Anticlimaxes

Bad Manners

The strange green light bathed the small boat in its luminescence. The boy and the girl in the boat oblivious to its presence were locked in a liplock was not meant to be opened by any key made by hands of men. Their hands roamed over each other and their bodies hot and feverish rocked the boat to and fro in the calm water of the river. All calm, except the green light that was now increasing in its intensity. It enveloped the boat like a light fog and slowly started pouring itself into the boat.

A tentacled figure rose out of the fog, and hovered silently over the boat. It observed the entangled couple with the interest a child shows in a new game.
The girl opened her eyes mid-kiss, noticed the floating tentacles and leapt off the boy with a startled yelp. The boy looked around confused at the green mist that was now covering half their boat and tried to calm the girl, but his own rising panic was enough to send the girl into a crying fit of hysteria.

"YOU!" thundered the green tentacled figure and pointed at the girl. The girl stopped crying at once, her tears choked back by the fear of the unknown.

"It's bad manners," the floating form said, "to open your eyes when kissing."

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Really Bad Manners

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The Urge

There were times in his life when he could not control it. The urge bubbled inside him like something alive and potent, kicking and screaming to be let out. He stared at the girl sitting across the table. His first date in many years and he was feeling that old old desire again.

What will she think of me if I do it?

Will she leave, or will she strike me in disgust?

Words rumbled and jumbled in his head, he had to find a way soon or there was going to be trouble. He looked behind him at saw a waiter in the pathway, if only he could reach his leg to the side and trip him and spill those drinks…he found out in a second that he could.

The waiter missed seeing the leg and was soon making acquaintance with the cold floor in a puddle of the drinks he was carrying. Some of it, as intended spilled on the skirt of the girl.

"Excuse me dear, I have to use the rest room." she said and left.

He smiled contentedly, gave in to his urge and started to suck his thumb.

Few proposals and an answer

The first time I asked her to marry me was when we were six years old.

"I'll be the husband," I said, "and you can be the wife."
"No," she replied simply.
"Yes," I said.
"No," she replied again and walked off.
After a few moments, I walked off too. It’s no fun playing house alone.

The second time I asked her to marry me, was when we were fourteen. We were partners in a dance for the annual school program and I was waiting for her to come out of the dressing room. I was dressed in a black suit and bowtie. As she stepped out of the dressing room in a pink dress that came down to her knees, I took a deep breath. She looked like an angel that had just stepped down from the heavens. As we waited for the teachers to give the signal for us to get on stage, I stared at her and tried to find my voice.
She caught me looking and smiled as she asked, "What are you looking at?"
"Will you marry me?" I blurted out.
Her smile turned into a grin, and a second later she burst out laughing. I didn't mind. I could see stars in her eyes. Still laughing, she took my hand and led me onto the stage.

The third time I asked her to marry me was on her sixteenth birthday. We were at a picnic with friends and the two of us were sitting by ourselves under a tree as the rest argued about which game to play next. She laughed at something someone was talking about in the distance. I heard the tinkling of bells in her voice. I plucked a daisy that was growing nearby and gave it to her as I said, "Will you be my wife?"
She blushed as she looked at the flower, and then burst out laughing again. She took the flower and ran to join the rest of the group. I followed.

The fourth time, we were eighteen. We were sitting in the cafeteria in college as she sat sipping on a glass of orange juice and telling me how insightful the last book she read had been. After speaking continuously for a few minutes, she stopped and said, "What happened? Why aren't you saying anything?"

I looked into her eyes and said, "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"
As before, she burst out laughing again and said, "You're not old enough to get married yet." And then she started talking about another book.

The fifth time I asked her to marry me was the day of our graduation. We were both twenty-one. I got down on one knee with a red rose in my hand and said to her, "Will you, now, take me to be your husband?"
She grinned this time, and replied, "You're always in a hurry. You wanted to do your post-graduation, right?"
I shrugged, got back on my feet, and walked with her to the convocation hall.

