The teacher says:
Everyone....
All....
travel,
everywhere, all places...
All journeys end,
some day or the other.
But,
only, very few people's journey's end
becomes, the beginning for so many
in so many ways....
Your journey will also be one like that....
The student says:
A teacher is a river,
and the students its banks.
Just as the mighty Ganges,
shapes its banks
so do you....
Like her, you might be polluted
by the pilgrims...
but then you are still loved and worshipped.
Do not forget...
"You are my teacher"
Monday, April 28, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
Chicken Soup for the Prostitute's Soul
There was (and is) someone I love. Let’s call this person Y. Y becoz his memories are so painful that I have forgotten X, my first boyfriend-who introduced me to this trade, where we barter off saliva and body fluids. No he, (Y not X) did not intend to hurt me. He told me on day 2 that there wasn’t a future to our relationship, that I should go away, but then isn’t it true that what is forbidden is the most wanted. After all even he is with me, till date because prostitutes are forbidden for young men from “good families”
Over a period of one year, I did everything I could to love him, then hate myself for loving him, love him more and consequently inflicting more hate upon myself. This continued till I couldn’t hate myself more or love him any more…the course of journey with this one man told me that prostitutes aren’t those who bed many, but also those who bed someone with so much of an intensity that the noble woman in them burn themselves out. For your information, we never reached the bed though- we were limited to the seats in public parks and seedy discs.
He was neutral, in the truest sense of the word. Not that he was dead in spirit but far opposite from that he is a creator, a gifted writer, artist and a software engineer. (That was what I fell in love with in the first place and his confused, intelligent eyes in the second place) When his neutrality to my love didn’t rub me off he tried to ward me off but then there is no stopping a hot blooded Indian woman on trail. I explored the lust angle. He succumbed. Call me a bitch- I don’t care.
Now he tells me his family has decided whom is he supposed to marry. He tells me that he is happy (he doesn’t know happy people don’t complain about things as banal as the incompatibility between his and his wife’s sun sign) and that I should go on with the course of my life. I smile and tell him, life will take its own course through the deserts of pain and rainforests of bliss. Who am I to decide the course of life? Well, officially noone, worth an atom, forget the atom, not even an electron. For that matter even he is also noone to anyone, except me. He is my personal Jesus.
I know given a chance I wouldn’t marry him. Marriage is not for true artists. Artists never get satisfied…they always look for new avenues, new pastures, new mistresses. He has made his mind to be loyal, but then even without my interference; the dream of a blissful married life wouldn’t ever be converted to reality. Because, life will interfere and ask him to seek what doesn’t exist. And then he will meet me again. Ok if not me then maybe another bitch. Soul meeting Soul. Body is just the medium.
They ask me, they means my friends (that includes my mind) - that prostitute soul doesn’t get into relationship. Why the hell did I? When he had told me that we don’t have a future? I tell them, love is out of bounds for prostitutes but hope isn’t. I’m an eternal optimist. When I got into this relationship I had told myself 3 things:
1. True Love will find a way.
2. Sometimes you have to stretch yourself to love yourself back in place of the other person loving you. Yeah it sounds kinda stupid.
3. If it isn’t stupid it ain’t love.
I was sure he was the right person. I still am that he is the guy for me. No, don’t confuse it with marriage. Love and marriage don’t go together as best friends, they just go around as “hi/ hello friends”. So, I’m in love, I’m an optimist and I’m stupid. I’m hurt also- badly, for I haven’t forgotten a single moment of the toil I did over the past year. But then the optimism mantra says, “No pain, no gain” and “No shortcuts to success”. The second mantra was more difficult to implement. He was under my spell and the easiest thing was to blackmail him into marriage. But then as I said who wants to be the wife?
Once I jokingly asked him if he would marry me. His response was, “Are you crazy?” He treated me like a person would treat the one who gives out his death sentence. What he didn’t know was I’m his death. The truth of life. The black beauty that waits with open arms just at the edge. You can forget her and damn her existence in the frivolities of life but then there is no escaping her.
Today, he tells me we must not talk. I say, oh you think if you don’t, things would be alright? He stays quiet so I tell him that his wife and I would be the best of friends. He says impossible. My mind tells my heart, “more possible and easier than seducing you”. I say “Oh of course we would be .I want you to be happily married and will do everything to save it from breaking.” My heart tells my mind, “Even if that means giving you a break from your boring married life in my arms” I know I am not wrong. My love is unconditional as is my desire. I’m a prostitute, only becoz guys are dogs, who get bored easily, becoz they do not respect what they have.
My prosti- colleagues would be shocked if they get to know that I still hold himin dreams. But then I’m an artist. He is my muse. He is my canvas. He is my mind that fathoms the colours of the world. He is my hand that puts those reflections on the canvas. I do old things in new ways and new things in old ways. I awaken him and in the process live my life. But then I’m his teacher, his master in bed. I teach him, I restrain him and partner him in reaching new heights….
