a crystal bottle, a thousand worlds, a million shards

i wish i had a crystal bottle with sharp cuts and smooth curves. silhouettes of angles and bends, brilliance of glass, as fragile as astounding. stories untold, unseen held within, stories heard and seen treasured inside the glass mansion built with crystals of mind, body and soul to hold memories, hopes, aspirations, desires, anguish, torments, tears, laughter and smiles.  i'd look at it, for hours, a lifetime cramped into those minutes, a lifetime spent in those hours. every now and then, a ray of light would fall on it. caught off guard. amplified. reflected. dazzled. broken into brilliance of millions of shimmers. blob of illumination for sometime. lost into nothingness the next moment.
i'd save it. keeping it away from world and everything else. i'd carry it with me everywhere. i'd keep it hidden in the deepest corner of my existence. it'd be mine. whenever i wished, i'd take it out. flaunt it to acknowledgement of existence then stow it back into bliss of secrecy. it'd have a cork. stopper on all the tides. it'd hold an ocean in it. the cork would be tight. the ocean would be immense.
i'd shake it. a thousand jingles would come to life. i'd put my ear to it and all will be silent. there'd be whispers, there'd be prayers. there'd be promises, unsaid, hushed, forgotten. there'd be jokes, there'd be laughter, stifled, old, dead. there'd be shouts, there'd be songs, there'd be silence. there'd be clatter of rain drops, millions of them, abandoned by the sky, falling on a dark night, cry of sky's broken heart, opening up, a grimace of clouds, illuminated with a wave of lightening rippling through sky.
i'd open it and wafts would spill out. lighter than dreams, more inconspicuous than fragrances, more vivid than realities. there'd be smell of a lover, the scent of his existence seeping in through every pore of me as i lay next to him, smell of love, passion, reluctance, desire and ecstasy  there'd be smell of that damp room, as i sat listening to silence of night, smell of sea as tides laugh with each other, mocking my insignificance. there'd be smell of my mother, as i snuggle into her back, clinging to her dress, feeling soundless rustle of her shirt between my fingers, filled with dread, overcome with calm.
i'd look into it and the ocean will be raging. there'd be horizon holding blue of ocean and abyss of sky. the world and everything beyond. endless possibilities. orange of sunrise, gleam of light travelling thousands of miles, falling at my feet, seven colors fused together into one, silver when peeking from behind the clouds, black of depth of sea, darker in its silence than in color, there'd be color of your eyes, as you look away, lost in your thought. there'd be the world i'd watch from corner of my eye.
and then, i'd put the cork back. the sounds would stop. scents would descend back into oblivion, scenes would dissolve. strand by strand. and then, there will be nothing. just the crystal bottle. unfazed, intact, beautiful. i'd cork the world and all its brilliance into that crystal bottle, stow away universes and their secrets with one sweep of hand, discard deepest sorrows and biggest joys with a flick. it'd be mine to hold, and mine to shatter, into million shards, send it back to the smoldering furnace that made it, reduce it to specks of soil, mix it back with dirt under my feet, to unleash million more stories or break a thousand worlds.

read this. you'll feel better.

you can't know everything in the world. whatever happens, you'll die a fool
                                -Cancer Ward, Alexander Solzehnitsyn 

the title was for me. so before you feel there is a case of false advertising, you might as well skip this. well anyways, moving on...
yeah, life's a bitch. or maybe not. to be frank, its just easier to call it that. gives you a scapegoat. but then, its not all that easy. its just another thing, like every other thing on this planet. sometimes good, sometimes not. but the thing is, unlike other things, you cant run from life. so might as well live it well. or not, whatever.
in my life, there are things i want to tell people. and myself. and while it will be too scandalous to tell them upfront ( i am a scaredy cat and its too much drama, honestly), i am going to say it here. also, these are the things i feel i need to be told time to time. so this means i can come back here whenever i need a renewal of the lesson and feel better.

 1. death kills. everything else is life. and you have got to live it. and as much as most of us might have wanted at times, things like grief, guilt, disappointment or anger will not kill you. and you will have to live, unless you die ofcourse. and truth is, humans can live with anything. frankly, until death comes, they dont have much choice either. so its that living that every human wants to make easier. and its then when having someone to make things easier matters. ofcourse, you wont die without them. but having them might make just a slight difference.

2. life is hard. you have problems. turn around, someone's living through deeper shit than you are. this doesnt mean you have to seek respite in the fact that someone's slugging it worse than you. it means, stop whining and shut up.