Few years later, I had finished my post-graduation and had a job in a multinational company. We were sitting in an ice cream shop when she brought it up.
"You haven't asked me to marry you in four years," she said. "What happened? Did you change your mind?" She was smiling widely.
"What do you think?" I teased.
"I think you're afraid I’ll reject you again."
"You haven't really rejected me even once, till now," I countered. "You never really said 'No'."
"I did when we were six," she pointed out.
"She remembers", I thought to myself, as I smiled at the memory.
I held out a spoon of ice cream for her to taste, and said, "Alright, so you rejected me once."
"So?" she asked as she tasted my ice cream.
"So nothing," I replied.
She rolled her eyes in silence. She was no longer smiling.
"Well?" I asked. "Do you think I've changed my mind?"
She frowned as she said, "I don't know." She looked beautiful even when she frowned.
I watched her for a few seconds and said, "Why don't you ask me to marry you this time?"
"Me?" she replied, eyes wide in surprise.
"Why?" I asked. "What's wrong with that?"
She blushed. "No," she said.
"Are you rejecting me again?" I asked.
"No, no!" she said quickly.
"So then you are saying 'Yes'?"

She stuck her tongue out at me as she realized what I was trying to do, and went back to eating her ice cream.
"Hey," I said, as I took her hand in mine. "Marry me."
She scrunched up her nose as she replied, "Are you sure?"
I'd been sure since I was six.
"Yes," I said simply.
And she just smiled and nodded.

Flowers - a Valentine's Day Story

Deodhar was disgusted. He was absolutely sick to his stomach. Not really, but he could have been. Let's assume he was sick to his stomach. He could hardly bear to look at that morning's paper, but he leafed through it hurriedly anyway, trying hard not to be driven into further disgust by all the Valentine's Day ads in the paper. Several of them were cut-out ads - "Cut out this ad and bring it to Neem restaurant along with your valentine on Valentine's day and get 20% off on all burgers!"

Deodhar was what people called a die-hard romantic, but once January passed, he counted down the days to the 14th of February with dread. Deodhar didn't have a problem with the concept of Valentine's Day itself - a day to celebrate love was probably the best idea since irrigation. But the way these greedy corporations commercialised and commodified Love - was to dilute, to pollute, a thing that was so pure, so unadulterated. And this most sublime of emotions was being sold as a 200 rupee heart-shaped box of chocolates, according to the advertisement Deodhar was now trying not to look at.

What was probably just as bad was the kind of pressure Valentine's Day put on people who didn't have their special someones - he'd seen his friends go through immense depression watching couples be all valentine-y. Of course, it's not like Deodhar had never spent Valentine's Day single - he was just a little more stoic than his friends – in this case.

This Valentine's Day, Deodhar was not exactly single, nor was he exactly multiple. You see, he had a thing going on with a certain girl, called Daisy, whom he was quite fond of - but they hadn't really talked about what this 'going on thing' was about and it was kind of an on and off 'thing' - for the sake of simplicity, let's just say Daisy was Deodhar's "It's complicated".

Now Deodhar had every intention of asking Daisy to be his Valentine on the thirteenth of the month, but he hadn't quite figured out how to do that yet - and that was just his excuse for not really having the guts to ask her. But now the day was here and he knew that if he didn't seize the day, well, he wouldn't seize the day. He must speak now or forever hold his silence or something like that, because there was no more time for procrastination.

Deodhar decided to go over to Daisy's place and fix up this whole Valentine business. He didn't want to call, because that wasn't personal enough, and he didn't want to send her an email, because that's just stupid.

But just strolling over to Daisy's house and asking her to be his Valentine didn't seem enough. After all, this was a rather last-minute proposal, so he'd better have more than a lukewarm "Will you be my valentine?" to ask her if she'd be his valentine. It needed more passion, more flavour, more romance.

Deodhar considered delivering a long speech, extolling Daisy's feminine virtues, her curvy, yet sturdy figure, her slender limbs and all that. But Deodhar had never been great with words, so he didn't want to risk doing something like that. This also meant writing poetry was out of the question. Deodhar also couldn't carry a tune to save his life, so that obviously meant no serenading.
Chocolates and teddy bears were definitely out of the question - too cheesy and too commercial. So were Valentine's Day cards. He didn't like the idea of pre-packaged sentiment.

