That pinch of salt in curry !!

It was supposed to be my last meeting with her. It wasn’t that i was going to border or something but that was the general feeling my mind had perceived. Neither was i willing to think of this situation in any other way because even though it was just a perception of my mind deep down in my heart i knew that it was very close to reality. I meet her at Kanjurmarg station and although its a slow train station the place is always busting with people. Probably the station wouldn’t even exist if it wasn’t for IIT Bombay. 

And it is the closest connecting station to Powai. I saw Powai 5 years back when i came to Mumbai for the first time on my own, and had dreamt of living in hiranandani complex since then.  She was a colleague of mine at my first job. I don’t quiet remember how we manage to stay in touch with each other once both of us left that job. But somehow we did held on to that string, which at time was as thin as thread.

Being from a Punjabi family the only apt way for me to give her a farewell was by hosting a dinner for her, and it was for this purpose that we were heading in an auto back to my rented 14^th floor apartment overlooking my office which was just a walking distance away.

“So this is why you get time to cook?” she asked.

“Oh come on!! Cut that weird American accent one me... i know how crappy your English is.”

“Achaa!!... then you need to find a better excuse for avoiding this question”. She replied

“I am not avoiding anything, and what would you do now even if I did tell you?” I said.

I noticed a small hint of disappointment and her smile shrinking.

“but yes... this... this whole set-up.. this everything you see around me allowed me. And it is not a big deal.” I replied

 

“to live i need to eat... and to eat i have to make...whatever i can” i added

“you really need to work on your emotions young man” she replied and laughed.

“and you can laugh all you want when you will miss this home food out there” i said

I never realised her importance in my life all the time when she was around. Some might say that i did acknowledge this fact but couldn’t convey it. Some might even say that i didn’t convey it because of day such like this. But if you ask me i did convey it sometimes. Although it was tough initially but with practise and few more attempts it did came out the way i wanted it to come out.

But somehow between my chase and her running things just faded out. There was no specific reason, there were just these two things. One pulling me and other pushing me, both in different directions. and then one day she asked me “What am i in your life?”. And i had no answer. In that push and pull i guess i was lost.

“my god you do know how to cut onions.” She said leaning against the kitchen door as if teasing me.

“i hate backseat chefs....but i might make an exception for you, coz i don’t get many guests here.”

“really??... i might not like you making an exception for me.” She replied

 I understood the sarcastic tone in that sentence.

“I wouldn’t  say that if i were in your place, Especially now that you would be flying to America in a few weeks time with that crappy accent of your” I said so to dilute the situation with a wipe of fun.

“FYI it’s not America it Canada... waterloo, Ontario Canada my friend, and i bet your cooking wouldn’t be any better than my accent.”

“Then why dont you help me with the salt in fish curry for starting?” I asked her with an open jar of salt in one hand and spoon on the other. And instantly she knew that I had lost the argument then and there. She added a pinch of it in the curry and somehow it tasted.

“Perfect!!!... Now get out of that stupid apron and lets eat... I am hungry” she ordered.

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“Mr Lewis, you do cook better that my expectations” she said after taking a few bits of fish curry on dining table.

“Yeah?? don’t like it too much, I know you are going to miss it in ONTARIO CANADA....hahaha” i laughed.

“Itna bhi miss nahi karugi....” i again sensed a hint of sarcasm in her voice. I just couldn’t understand why.

She helped me wash the dishes with a promise that in turn i would help her get a Taxi. But this sarcasm of her kept poking my mind.

“You know once you had asked me ‘what were you in my life?’ Sometime back..” I asked her while we waited for a taxi.

“Yes and I also remember there was nothing that you said back then” she replied.

“Because I didn’t knew it back then”. I answered.

“So do you know it now?” she again asked with an attitude in her stance and sarcasm in her voice.

“Yes” I replied.

“And what is that?” she asked with a blade of sarcasm which i felt she had perfected since last time.

I answered “that pinch of salt in curry”.

Remembering that you are to be Forgotten....

A walk towards shadow.

Ek arsa ho gaya tujhe mohalla chode,

Aur hum kha-ma-kha zamane se rushwahiyat nibhate reh gaye.

(readers discretion advised)

I don’t know whether it’s the right title to what I am willing to write here, but it is just something that I had to do. Not because I hadn't posted anything here for a while, nor because it feels like ages that I hadn’t written anything deep down from my heart but because something had happened that triggered this idea. In the frenzy of my book and my super cramped up life i had almost forgotten the reason why I initially started falling in love with writing.