Who says I’m a prostitute?
Over a period of one year, I did everything I could to love him, then hate myself for loving him, love him more and consequently inflicting more hate upon myself. This continued till I couldn’t hate myself more or love him any more…the course of journey with this one man told me that prostitutes aren’t those who bed many, but also those who bed someone with so much of an intensity that the noble woman in them burn themselves out. For your information, we never reached the bed though- we were limited to the seats in public parks and seedy discs.
He was neutral, in the truest sense of the word. Not that he was dead in spirit but far opposite from that he is a creator, a gifted writer, artist and a software engineer. (That was what I fell in love with in the first place and his confused, intelligent eyes in the second place) When his neutrality to my love didn’t rub me off he tried to ward me off but then there is no stopping a hot blooded Indian woman on trail. I explored the lust angle. He succumbed. Call me a bitch- I don’t care.
Now he tells me his family has decided whom is he supposed to marry. He tells me that he is happy (he doesn’t know happy people don’t complain about things as banal as the incompatibility between his and his wife’s sun sign) and that I should go on with the course of my life. I smile and tell him, life will take its own course through the deserts of pain and rainforests of bliss. Who am I to decide the course of life? Well, officially noone, worth an atom, forget the atom, not even an electron. For that matter even he is also noone to anyone, except me. He is my personal Jesus.
I know given a chance I wouldn’t marry him. Marriage is not for true artists. Artists never get satisfied…they always look for new avenues, new pastures, new mistresses. He has made his mind to be loyal, but then even without my interference; the dream of a blissful married life wouldn’t ever be converted to reality. Because, life will interfere and ask him to seek what doesn’t exist. And then he will meet me again. Ok if not me then maybe another bitch. Soul meeting Soul. Body is just the medium.
They ask me, they means my friends (that includes my mind) - that prostitute soul doesn’t get into relationship. Why the hell did I? When he had told me that we don’t have a future? I tell them, love is out of bounds for prostitutes but hope isn’t. I’m an eternal optimist. When I got into this relationship I had told myself 3 things:
1. True Love will find a way.
2. Sometimes you have to stretch yourself to love yourself back in place of the other person loving you. Yeah it sounds kinda stupid.
3. If it isn’t stupid it ain’t love.
I was sure he was the right person. I still am that he is the guy for me. No, don’t confuse it with marriage. Love and marriage don’t go together as best friends, they just go around as “hi/ hello friends”. So, I’m in love, I’m an optimist and I’m stupid. I’m hurt also- badly, for I haven’t forgotten a single moment of the toil I did over the past year. But then the optimism mantra says, “No pain, no gain” and “No shortcuts to success”. The second mantra was more difficult to implement. He was under my spell and the easiest thing was to blackmail him into marriage. But then as I said who wants to be the wife?
Once I jokingly asked him if he would marry me. His response was, “Are you crazy?” He treated me like a person would treat the one who gives out his death sentence. What he didn’t know was I’m his death. The truth of life. The black beauty that waits with open arms just at the edge. You can forget her and damn her existence in the frivolities of life but then there is no escaping her.
Today, he tells me we must not talk. I say, oh you think if you don’t, things would be alright? He stays quiet so I tell him that his wife and I would be the best of friends. He says impossible. My mind tells my heart, “more possible and easier than seducing you”. I say “Oh of course we would be .I want you to be happily married and will do everything to save it from breaking.” My heart tells my mind, “Even if that means giving you a break from your boring married life in my arms” I know I am not wrong. My love is unconditional as is my desire. I’m a prostitute, only becoz guys are dogs, who get bored easily, becoz they do not respect what they have.
My prosti- colleagues would be shocked if they get to know that I still hold himin dreams. But then I’m an artist. He is my muse. He is my canvas. He is my mind that fathoms the colours of the world. He is my hand that puts those reflections on the canvas. I do old things in new ways and new things in old ways. I awaken him and in the process live my life. But then I’m his teacher, his master in bed. I teach him, I restrain him and partner him in reaching new heights….
Who says I’m a prostitute?
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Sunset - Thoughts of the dying man as he lay watching the evening sun
I sat in a lonely house,
at a lonely hour,
people lived there whom I’ve known-
whom I had loved, who were my flesh.
But this is not my home
for my home is elsewhere; where my heart is
-on the other side of the grave
I’m the setting sun
-the foreteller of night
-darkness
that’s beauty or evil?
Passion or madness?