Then it hit him - flowers. Of course, flowers were a staple Valentine's Day gift, perhaps overdone, but they still had their charm. They were natural, beautiful, fragrant, just like Daisy. Besides, being a great listener had paid off - Deodhar knew exactly what Daisy's favourite flowers were.
Deodhar decided not to buy a bouquet, for that would be commercialism all over again. He had a little garden in his backyard where the flowers he needed grew. Now delighted, Deodhar picked a bunch of Daisy's favourite kinds of flowers and immediately rushed to her house.

Deodhar knocked on the door, and holding the flowers, waited for the door to open with bated breath.
Then the door opened and there stood Daisy, more gorgeous than ever before. Deodhar held out his homemade bouquet sheepishly. "Ha... Happy Valentine's Day, Daisy... will you be my valentine?"
A wave of elation and relief washed over Deodhar as Daisy smiled and took the flowers from him.
"Of course I'll be your valentine! How sweet of you! You got me my favourite flowers! Human testicles and ovaries! Oh, and I see a few penises, too! Oh, it's wonderful, Deodhar, and it smells divine! I'm so glad you asked me... I was afraid you wouldn't."

Deodhar was filled with joy. He extended a branch and Daisy held it in her slender twig. They walked together, limb in limb, out to the park, their bright green leaves and petals shimmering in the sunlight. And then a thought occurred to Deodhar.

"Daisy, imagine if the humans were people, and the plants were in their place. You think they'd gift each other our reproductive organs?"
"Eww, Deodhar! Don't be disgusting!" Daisy said.

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There, i'm late with my V-day post, but i guess that's alright ! In case any of you did not understand / follow the post, re-read & click "Flowers" to read about flowers on wikipedia :-)

Anyways, i recently went for a wedding..a typical gujju wedding & i was very surprised to find people discussing their shopping. No, shopping ain't the surprising part.. but they were discussing how they had purchased their clothes, shoes and in some cases even jewellery ONLINE. i knew that the e-tailing trend is on the rise, but i always thought that it was largely for Airline Tickets, Movie Tickets, maybe food...but, clothes, accessories, and other niche categories like baby products, Arts & Crafts are on the map for online users.

So, i thought i'll also post a few linkes to these e-tailing sites on my blog from now onwards - click on any of the hyperlinks above to go to relevant sites & shop online !

Grown up...

The door was slightly ajar, just enough for the room to breathe.

The boy inside looked like furniture. He just sat there, his eyes like grey stones staring into nothingness. He felt wasted.

The door opened and a man with too much on his mind walked in."Son?",he almost whispered."Johnny..Johnny??”

A weak grin came on his face like a flickering candle in a full wind."Yes Pa," he said.

"You doin' sugar again, huh?? Temme son!!"

"No Pa..", he said in a deadpan voice

"Now you lyin to your ol' pa like that? Temme you lyin' son!"

"No Pa..", voice barely audible.

"You wanna talk to me, you open your mouth son!!I am tellin' you...Just...OPEN YOUR MOUTH!!"

With a heavy heart he turned his back to his son and left in a tearful hurry. And then he heard the most awful sound that he had come to hate in the last few years; that laugh…that laugh..

“Ha ha ha..”.

Maut... zindagi ke liye zaroori hai yeh..

D E A T H.

Bad word, hai na ? Ma says its a bad word. Papa says don’t say it. Nidhi stops talking to me if I utter it. Its a bad word. Death. Even in the movies, the heroine places her finger on the hero's lips before he can complete the sentence and whispers "Kabhi marne kee baat matt karna. Aisa nahee kehte".

But, its coming yaar. Death. It will happen. To me. To you.

Acchha yaar , now stop yelling "manhoos", bear me out. What if I were to die after half an hour. I shall never be able to feel ma's palm on my forehead again. I shall never hear Nidhi’s voice again, nor hear all my friends saying “kitna mota ho gaya hai tu. Kuch kar”. I shall never be able to tell dad that even though I always try to act smart, he is the greatest guy I have ever known. I shall never be able to tell the departmental store guy that I stole 3 eggs from his shop yesterday. Ok, dont dial 100 , the eggs wala part is not true. How could you imagine that, me and stealing eggs ? I am a Jain. I steal tindli and dhania.

