Growing up

In a few months, I will be turning 27 and I wonder almost everything about this age of transition from young to adult. The concept of growing up is still an enigma to me in many senses. There are some situations, where I really don’t want to grow up, for example my hopeless romanticism ;). I recently had a long distance crush on someone and I was stupidly so not ready to let go. But, then I grew up a bit ;). One of my friend had shared a status on Facebook when he turned 25, mentioning how we are not cool ones anymore to hang out with our college going friends; how we are not so grown up to even hang out with matured family oriented friends of ours; how our neighbors and distant relatives just see us as a potential groom for some distantly known girl they know of; blah, blah, blah. In all senses it conveyed a nuance of messiness in this age of transition I am going through and I kind of feel, well not a lot but, a pinch of it, too. There are times when I could feel a conflict between dying adolescence and a domineering maturity, be it about making a relationship decision or a career related decision, egotistically saying not to become irrational and stupid. There are times when I could feel I wish I had not grown up. Strangely enough, the ambitious one in me has grown up into a more complacent one, a more compromising one. The journey of growing up has taught me so much more and most importantly I have learned to choose what I want to become. We all go through this, I believe. We learn to hide things from close family members, we learn to make new friends, to come out of a bad break up, and we learn to make ways for our once closest friends to leave from our lives. Life keeps on surprising us every now and then, and yet, we feel that we understand life better. Yet, we love the life more, not only because what we are left with in our lives, but more because of the journey we have just been through. It brings out so many promises, promises of what else could come further down this journey, who else we could meet there and how would we change ourselves, for better or worse. None of us knows. And, that makes it more exciting. Yes, I agree we all miss our carefree childhood, but it’s these promises which keep us going. Yes, we do want to look back, once in a while, and it makes us nostalgic, and I especially try to gather up strength from that to shrug off that nostalgia, stand up and walk again. We grow up.

She was cute

(This is almost a year old post, had it on my facebook notes, just putting it here too :))

Dunno why I'm writing it now, but all of a sudden, her bright face wandered through my senses. Throughout my undergrad life, I travelled for at least 20 hour long journey by train, during vacations, back and forth home. Taking the bus at midnight, from R-land to catch the early morning train from the capital, had been the way I went through. Standing at the platform, near the train, first thing would come to my mind, if there would be a cute companion in the compartment and I would scan through the seating chart. Well, it wasn't just me. Probably everyone of us would've done that. Unfortunately, yours truly never got to witness a good company. Rather, it had been horrible company, most of the time. I would read some book or just gaze through the window, or would lie down on my berth. Some of my friends would sleep through the entire journey.

Times flew by. I came to United States. Now, the train is replaced by the aircraft. But, the duration and frequency is probably the same: more than 24 hour long journey once a year, across the globe. The situation has become better though. The chances of horrible journey has gone down. There is almost always one gets to have a personal entertainment screen during the flight and I always utilise it fully :). I don't need a book now, and gazing through the window is of no use as the view is almost always the same except during take off and landing. However, chances of having a cute companion seating next has increased. Statistically speaking, by at least 15%. Yes, it's my own stat. I've travelled three times (to and fro) and I had "that cute companion" once, for almost half of the journey.

Her name was Kaitlyn, as exactly as I remember, and she was studing Art at some college in Chicago. Flash back. I saw her at the Brussels airport, in the same lounge where I was waiting for my flight to Chicago and all of a sudden, this thought came to my mind that what are the odds if she could be seated next to me. In a while, boarding begun. I went to my alloted seat, and somebody else had occupied that. Politely, I was asked if I could take his seat. I didn't have any problem in that. Next second, I saw her passing by the aisle. She went to the same row where I was supposed to be seated, and asked the same fellow who offered me to exchange with his seat. For a moment, I was like, "Oh no. Why did I accept this exchange of seat." He was with his kid so he didn't wanna move. He asked her to take his seat and I was thinking, if the vacant seat next to me is the same one he referred her to. Yes, it was. She came and greeted me. I was smiling, from the heart :). We chatted, watched movies, ate and chatted through out the journey. Eight hours, and I'm pretty sure that all the conversation is still fresh in my memorylane :).  Time flew by. We parted. Sigh. She was cute.

This is my entry to the Office of International Affairs' International Photography Competition

Title: Symphony of Expressions

Place shot: Kohlmarkt, Vienna, Austria

Europe: can never get enough of it! (I)

Revisiting old days? Probably not!