Beyond the horizon the sun is setting,
birds are returning in scores to their nests
Like drunken young memories to an old mind…
I see my life plainly
as plainly as I see the colours of the sky
Red for love, Orange for beauty, Flames for passion
The green mountains- pastures of a hard toil
The valleys my downfall
The clock ticks,
It has been ticking since eternity
Who am I – not worth even an atom?
You heard that sound?
The sound of perfect silence,
The sound of snapping,
The sound of glass breaking into a thousand fragments,
The sound of water gushing over the broken dam,
The sound of nature’s victory,
The sound of music- echoing over the valley’s and hills,
The sound of the bird leaving the cage- the body.
I’m free,
As light as air as dark as night as bright as light
Going up and up,
Who are these people- crying over the empty body?
The shades of night deepen,
Shades of scarlet, purple and inky blue
It will go on and on...
Till I reach the sky,
and be a star in the sky
Finally,
An atom in the infinite.
at a lonely hour,
people lived there whom I’ve known-
whom I had loved, who were my flesh.
But this is not my home
for my home is elsewhere; where my heart is
-on the other side of the grave
I’m the setting sun
-the foreteller of night
-darkness
that’s beauty or evil?
Passion or madness?
Beyond the horizon the sun is setting,
birds are returning in scores to their nests
Like drunken young memories to an old mind…
I see my life plainly
as plainly as I see the colours of the sky
Red for love, Orange for beauty, Flames for passion
The green mountains- pastures of a hard toil
The valleys my downfall
The clock ticks,
It has been ticking since eternity
Who am I – not worth even an atom?
You heard that sound?
The sound of perfect silence,
The sound of snapping,
The sound of glass breaking into a thousand fragments,
The sound of water gushing over the broken dam,
The sound of nature’s victory,
The sound of music- echoing over the valley’s and hills,
The sound of the bird leaving the cage- the body.
I’m free,
As light as air as dark as night as bright as light
Going up and up,
Who are these people- crying over the empty body?
The shades of night deepen,
Shades of scarlet, purple and inky blue
It will go on and on...
Till I reach the sky,
and be a star in the sky
Finally,
An atom in the infinite.
Monday, April 7, 2008
The Shape of Our lives- Part VII - This life
She was a born optimist. A person who could see light even when there was none. He was a born pessimist, who could see darkness by looking at blinding light. She was a rebel who considered listening to parents as a crime, loved experimenting and arguing just for the sake of it. He followed the track as told by his parents, hated changes and would go to any extent to avoid arguments. She lived in memories and dreams. For him the work at hand was the most important. She believed in living for the moment. He lived and saved for the future. She hated commitments. He was all in all a commitment freak. She loved Cannaught Place, the English style bungalows and wanted to travel round the world as a diplomat. He loved Greater Kailash-I for all the display of wealth and hated leaving his family even for a day. She hardly ever visited her family during her college life even though it was just an hour’s journey; he would simply run away even on the weekends when his home was 300 kms away. He was a programmer who wanted to have his own software business one day. She was a HR professional who wanted nothing but happiness from life. He read non fiction and technical stuff only. She swore by Keats and fiction. She took all major decisions within seconds without thinking of the consequences. He thought so much that he couldn’t stop weighing pros and cons till the river of destiny paved the way for him. She loved wines and chocolates, could eat anything that was food except cottage cheese. He hated chocolates, never drank and ordered cottage cheese every time he went out. He hated his car because it rattled for he often drove it like a bike. She loved it to the last core for she said no other place felt so much like “home” She had dated people from all backgrounds and ages and even had the guts to bed a girl, well before she was 20; He hadn’t talked to a girl other than about work and studies even after 4 years of college and 3 years of work life. He had been to US and had found it boring; she hadn’t stepped out of the country, even though she was dying to do so. She thought sex was just one of the most boring and trivial but highly romanticized expression of love; he thought sex was all love is all about. She hated the air conditioning and insisted on rolling down the windows every time they went out, he couldn’t live without the AC even for a second. He was a workaholic who went to office even on the weekends, she bunked office with regularity just to be with herself. She hated the cigarettes; he couldn’t survive a day without them. He partied at discs in the costliest parts of the town; she was happiest eating junk from an open air makeshift restaurant. She thought life was a waste if in the end there was no one whom she could help and all he wondered was why the hell anyone should remember him when he was not there. She wanted to adopt kids, why bring more when there were so many in need of love? He couldn’t bear the idea of bringing in “filthy” blood in his family. She loved long walks; he needed the car even to move within his own locality She was willing to wait for a life time for the Prince Charming of her dreams and he could share his life with any girl for after all weren’t all of them the same? He was trying to please all the time, with sorry, thank you and please the most frequently used words. She didn’t give it a damn what people thought. She was a feminist who had decided that whatever she will do she will prove to be better than the men out there, even though she wasn’t deadly ambitious; he was an Indian Male in the truest sense of the word who thought the best profession for a girl was to be a housewife or at the most a school teacher. She lied with unfailing regularity and got away with it; he couldn’t meet the eye or keep a straight face when he told a whopper. She was as restless as a toddler, who has just learnt to walk, he the placid lake which couldn’t be provoked. She was fire that burnt anything that came her way, he the ice which could reshape itself as per the situation demanded.