But seriously, death scares me. It scares me to be away from my loved ones. It scares me to die without doing all the things I want to do. It scares me that I may die. But death is real. And I may die after a year. I may die tomorrow after office, if I do end up leaving office. I may die before I complete this post.( But now that I have published it , I did not die before completing it,right ? Think about it ! ).

Now you may smirk and say "arre yaar , aise thode hee koee mar jaata hai". But I have seen lives shattering in the blink of an eye. A second's delay in hitting the brakes , a leaking gas cylinder , a cycle containing a bomb parked next to you, a desperate and armed domestic help . . . is enough to change your life in a radical way , before you can say "maar daala". And not like Madhuri said it in Devdas.

But the point is not to be scared of dying. The point is to be scared of dying without really living.

I see around me. I see people I care for. I see myself. Sometimes I see us all sad .I see us clinging to bad memories, things which we cannot change, things which still hurt us, things which make tears flow down their cheeks. I know we are hurt and not stupid and have reasons to feel sad. But life is not forever. Life is nothing but a limited number of moments gifted to us by god. And each moment is slipping by. Right now , a moment just passed by me , and took me closer to death , leaving me with lesser time to smile ,to crack some poor joke, to see my ma laugh, to see my dad proud, to see Nidhi find the happiness she deserves, to be a good person, to make someone smile, to live. And the very thought of letting such a precious moment drown in a tear leaves me restless. Why do we people hurt each other, when this life may not be long enough to love each other ?

Maybe you need to know that you may never get a chance to be the good man you could have been. Maybe you need to know that the moment you have been waiting for may never arrive. Maybe you need to know that you may never have the time to wipe off the tears you are causing today. Maybe you need to know that death is a surprisingly unexpected reality. Maybe you need to start living the life you should.

I know I know, I am saying nothing new. But life and the things it does to people and the things people do to it continue to amuse me. In short, ek baat bolta hun, all of us should respect and enjoy the ride, because hamari life kee taxi mein petrol kabhi bhi khatm ho sakta hain. And marne ke baad, you cant even fight with the cab driver. So smile, khush raho, muskurao, jeeyo, and make people smile , kyunki ..kal ho na ho. Wait a minute ..kal ho na ho..yaar ye phrase kuch suna hua nahee lagta ?

PING !!!!

I got a strange invite last night on my BBM. It was an invite from user name “00GOD000”. I did not know who it was, but added him however. Below is what transpired later