It had been four years since I visited this country last time. I didn’t learn to speak their language, last time when I was there, and that was one reason to feel alienated in a completely new world. I had been thinking, probably, I will be facing the same situation this time, but having another intercultural experience for past 3 years, should give me some confidence in getting accepted in this world. Probably, familiarity with the city I was about to visit should also be an added advantage in that respect. Life had taken lots of twists and turns in past four years. Last time when I was there I had comfort zone of Indian friends which I never came out of. This time, it was different. I was alone, and was on my own. And, it was actually for the first time, I was in a place without a comfort zone around. Yes, I was totally on my own. The experience had been extraordinary. I hope I will be doing justice to it when I continue forward.

Since the day it was planned, I had been over excited about the trip. I wanted to visit Rome and Salzburg especially this time. So, I decided to make plans in advance. And thus, I had bought the Eurail pass for the same. It was a business visit, just for five weeks, so basically I had just the weekends to travel around. I did not want to take week days off as well, just because the university was paying me for this short visit. But, I had decided to make as much of my weekends as possible. First weekend was a bit boring, as I had decided to stay around Erlangen. I had been in the city four years ago, and I knew a good deal around so was just observing if things had changed a lot. The Arcaden stood right there where it was, and the Turkish Kebab place, Mamma Mia still existed, and served those delicious Doner kebabs, but soon I felt like there was not much to explore and I got more desperate to get out in the wilderness. So, I made reservations for Rome for the next weekend. As the next weekend came close, my excitement kept going and going until I took breath in sigh. The day arrived, when I was finally to depart for Rome.

My trip to Rome deserves to be told. Yes I had been astoundingly proud to walk through those ruins of one of the greatest ancient civilizations. I had been astonished by the wealth and riches of the Vatican City, displayed in the architecture and aesthetics of St. Peter’s Basilica or Vatican Museum or Sistine Chapel. But before the journey began, there is a story to that itself. I had planned to meet up an old friend, after like 7 years or so, in Rome, but somehow his plan got cancelled and I had to decide if I am to go alone. For long time I had the desire to visit the city and nothing could have stopped me this time. The journey took off.

I decided to take a night train from Munich. While going to Munich, from Nuremberg, I sat next to a very pretty girl, but I couldn’t dare to talk to her. For all that one hour, I kept thinking how to break the ice, but she was so engrossed with her iPod, and I was so afraid if she would be willing to talk, I kept my mouth shut. My heart kept mumbling for some time that I should talk to her but I decided against it. I had one hour at the Munich station and I kept on looking for some Turkish place to savor Doner Kebab, and I finally found one. Yes, it was delicious, but not as good as Mamma Mia. At 9 pm, I finally embarked on the train. As soon as I reached my compartment and was arranging my backpack, I heard a melodious voice behind me, like wind chimes ringing into my ears. That was in German though. Throughout the moment between leaving one train, having Doner and embarking on my train, I had thought of a million things, and among those, my subconscious did have a thought if there are any odds I will meet the girl again, whom I sat next to while coming to Munich. Seriously, were there any? Faintly yes, I suppose. And so, I turned around and asked, “To Rome?” She was with her friend, and both replied negative. Both had to disembark in Austria. After getting done with my luggage arrangements, I tried to get involved in the conversation again. Then two other Dutch girls and an American boy joined us in the compartment. I took another breathe in sigh that at least there will be somebody whom I could talk to without interrupting the conversation. Four of us, other than the two girls I talked about previously, were headed to Rome. So, yaay. In a moment, I broke the conversation of Austrian girls again, and this time I could get a decent look on her cute countenance. Suddenly something struck me in awe. I had earlier described that the odds of meeting that girl were very faint, right? And, luckily the dice was rolled perfectly. It was her. I couldn’t stop my heart to smile. I didn’t want to. She definitely had an affectionate smile. And, indubitably she was one of the prettiest girls I have ever encountered in my whole life. Yes, the poet in me wanted to write a poem right then, but it would have been too much of hopeless romanticism, so I decided against it :P.

to be contd.