Two people couldn’t have been more different. Yet when they met, sparks flew. She loved him to the point of madness for his polite exterior and had a mother like attitude towards his indecisiveness often forcing him to do “wild” things. She would ask him to date girls from porn communities on Orkut and he would oblige. She would take him to ruins in an old part of the city for the solitude it offered and he would go along willingly. She would ask him to bunk office and he would to be with her. He told her she wrote nicely and should start a blog, she did. He would ask her to meet a lesbian and she would , to discuss the "female anatomy" later with him. He pulled her along to a disc and she danced like hell. They did things that noone expected them to do except each other. They did all to please each other and a part of themselves that was so unlike the whole of themselves.
He lusted for her and his intense kisses and filled her with a calmness that she hadn’t ever known. She allowed him because it meant everything for her. The first time they had kissed it was almost jokingly, where she was trying to pull his leg calling him a sissy and he trying to prove otherwise. The raw energy of their passion had left then in a daze. He told her he was dating her just for fun and time pass, for she was beautiful, intelligent and his best friend. He told her, there was no sense of commitment to the whole thing. She agreed because this was one way she could have him atleast for sometime. Also she was sure her love would triumph over soon. How could they…fit into each other’s lives? Her friends said forget him; he is just another guy, a passing fancy. His said, well dekh lo, for all you know you might give her a try. She is mercuric but then not bad.
She in her usual free spirited way was ready to leave everything, her job her family her “independent” lifestyle of late night parties and flirtings, all for him and his orthodox family. He never ever actually consulted her on what she wanted and always insisted that she would be a big shot journalist some day and she should marry a guy who stayed either abroad or in one of the metros away from his family. She tried telling him that there was nothing more potent than the heart’s biddings and that she would be happiest if she could see him, touch him each day. He would have none of her “romantic notions” and insisted that he would never ever want to become a shadow in the path of her career. She said ask your parents once, if they refuse I will go away. He said I don’t need to ask, I know my family will never accept this love nonsense from me. And anyways we agreed in the very beginning that there is no commitment. Of course I feel bad that you would go away but then that is what destiny desires from us. “If you had agreed; I would have fought destiny…” was all she thought.
After the first kiss they decided (he decided and she followed suit) that the best way out for everyone involved (including parents and future life partners, though they were no where in sight) was to avoid meeting at all. But there is no greater rival to mind’s biddings than the desire itself. They met again…and again…and just couldn’t keep hands off each other. So they decided they would talk and not meet, till desire subsided itself or till the time they found love elsewhere. The last time they spoke he told her; that if ever we meet in future; we must pass as strangers. She accepted as he willed, with silent tears. But there is no greater God than destiny. Destiny made him, her and her, him. There wasn’t a waking moment when he could think straight about anything. He would think about her perfume and her musk while in meetings. She who lived in fairy tales and romances decided that although he was her Prince Charming, for whom she had waited all those years he wasn’t the right one. He decided not to marry anyone, because his parents wouldn’t let him marry her, she decided to be married off to the next guy who came her way because life would just be equally worthless with anyone, except the lost one. She gave up non veg and wines because they reminded her of him; he started eating chocolates just to have her “taste” in his mouth all the time. She decided to settle in India to be with his memories; he decided to move abroad because the whole country could not contain the pain he felt on losing her. She started feeling a hatred for love; he started saying that fiction is more real than reality. He said he couldn’t love her anymore than he could love an enemy but then he couldn’t forget her for the pleasure he felt when she was there in his arms. He couldn’t forget that her 2 smooches could drain off the tiredness he felt after 16 hours of work, within seconds. No amount of sleep could bring him respite. She wrote in her diary that she would marry anyone, but wouldn’t ever be able to give herself fully, no matter how much the person loved her. She had left a part of herself with him- which was irreversible.
Over time, they lost touch. She started believing it was her fault; after all she had provoked an innocent naïve guy into the sexual endeavor. She became extremely short tempered and an introvert, because of the guilt of her past actions. He couldn’t love anyone more than he loved her for her innocence and non stop prattle about what she imagined was his duty. With her gone he couldn’t decide what should be done. The pain wasn’t lost to either of them; they just learnt to live with it; over a period of time. She married, settled in GK-I and had a son out of the union. She knew she loved her husband so what if not in the same way- for wasn’t it true that you can love two people in equal measure but never in the same manner? He walked out of the engagement with the girl he had chosen for himself; against his parent’s wishes. He set up his home in one of the British bungalows in Central Delhi (after 12 years of life abroad), flirted like crazy with any girl he met but adopted as many 3 kids, who felt they lacked nothing but a mother. She abhorred meeting new people. She became a successful businesswoman, not for money but to spend time away from a family she neither loved nor hated. She read nothing but business reports and books to enhance the technical knowledge of the software product her company manufactured. Her husband joked that the sun came out after seeing her, for there was not a single day when she didn’t go to office. He entered the teaching profession for all the free time it afforded when he could indulge in gazals, poetry and social work.