It is said when you are able to explain everything in words it’s time for you should have a very high level of discretion in you writing. Here another attempt by me to write something without any discretion in thoughts but in words.

“Its has been a long time, it’s not like that everything has remained the same, but even if I did say so it would be a lie. In a way a lot has changed and in a way I am still trying to change a lot. Not only around me but within me as well. If I say I had forgotten you it would be a lie flat on my face but yes I have become habitual of not remembering you. There is no way in which I could ever wipe you out but keeping you in my mind has now become more of an estranged memory. I have tested your memories against the flow of time, and to be honest they haven’t decided to let go of me. There is no possible reason for me to look back to see myself in you. I also don’t want to stare back at what you where in me. Because there would be a bunch of lies and some of them are the ones that even I don’t want to accept.

I know there would be a hell lot of people not happy about me writing this and posting it but they are people and their views are up to their discretion. I don’t want to be arrogant with this also but there are few things that you should not do. And then there are some that you just can’t stop yourself from doing it. This is one of those things.

Its is not that I miss you but even though I trying so hard to forget you either there is something in me that isn’t allowing me to forget you or there was something that you have left behind in me that is not permitting to forget you. But i am very sure that it’s not love, but something way beyond that. You already knew what i mean with that. But this time it’s neither about love or nor about memories.

I remember how I realise that i love you. If I say that it wasn’t planned would be a lie as well. Because trying to manage a movie on a working Tuesday is next to impossible. But that the beauty of surprises. It is something in which I became an expert with you being around.

In an empty multiplex theatre watching ‘Rockstar’ I saw you sobbing in tears after watching Jordan meeting a sick ‘heer’ in a Prague. You see that vulnerable and fragile look in her eyes indicating her surrender and you although equally vulnerable within tries to put up a stronger self up front. She hopes that it’s in your hug is where she is safe, where as you want your hug to be strong as well as comfortable enough so that she could sleeps in them without a second thought.

And once you gave your soft delicate hands in mine I was sure to hold them as long as i could.

But why now? Why are these things coming back? Coming back into my mind. We promised each other to walk back without turning back. So why is it that i felt like tracing your footprints on the shadows of sands dunes? Why is it that even without the faintest of idea about how I am going to end it I am still kept writing it? People say you don’t look back because it’s not the way you are going.

Because something had happened, to a friend of mine, in her family. The biggest loss is the loss of life. Especially when you know that person so well that really takes more than once effort to convince you of it. I don’t know how to exactly frame it to you but it’s not about it.

It’s about one of those feeling that you get when you see a person in distress and think of the people that you care then. It not about love, or compassion, or old time sake wishes. But it’s about caring. I know  very little of you, I know that you are strong, i know that you want to be tough, I also know that you want to be ignorant about it as well as if you don’t care anymore.

I also wish that I could give you back what you expect from me with this behaviour of yours, but my conscious just doesn’t permits it. A friend of mine lost her relative but to my surprise you were the first person to come in my mind out of worry and care.

Strange na.....

I know a lot of my friends wouldn’t like me this posting here, some might kick me, swear me and some wouldn’t give a damn about it. Its isn’t that i am walking back, its just that i want to know that from the point when we decided to walk without turning back you just lost me and no one else since. I had made a promise to stand with you in your bad times if not in good once. Because i know very few people stand with you in your tough times. I had made a promise to be one for you. Not to do anything or to say anything or to understanding anything..... but just being there.

Just making one soul into two and just being there.... thats it.

Sometimes just being there is all that matters. I don’t wish to be amongst those many people who have that one soul whom they hate. A soul that was once a part of them.

There is no super high expectation that has driven me to write this but i guess its that something that is left in me by you that is fuelling me to say this question.

How are you? I just hope and wish and pray that your family is alright. Especially your mom and dad.”

I had promised not to give-up, and I am still living by that promise in every walk of life. It is this promise that is making me to ask you to get in touch with her with only the above said question. Without a single word less if not more.

 I hope all my friends would forgive me just this once because this walk back to present is not for a stupid reason.

Buzdil nahi hai hum, jo piche mudh ke dekhe...

Hausla chahiye saaye ki zimmedari banne ka...