An urge

I have always been bad at reading. Rather, horrible. Even at writing. Not to mention, speaking as well. Though, I do have written some beautiful Hindi poetry, but rest aside, nothing puts a slightest bit of gravity to my persona. School life essay competitions had been rote based, which pretty much sucked. No body cared to tell me that I should read some good literary pieces. In fact, no body around ever did that, so I never even got to know that there is something apart from school learning, and the two-three odd Hindi newspapers we used to get. A television came to my house, when I was in 7th grade. And, then I got to watch some news or whatever movies Doordarshan would air on the weekends. My sporting life never came out of playing gully cricket, and as my parents or others would say, it was the reason I never grew taller :P. I really sucked at sports. Once there was a sporting event organized at my school, (and yes, that was the only one in the 10 years of my precious childhood I spent at that school) and one of the events were high jump. I remember that I ran from the mark and as soon as I reached near the rope, I couldn't dare to jump over. I stopped, took a breathe and slid under the rope :P. I should have been disqualified, but they forced me to try again, this time, lowering the rope a bit. And, yours truly reached the rope, stopped and hopped over. Yes, I was that bad in sports. Until, I was done with tenth grade and moved out of that small village I grew up in. Then, I started seeing a bigger world. I started broadening my horizon. Yes, I had missed a lot. But, I don't regret that. There is no point in doing that. My parents have done wonders for me to give me a blessed life. You wouldn't believe me, when I say that, my father has taken me on his bicycle 12 km to and fro, to my coaching place, when I had started preparing for engineering entrances. I never dared to even learn bicycle. Even today, I don't know how to ride one. Yes, that really sucks, and I should regret that. But I don't :P. I was a timid child, and very shy. One more funny incident I can share here. One day in school, one of the girls in my class was giving chocolates to everyone because it was her birthday, and I ran out of class, because I was too shy to wish her happy birthday. Yes, that also sucks, but probably the environment I grew up in made me this. In school, we boys were punished to sit beside girls, so that we don't disturb the class decorum. That was one reason, I started getting alienated from girls. And, added to that came three years of all boys schooling and then, further at coaching place, all boys group. Though, the seniors from my coaching institute, who had already joined some good institutes, had felt that we should also be given a chance to broaden our extra curricular skills at the coaching place. Then started UTSAV, an annual fun-filled event with lots of great opportunities to learn. There was the first time, I participated in a debate competition. I remember I was so freaked out on stage that for the first one minute I just mumbled and then I started reading the hand out I had prepared for myself. I probably was the sole weak point in my team and the reason for us to lose. But, I tried. Seniors were smart. They had realized that kids like me would try anything to avoid participation, so we were forced to participate by the fear of expulsion from the coaching place. I had tried to participate in extempore once, and I went on stage fearless. Stood before the microphone, and as I started my first sentence and glanced over the audience I was addressing to, my heart just sank. Not a single word came out of my mouth for next two minutes. I was just standing there, silent. There are few other incidents like these too. Only good thing I could get from those that slowly I was overcoming my fear to give it a try. But, that was the place which started shaping my persona. I made some truly great friends, two of them I can indubitably call my best friends, who have always been there for me however stupid I become. It's true, I do stupid things too often :P. There I started to read something other than the text books. That was the time when I had written my first Hindi poem, though I don't have any record of that, and I don't even remember any lines from that. Though, during my undergrad, I didn't explore much of that area, I did start blogging, and kept writing few poems now and then. I was very fortunate to have some really good friends who have been awesome in literary skills. So, that exposed me to some good piece of blog posts, some wonderful movies. But, after getting done with my undergrad, I kind of stopped following blogs or even posting myself.

Recently, however, I have come across a few amazing personalities, which has brought out a sudden urge in me to get back to follow their blogs, write my own. I hope I will start doing some justice here. 

क्यूँ तुम्हें खो दिया

खुद से, खुद के सवालों में मैं यूँ उलझा हुआ सा हूँ

कुछ पाने की कोशिश में कहीं खोया हुआ सा हूँ

एक सवाल जाने क्यूँ इतना तडपा रहा है मुझे

यादों के अंधियारे में उसका उत्तर ढूंढ रहा हूँ

जीवन के झरोखे का आइना बना कर, शायद

अपने चेहरे की मायूसी का मतलब ढूंढ रहा हूँ

यादों के भंवर में हीं मोती ढूंढ रहा था पर

शायद, किसी बवंडर की ओर रुख ले लिया

न चाहते हुए भी कुरेद रहा हूँ अपने हीं जख्मों को

डर भी है, फिर से डूबने का, और दर्द भी, क्यूँ तुम्हें खो दिया

अनजान राहों पर भी हाथ थामे तुम्हारा चला जाता था मैं

आग़ोश में तेरे बस यूँ हीं, सपनों में खो जाता था मैं

एक विश्वास था वो दामन, पर जाने कब, कैसे टूट गया

शायद शीशे के सपने थे, कभी किसी पत्थर से टकरा गए

साथ तुम्हारे हो कर भी, न जाने कैसे तुमको खो दिया!