15 years later they met again at the traffic intersection at Lodhi Road. Ashvin was with one of his friends and she with her solitude. It was a chance meeting. She had rolled off the car windows because the AC was non functional. The heat irritated her to no extent. He was walking- crossing the street. She might not have not noticed him but for the look of unfulfilled contentment on his face in the sweltering heat. She remembered her promise of passing off as strangers but he saw her and stopped dead in his tracks. The respective partners were forgotten and she even tried to look away. But he looked straight into her eyes with the brightness of fire. She melted like ice does. He came in, said hello and without asking sat in the car. He asked her to drop him home. She obliged. He invited her in for Vodka. She said she didn’t go to stranger’s home and had left drinking long back. He insisted…she wrestled with her feelings. She said she had a family waiting for her. He said his 3 adopted kids were waiting for a woman in his life who would love them like a mother. She said some other day…and rushed off before the 15 years of loneliness came gushing down her eyes. The moment passed; for both of them. They learnt to live in the knowledge of each other’s existence as they had once decided to live without it.
They met again, this time in one of Gurgaon’s malls. He was out on a shopping spree with his 2 sons and 1 daughter and she was on one of her “just like that” trip with her family. They met while her husband was in the Allen Solly showroom looking for a dress for her birthday gift and his two sons were patiently standing in the long queue at the Mc Donald’s counter, to get French fries and chocolate ice-cream for their sister, who was viewing the crowd from her dad’s shoulders.
They exchanged hellos. Their respective children looked strangely at their parents’ faces and felt the loaded tension in the atmosphere. She looked around uneasily and he said, “Arrey, we didn’t introduce our children. Meet my daughter, Maya. I named after a fairy who used to come in my childhood dreams, regularly telling me that we were made for each other and some day she would stand in flesh and blood before me. Initially I believed but as I grew older I dismissed them as nonsense.” His eyes said “You were the fairy, weren’t you? You loved me more than anyone else but then flew away because I didn’t know what love is. Forgive me Rashmi if that’s possible.” Aloud he said, “Maya, say hello to Rashmi aunty.” There was a look of horror on Rashmi’s face. She almost felt she would faint. So all those dreams were true. Hadn’t she those dreams about the illusionary celestial lover after whom she had named her son Astitva? Someone she had known so well from her life before and yet so little. Someone who had come and gone just as the curse dictated…
For all they know, the curse was reworking its magic on the children…Astitva and Maya. What’s in a name?
Two people couldn’t have been more different. Yet when they met, sparks flew. She loved him to the point of madness for his polite exterior and had a mother like attitude towards his indecisiveness often forcing him to do “wild” things. She would ask him to date girls from porn communities on Orkut and he would oblige. She would take him to ruins in an old part of the city for the solitude it offered and he would go along willingly. She would ask him to bunk office and he would to be with her. He told her she wrote nicely and should start a blog, she did. He would ask her to meet a lesbian and she would , to discuss the "female anatomy" later with him. He pulled her along to a disc and she danced like hell. They did things that noone expected them to do except each other. They did all to please each other and a part of themselves that was so unlike the whole of themselves.
He lusted for her and his intense kisses and filled her with a calmness that she hadn’t ever known. She allowed him because it meant everything for her. The first time they had kissed it was almost jokingly, where she was trying to pull his leg calling him a sissy and he trying to prove otherwise. The raw energy of their passion had left then in a daze. He told her he was dating her just for fun and time pass, for she was beautiful, intelligent and his best friend. He told her, there was no sense of commitment to the whole thing. She agreed because this was one way she could have him atleast for sometime. Also she was sure her love would triumph over soon. How could they…fit into each other’s lives? Her friends said forget him; he is just another guy, a passing fancy. His said, well dekh lo, for all you know you might give her a try. She is mercuric but then not bad.