Me: Who is this ?
God: Hi
Me: Hi.. Who is this ?
God: My Username seems to suggest I'm God
Me: Yeah, right !! Tell me who is this & who gave you my BBM Pin
God: Umm..let me get back to you. I'll check with my secretary
Me: !!
After a while
God: Yes, confirmed, I am God
Me: And you had to check with your secretary to remind you who you are ?
God: Yes, there are so many things I have to remember, I forget some things.
Me: And when your secretary told you, you believed her ?
God: Him !
Me: Him ?
God: Yeah, is there a problem ?
Me: I thought your secretary would be a woman.
God: Should my secretary be a woman ?
Me: No..just… anyways, I’m digressing. So, if you are God, howcome we are chatting on BBM
God: Why can't we chat on BBM ?
Me: Well, I would expect God to communicate with a human being directly from the sky, heavens.. You know !
God: But, wouldn't that disturb everybody else. So much noise !
Me: I guess it would
God: Good
Me: So…are you sure you are God
God: I can't believe you are still asking me ! Din’t I tell you already
Murmurs in the background
God: Ok, Try deleting me from your BBM list !
Me: …. Shit !! I can't delete you !
God: There…
Me: But still, God wouldn't chat on BBM
God: Who says so
Me: I do
God: And who, if I may ask, are you ?
Me: Aha ! If you were God, you wouldn't need to ask !
God: Oh dear.. And why wouldn't I need to ask ?
Me: Bcoz..bcoz God is Omniscient !
God: So, if I don’t know who you are, I can't be God ?
Me: Correct !
God: (pause).. That is interesting ! (another pause) But then, who am I ?
Me: That's what I would like to know !
God: Wait, I'll ask my secretary..
Me: Wait….
(long pause)
God: I'm back
Me: ???
God: My secretary says I really am God
Me: Then tell me who I am. You would know
God: My secretary explained it to me. I do know everything, but just can't remember any of it. Like for example, the fact that I am God.
Me: That can’t be right. If God doesn’t remember stuff, we are all doomed !
God: No No..here in heaven, there is a concept of archived data, data warehousing, a search engine etc. My brain is not large enough to store everything, so only some data is readily available. I have to search for everything else.
Me: ok…
God: And my secretary pulled out your file. I can tell you some things about yourself. Name is Mihir, birthday is Dec 14..
Me: stop stop… these are info bits that anyone would know !
God: Ok, ask me something.. Something current, that only you would know and you haven’t even told your fiancee.. Whats her name… Nidhi
Me: Impressive… ok.. I told my fiancee that I was going to paint a certain wall in my room a particular shade of blue. But, last night, I thought of another colour ! Tell me that ! Ha !
God: wait.. Lemme press refresh on my search engine…yeah… it shows me.. Orange.
Me: (silence)
God: You there ? You believe me now ?
Me: This is eerie.. Im still in a daze.. Are you.. God ? The GOD ?
God: Yep, the secretary confirmed
Me: oh Shit !.. I mean, sorry.. Oh God.. what the hell…I mean..heaven.. sorry..
God: Calm down !
Me: ok..ok.. So, Where are you ? Are you One God or many ? Which is the truest religion ? What does my future hold ? Why are we chatting ? Why me ?
God: I have to go.. Maybe we'll chat later.. I'll happily answer all your questions..
Me: oh.. Ok :-(
God: Till next time.. "I" bless, take care
Me: Wait..
God: Yes, quick..have a meeting with my unit heads..
Me: Whaa? Unit heads ? Anyways, you said something about data storage and a search engine
God: Yeah..
Me: So, what's it called ?
God: Well, we here call it Godgle….

And then God’s status changes from “Available” to “Busy” and somehow, I can’t send him any PINGS. I guess I’ll have to wait… till next time…

...Coffee...

"Coffee?" I asked.

"Sure," she replied.

We'd never met. In person, that is. We'd met online two weeks ago. What had started out as a one line email, had turned into chatting on various instant messengers from both office and home, for hours everyday. And then on BBM, of course

"But where?" she asked, after a pause.

"Any place that's convenient for you, I guess."

"Hmmm," she replied, as if thinking aloud. "Ok. Seven thirty?"

"Done," I said. An hour. "Where'll you be?"

"Remember that place I told you about that's right next to the park?"

"Sounds good."

I logged off, and headed for the shower.

We'd both bought new BlackBerrys recently and that had been the thing we'd first started talking about. But we'd soon switched to everything else, like ourselves, our lives, our likes, our dislikes, movies, music, books and even the weather!

As I was getting ready, I thought about what I was going to do. I was a little nervous. After all, I had never done something like this before. It felt quite strange, really.

I chose a simple white-t-shirt and my light blue jeans. Hope it’s alright

Coffee dates are over a decade old concept now, but that didn't take my mind off the fact that I knew I was doing something that I considered just a little... weird. I mean I'd known her for barely two weeks. And, a coffee shop? It just felt a little... different.

I had to park a little way away from the coffee shop. Parking was always a problem there in the evening. I was glad I had decided to leave a few minutes early.

I chose my table, sat down, and waited. It was 7:29 when I got my *PING*. She would be reaching in a few minutes. A few seconds later, she pinged again. She had reached."Hi!" she said.

"Hi," I replied. "Just reached?"

"Yep," she said. "So what are you ordering?"

"A Swiss Hot Chocolate, I think. You?"

"Oh, Espresso with whipped cream. So how's the weather there in Mumbai?"

"It's beautiful. Not too sunny, not too cold. Just right. What about Delhi?"

"Oh, it's pretty good here too. It was a little hot in the morning, but then it rained in the afternoon, and so it's much more comfortable now."

":-)" I replied.