My failures

Life’s never easy. It’s always been about survival of the fittest. Failures are inevitable part of our lives. It keeps coming and going. Sometimes, we pay a heavy price when we fail. But, in-turn it gives us an experience to learn. To learn from our failures is one of the most important lessons life teaches us every moment. The bigger point is that what we learn from our mistakes, we should be able to apply those.

Farthest down my memory lane, I recall that I had failed in English in first standard in school. In the academics, this was my very first encounter with a failure. Then, I failed in social sciences in standard fifth, I think. I failed in English again in standard eighth. I failed to reach my expectations in tenth board. I failed to do well in twelfth board. I failed to qualify for jee twice. I almost failed in physics in my undergrad twice. I failed to do good in sports at any level, however like and interest I developed. I failed to get a good job. At one moment, I had thought have I failed to make my career? What wrong choices have I made? I failed to get into a grad school. Yes, I was rejected by OSU, but later they got some new openings and then I was offered a place. And, yet again, I failed after entering in grad school. I was perplexed to see clearly if I had applied the things I had learned from my past failures. In my personal life, I don’t recall many such things, which impacted me the most. Probably, their impact on my career is not observable, but somehow they must have affected my persona, psychologically maybe. When I was appearing for my tenth board exam, my mother was fighting with death in a hospital. When she had acute blood shortage due to heavy internal bleeding, the doctors called for me to get some blood, but other family members didn’t even let me know the situation, fearing it might impact my exam. My father ran umpteenth times to many people, to the red-cross, to arrange for the required amount of blood. I know even if I had failed in the tenth board, my family members would have had sympathy with me. The other experience I remember is when I was in freshmen year at R and I had a crush on one of my good friend. Probably, she was the only girl whom I knew well. I kept on becoming stupid and desperate. That was one time when I was ignoring the lessons, I had been learning every day. One day, she bid me adieu. I had cried. A lot. It took me some time to get over her. But, I had learned a lesson to keep your crush away from friendship. I had thought I would not repeat it. But, I didn’t know that there was a fear in me, which had made me sick enough and if uncovered I will be that stupid again. And then, a day came when, I actually “celebrated” two failures; career as well as personal life. I fell in love again with a good friend. I feared to lose her. I did stupid things. She started hating me. I had thought she will hate me for life. I had cried. I had cried much more than I had in my whole life beyond infancy. And I was not even over with this shock, I had another shock. It took me sometime, to really understand what was going wrong in me this time. I tried to wake myself up and become better. I am proud of the feelings I have for her, but I have learned another lesson to lower my expectations. I needed a push in my life to get it going further, it came a hard way. I hope that these lessons, I will not, overlook again. I hope that, a better me will keep becoming better, learning from its own failures.