She in her usual free spirited way was ready to leave everything, her job her family her “independent” lifestyle of late night parties and flirtings, all for him and his orthodox family. He never ever actually consulted her on what she wanted and always insisted that she would be a big shot journalist some day and she should marry a guy who stayed either abroad or in one of the metros away from his family. She tried telling him that there was nothing more potent than the heart’s biddings and that she would be happiest if she could see him, touch him each day. He would have none of her “romantic notions” and insisted that he would never ever want to become a shadow in the path of her career. She said ask your parents once, if they refuse I will go away. He said I don’t need to ask, I know my family will never accept this love nonsense from me. And anyways we agreed in the very beginning that there is no commitment. Of course I feel bad that you would go away but then that is what destiny desires from us. “If you had agreed; I would have fought destiny…” was all she thought.
After the first kiss they decided (he decided and she followed suit) that the best way out for everyone involved (including parents and future life partners, though they were no where in sight) was to avoid meeting at all. But there is no greater rival to mind’s biddings than the desire itself. They met again…and again…and just couldn’t keep hands off each other. So they decided they would talk and not meet, till desire subsided itself or till the time they found love elsewhere. The last time they spoke he told her; that if ever we meet in future; we must pass as strangers. She accepted as he willed, with silent tears. But there is no greater God than destiny. Destiny made him, her and her, him. There wasn’t a waking moment when he could think straight about anything. He would think about her perfume and her musk while in meetings. She who lived in fairy tales and romances decided that although he was her Prince Charming, for whom she had waited all those years he wasn’t the right one. He decided not to marry anyone, because his parents wouldn’t let him marry her, she decided to be married off to the next guy who came her way because life would just be equally worthless with anyone, except the lost one. She gave up non veg and wines because they reminded her of him; he started eating chocolates just to have her “taste” in his mouth all the time. She decided to settle in India to be with his memories; he decided to move abroad because the whole country could not contain the pain he felt on losing her. She started feeling a hatred for love; he started saying that fiction is more real than reality. He said he couldn’t love her anymore than he could love an enemy but then he couldn’t forget her for the pleasure he felt when she was there in his arms. He couldn’t forget that her 2 smooches could drain off the tiredness he felt after 16 hours of work, within seconds. No amount of sleep could bring him respite. She wrote in her diary that she would marry anyone, but wouldn’t ever be able to give herself fully, no matter how much the person loved her. She had left a part of herself with him- which was irreversible.
Over time, they lost touch. She started believing it was her fault; after all she had provoked an innocent naïve guy into the sexual endeavor. She became extremely short tempered and an introvert, because of the guilt of her past actions. He couldn’t love anyone more than he loved her for her innocence and non stop prattle about what she imagined was his duty. With her gone he couldn’t decide what should be done. The pain wasn’t lost to either of them; they just learnt to live with it; over a period of time. She married, settled in GK-I and had a son out of the union. She knew she loved her husband so what if not in the same way- for wasn’t it true that you can love two people in equal measure but never in the same manner? He walked out of the engagement with the girl he had chosen for himself; against his parent’s wishes. He set up his home in one of the British bungalows in Central Delhi (after 12 years of life abroad), flirted like crazy with any girl he met but adopted as many 3 kids, who felt they lacked nothing but a mother. She abhorred meeting new people. She became a successful businesswoman, not for money but to spend time away from a family she neither loved nor hated. She read nothing but business reports and books to enhance the technical knowledge of the software product her company manufactured. Her husband joked that the sun came out after seeing her, for there was not a single day when she didn’t go to office. He entered the teaching profession for all the free time it afforded when he could indulge in gazals, poetry and social work.
15 years later they met again at the traffic intersection at Lodhi Road. Ashvin was with one of his friends and she with her solitude. It was a chance meeting. She had rolled off the car windows because the AC was non functional. The heat irritated her to no extent. He was walking- crossing the street. She might not have not noticed him but for the look of unfulfilled contentment on his face in the sweltering heat. She remembered her promise of passing off as strangers but he saw her and stopped dead in his tracks. The respective partners were forgotten and she even tried to look away. But he looked straight into her eyes with the brightness of fire. She melted like ice does. He came in, said hello and without asking sat in the car. He asked her to drop him home. She obliged. He invited her in for Vodka. She said she didn’t go to stranger’s home and had left drinking long back. He insisted…she wrestled with her feelings. She said she had a family waiting for her. He said his 3 adopted kids were waiting for a woman in his life who would love them like a mother. She said some other day…and rushed off before the 15 years of loneliness came gushing down her eyes. The moment passed; for both of them. They learnt to live in the knowledge of each other’s existence as they had once decided to live without it.
They met again, this time in one of Gurgaon’s malls. He was out on a shopping spree with his 2 sons and 1 daughter and she was on one of her “just like that” trip with her family. They met while her husband was in the Allen Solly showroom looking for a dress for her birthday gift and his two sons were patiently standing in the long queue at the Mc Donald’s counter, to get French fries and chocolate ice-cream for their sister, who was viewing the crowd from her dad’s shoulders.
