside the night seemed beautiful, but inside the dark clouds still lumbered on.

The thought of going back to reading a few more pages of the novel struck me just when I drifted off to a deep sleep.