पड़ाव

वक़्त बेवक्त ज़माने की बंदिशों में

एक आज़ाद परिंदे सा एहसास,

जो पलता रहा कलेजे में बरसों से

खुल कर साँस लेने का वो साज़,

जीने की चाहत की तलाश में एक भंवरे सा,

ता-उम्र, फूलों पर भटकता हुआ सा अंदाज़|

ख्वाहिशें अपनी थीं, रास्ते भी अपने से

दो कदम इस ओर तो, दो चल पड़े उस ओर

मुसाफ़िरों की महफ़िल, मयकदे जैसी मंजिल,

किसी मुसाफिर से मुहब्बत में डूबा कभी दिल,

कभी उम्मीदों की परवाह में टूट कर बिखरा तो

कभी टुकड़े टुकड़े जोड़ कर संभला भी ये दिल

कुछ पल का साथ फिर वो कह गये अलविदा

यादों में उनके कई पल, बहुत रोया भी ये दिल |

पर कुतरे हुए परिंदे सा फड-फडाता, कभी गिरता

फिर संभलता, लड़खड़ाते क़दमों को झकझोरता

कुछ रंजिशें की, कभी किसी से कुछ फरमाइसें की

कुछ पल शौक से जिंदगी के पन्नों की नुमयिसें की

शायरी का मज़हब टटोला, मयकशी में जीवन भी घोला

ज़ज्बातों की स्याही से कोरे कागज़ को पहनाया चोला|

मझधारों की मौज में कभी डूबता,

फिर उभरता

कभी थमी धार के संग बहता,

कभी पत्थरों की ठोकरें सहता

हौसले फिर भी खोने न दिए,

सब कुछ हिम्मत से सह लिए

उम्मीद में बस इतने कि

एक दिन वो पड़ाव आएगा

जहाँ वक़्त भी मेरे क़दमों में

इक बार गर्व से सर झुकाएगा

एक आज़ाद परिंदे सा एहसास

मेरे ख्वाबों का आँगन मेहकायेगा

ऐ मेरे दोस्त

जीवन के हर मोड़ पर होगा तुम्हारा साथ

मैं डगमगाऊं तो संभलने को होगा तुम्हारा हाथ

राह में मिलते रहेंगे कई सारे पत्थर

झेल जाऊँगा सबको ख़ुशी से, तुम्हारे साथ

ऐ मेरे दोस्त, इतना खुशनसीब हूँ मैं

तुम्हे पाकर, जैसे जन्नत का मिल गया साथ

बस डरता हूँ हर पल, एक अनजाने से ख्वाब से

कुछ पल को भी कहीं छिन जाए ना तुम्हारा साथ

तुम्हारे बिना इस जीवन का कोई मोल नहीं

माटी का यह तन भी है अनमोल तुम्हारे साथ|

यादों के सुन्दर उपवन में जो कुछ फूल खिले हैं

उन्हें क्षण भर को भी कभी मुरझाने नहीं दूंगा

एक उद्दाग्र ग्रसित रोगी सा जो काँटे उगाये हैं

एक बदनसीब राही बनकर, उन्हें तुम्हे चुभोने नहीं दूंगा

तुम्हारी दोस्ती की जो अहेमियत है मेरे लिए

एक नासूर बन कर तुम्हे तड़पने नहीं दूंगा

ऐ मेरे दोस्त, जितना खुशनसीब हूँ मैं तुम्हे पाकर

तुम्हारी मुस्कराहट को आँसू में कभी बदलने नहीं दूंगा|

बस डरता हूँ हर पल, एक अनजाने से ख्वाब से

कुछ पल को भी कहीं छिन जाए ना तुम्हारा साथ

तुम्हारे बिना इस जीवन का कोई मोल नहीं

माटी का यह तन भी तो है अनमोल तुम्हारे साथ

It was past midnight. It didn’t seem normal. Through the dreary rhymes of blowing wind, there was voice coming along. Somebody was crying. I could feel it. He wasn’t just crying. He was deeply mourning as if someone endeared to him has passed away. I suddenly woke up. I had tear drops rolling down my eyes. It was me, crying in my dreams. Moments into the realization, I burst out into tears. I was missing her. She had left me a while ago. She was gone for good. Since then, it has become habitual. I cry like a little baby. I mourn and then I fall asleep. Ever since I had known her, she has been everything to me. That’s the fault of my persona. The ones I really like, it doesn’t take a moment to give everything to them. I don’t care if I might get just pain in return. There was a past, a frightening past, associated with me. It kept frightening me that I may lose her. I might repeat the mistakes I had done five years ago. Petty things, and her getting angry on those, kept worsening my fear. Yes, I was being succumbed to the neurotic sickness. I was getting sick to seek her attention. Since then, every little case like that kept on making me worse. I cried every time, to make her up to talk to me. She kept on ignoring me. It was in her nature, which I could not understand, because I was sick to ignore the facts. And, the fear kept mounting upon. Things kept on worsening. We broke apart, for a while. A small ego clash! I was hurt. I knew it was my fault. I accepted it as my fate. Her kindness gave me one more chance. This time, I told her something, which I had been hiding for long. I wanted to ask her to marry me. She got little angry though. But, my neurosis was on hyper this time aided with my ugly ego, I did things which broke us apart. It was over. She is gone. I miss her. I cry. I mourn, every night, every day. Don’t know, until when I’ll realize what I have done. It was my fault. I loved her. I feared to lose her. I didn’t tell her. Probably, I expected her to read me. Probably, I could not read her. The only thing left in my life is mourning, for now. Can’t say when this phase will be over. I will miss her. She won’t. She will hate me.