They exchanged hellos. Their respective children looked strangely at their parents’ faces and felt the loaded tension in the atmosphere. She looked around uneasily and he said, “Arrey, we didn’t introduce our children. Meet my daughter, Maya. I named after a fairy who used to come in my childhood dreams, regularly telling me that we were made for each other and some day she would stand in flesh and blood before me. Initially I believed but as I grew older I dismissed them as nonsense.” His eyes said “You were the fairy, weren’t you? You loved me more than anyone else but then flew away because I didn’t know what love is. Forgive me Rashmi if that’s possible.” Aloud he said, “Maya, say hello to Rashmi aunty.” There was a look of horror on Rashmi’s face. She almost felt she would faint. So all those dreams were true. Hadn’t she those dreams about the illusionary celestial lover after whom she had named her son Astitva? Someone she had known so well from her life before and yet so little. Someone who had come and gone just as the curse dictated…
For all they know, the curse was reworking its magic on the children…Astitva and Maya. What’s in a name?
The Shape of Our lives - Part VI
Yagya is more than happy at how the things were shaping up. He had been in trouble ever since he had met Astitva. Though when his messengers had told him about what had happened between Maya and Astitva, he had been furious. Their one wrong action could have changed the future of the worlds…All his anger had evaporated when he met the young man. The passion and determination in his eyes were not the kinds that could be punished or ignored. He had come with a hope and Yagya like a true ruler hated seeing any one go empty handed or disappointed. So he knew he had to tweak out a few things…Astitva would have to marry Kum…..and Maya as well.
D day arrived. Astitva was torn between his heart and mind. Hadn’t the Supreme Being promised him Maya? But if he had…there was no sign of her in the entire city. Where was she? The ceremony started. There were two “weddings” that were being organized at the same time. Astitva was so much lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even bother to look at the other couple. His eyes were searching for Maya and Yagya. He couldn’t find either of them. Still he felt everything will be all right. A vague sense of confidence and positivity was seeping within him. Since there were a number of “useless” and boring ceremonies in which he was to be a part of he decided to play a game. He decided to look at the eyes of every female present and see if he could spot Maya. Her face was a blur but what he hadn’t forgotten were her eyes and her smell.
He started looking around. As he reached the end of the hall he felt a tinge of disappointment, she wasn’t there in the crowd of onlookers. But wait…there were 2 girls sitting right beside him, one on either side. One was Kum and the other the female party in the other couple that was being married off. Since he could not look directly at the other girl sitting beside him, he glanced up at Kum. Just a glance. But what he saw made him look again. Was it his imagination or was it true? He saw Kum’s face but her eyes… oh didn’t they look so similar to those of Maya’s? He was sure his tired mind was playing tricks. He looked again…she was smiling, that pretty smile of hers…but then her eyes…they caught him off guard again. They seem to be saying…”Oh sweetheart, you have searched for me all around when Im sitting right beside you.”
Curiosity took place of wonder now. He was sure this was some game Yagya’s doings. He now looked at the other girl and was shocked to the last nerve cell. Why she looked so much like Maya…except those eyes…There was something terribly wrong with her. She looked exactly like what she looked when he had last seen her but something was missing…maybe the aura the mystic beauty that surrounded her. He glanced again at Kum and she was reading the wonder in his eyes with a sense of amusement. Kum, for a change was looking radiant. Yagya…it was all his doing. He had done what Astitva had asked for…Maya’s soul and eyes in Kum’s body and vice versa. Cleverly he had found the mid path such that there was no infringement of policies while Astitva had what he had wanted.
As the reality of the situation sunk in, he couldn’t decide whether he was happy or sad. Here was his Maya but would Maya be Maya without her lithe body, without those legs that walked on water? Without the skin that shone as bright as the snakeskin? Would he be able to love her? True, if he had her soul, he had her love…but still….
By that time, the ceremony was almost at an end. They were at the last part of the ceremony where Yagya was supposed to take his most divine form to bless the couple. Since Yagya would generate a light of a thousand suns the couples were supposed to look at his reflection in water; while seeking his blessings. The 2 couples stood up at one end of the Pool of a thousand lotuses, while Yagya stood at the other. The 2 men stood in the middle while their better half on their either side. Astitva glanced at his reflection and caught the other guy beside him looking at him. He was in for another shock. The guy looked like him and he himself looked like someone else…suddenly he felt all energy draining from his body except his arms. Oh God! What had Maya asked Yagya for?
So that was how Astitva’s arms married Maya’s eyes and soul in Kum’s body and Maya’s body with Kum’s soul went to Parikshit, who was every bit of Astitva except for his arms. As expected, it wasn’t a very happy union from any aspect. Yagya knew this but then didn’t they have what they wanted? What else could he do? He called the 2 couples separately and told them that love is different from passion. He wanted them to adjust to the “new” situation and learn to love and live with one another. He said they should consider themselves lucky to have what they wanted; another person in their position might have lost his life.
But then, despite numerous such advices and warnings later, things didn’t improve. The climax or rather the anticlimax came when Yagya found Parikshit (Astitva’s body) sleeping with Maya. He was angered beyond all limits and put a curse on them.
“You, you Maya who has known true love will never ever find love again, no matter what you do. So much so that, you will spend a lifetime looking for love and when it will come to you, you will run away from it and then wonder why you did that. And you Astitva, who had the courage to stand before me, me the Supreme Being to ask for just one thing, not to be separated from the one you love, shall never know what love is, when it will be there all around you. The two of you are sentenced to live with one another for all your future lives in longing but without love.”
D day arrived. Astitva was torn between his heart and mind. Hadn’t the Supreme Being promised him Maya? But if he had…there was no sign of her in the entire city. Where was she? The ceremony started. There were two “weddings” that were being organized at the same time. Astitva was so much lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even bother to look at the other couple. His eyes were searching for Maya and Yagya. He couldn’t find either of them. Still he felt everything will be all right. A vague sense of confidence and positivity was seeping within him. Since there were a number of “useless” and boring ceremonies in which he was to be a part of he decided to play a game. He decided to look at the eyes of every female present and see if he could spot Maya. Her face was a blur but what he hadn’t forgotten were her eyes and her smell.
He started looking around. As he reached the end of the hall he felt a tinge of disappointment, she wasn’t there in the crowd of onlookers. But wait…there were 2 girls sitting right beside him, one on either side. One was Kum and the other the female party in the other couple that was being married off. Since he could not look directly at the other girl sitting beside him, he glanced up at Kum. Just a glance. But what he saw made him look again. Was it his imagination or was it true? He saw Kum’s face but her eyes… oh didn’t they look so similar to those of Maya’s? He was sure his tired mind was playing tricks. He looked again…she was smiling, that pretty smile of hers…but then her eyes…they caught him off guard again. They seem to be saying…”Oh sweetheart, you have searched for me all around when Im sitting right beside you.”
Curiosity took place of wonder now. He was sure this was some game Yagya’s doings. He now looked at the other girl and was shocked to the last nerve cell. Why she looked so much like Maya…except those eyes…There was something terribly wrong with her. She looked exactly like what she looked when he had last seen her but something was missing…maybe the aura the mystic beauty that surrounded her. He glanced again at Kum and she was reading the wonder in his eyes with a sense of amusement. Kum, for a change was looking radiant. Yagya…it was all his doing. He had done what Astitva had asked for…Maya’s soul and eyes in Kum’s body and vice versa. Cleverly he had found the mid path such that there was no infringement of policies while Astitva had what he had wanted.
As the reality of the situation sunk in, he couldn’t decide whether he was happy or sad. Here was his Maya but would Maya be Maya without her lithe body, without those legs that walked on water? Without the skin that shone as bright as the snakeskin? Would he be able to love her? True, if he had her soul, he had her love…but still….
By that time, the ceremony was almost at an end. They were at the last part of the ceremony where Yagya was supposed to take his most divine form to bless the couple. Since Yagya would generate a light of a thousand suns the couples were supposed to look at his reflection in water; while seeking his blessings. The 2 couples stood up at one end of the Pool of a thousand lotuses, while Yagya stood at the other. The 2 men stood in the middle while their better half on their either side. Astitva glanced at his reflection and caught the other guy beside him looking at him. He was in for another shock. The guy looked like him and he himself looked like someone else…suddenly he felt all energy draining from his body except his arms. Oh God! What had Maya asked Yagya for?
So that was how Astitva’s arms married Maya’s eyes and soul in Kum’s body and Maya’s body with Kum’s soul went to Parikshit, who was every bit of Astitva except for his arms. As expected, it wasn’t a very happy union from any aspect. Yagya knew this but then didn’t they have what they wanted? What else could he do? He called the 2 couples separately and told them that love is different from passion. He wanted them to adjust to the “new” situation and learn to love and live with one another. He said they should consider themselves lucky to have what they wanted; another person in their position might have lost his life.
But then, despite numerous such advices and warnings later, things didn’t improve. The climax or rather the anticlimax came when Yagya found Parikshit (Astitva’s body) sleeping with Maya. He was angered beyond all limits and put a curse on them.
“You, you Maya who has known true love will never ever find love again, no matter what you do. So much so that, you will spend a lifetime looking for love and when it will come to you, you will run away from it and then wonder why you did that. And you Astitva, who had the courage to stand before me, me the Supreme Being to ask for just one thing, not to be separated from the one you love, shall never know what love is, when it will be there all around you. The two of you are sentenced to live with one another for all your future lives in longing but without love.”
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