3. talking is not a solution for many things, almost all. just talking wont get you anywhere. but sometimes, it makes enough difference to give you strength for that next step.

4. no matter how big problems others have, they are not yours. no matter how much you sympathize with them, you will still turn around and walk back into your world. no one dies over another person's problem. so even if your problem isnt as big as the next person, it is your problem at end of the day. and if you are worried, tensed, worked up or just plain pissed at it, its yours. just dont make it another person's. you are allowed to sulk though.

5. you might not ask much from life. you could ask very little. it could look like you are asking very little. but somedays, even that will seem like hard to come by. what are you going to do about it? live through the day and wait for the morning when it will again seem within reach. works. trust me.

6. you can be weak. there will be days when you will need help. you might seek it. you might expect to get it. mostly, its simpler to just ask for it. but some days, just one of those days, you'd fool yourself and wish someone would understand on their own. asking for it would be simpler, yes, but not the same. if you retract, dont be hard on yourself. you made that choice, live through it. you can. if you still go ahead and ask, dont feel guilty. you did what you had to. life moves on either way. so suck it up.

7. if you want to be happy, go ahead and do it. and i am not talking about silver-lining-and-sunshine-and-daisies-happy. i am talking about just-get-through-the-damn-day-without-biting-someone's-head-off happy, and frankly, thats all you need. and thats your personal fight, no one else's. do whatever it takes to make that happen. and if you choose not to do something that makes you happy, find peace in that. thats your only hope then cuz at end of the day, with all the fretting and sulking, you are the only one who will have to put up with the sulking bitch in mirror. might as well not piss her off even more. better for you ;)

8. perfection is a sham. there is nothing that fits everything. too good to be true doesnt happen. if its there, its true. and if its too good, smile. and look around. there's going to be a catch. there will be rusty corners, conditions applied, fine print- reality. it can still be good. but soon you will realize, everything good needs to be worked upon. you just have to see if you are willing enough.

9. invest in  yourself. sure, go ahead, make friends, help someone out, live with others. but not at your cost. amidst being the good person everyone wants as a friend, dont forget you are your best friend. take that one step for you, no matter what it is. go and work with mine kids and help homeless. but after you have done everything you wanted to do for everyone else, do that one little thing for yourself. i am not saying you are pathetically selfless. i am saying just dont expect someone else to do what you are doing for someone else. you have your reasons. others might not share them.

you are not a bad person, but then not many people are. you are just a little screwed up but then most people are. if you think about it, mostly, people are just too scared for themselves to actually worry about others. and these confused, scared, lost people form confused, scary, lost relationships with each others. once in a while, just once in a while, two people will be confused, scare and lost in a way to actually be confused, scared and lost together. but then that happens so rarely, relax, you are no worse than others. please don't whine :)

Integration 2012-ISI, Kolkata- Antaheen-Antaheen- an endless hope

(image googled. copyright lies with the original artist) 

Grey Kolkata sky goes as far as eye can see. Two cars pull in outside an under-construction building. Abhik Chowdhry steps out of the car, casually. Him and his team are following a lead on an arms’ haul case. This becomes the day’s biggest story. Face of Abhik Chowdhry adorns every TV screen as news channels rush to cover the story. In another part of the city, Ranjan, lost in his sensex fixation catches a glimpse of his cousin on the television, calling him to congratulate him on his big story. Lost in his own story, Ranjan is a guy who is one of the closest friends Abhik has. His next call is to a totally different part of the city, to a woman, Paromita or Paro, as he calls her, his ex-wife. Casual chit chat, a joke by Paro hints at his solitary way of life while her life looks happy with a career she is content with. In another part of the city, Brinda Roy Menon, an investigation journalist is intrigued by the story. With a desire to follow onto it, she calls cop Abhik asking for an interview. But conversation doesn’t go too well. Skeptical about sensationalization of a seemingly sensitive case, Abhik turns down Brinda’s request.

While all these people are happy about Abhik’s story, builder V K Mehra is bothered by the uncovering news as the site of case happens to be next to site for construction of his next project. Amidst frenzy of life that is running too fast, no one seems to have time to stop and think. But Abhik and Brinda, two young people zealous about their careers, have found a way to seek refuge from madness of the crowd. Every night, in a chat window, they meet a virtual identity that offers them comfort more real than anything real in their lives.  Unaware about the name or identity of the virtual personality, all Brinda knows is a guy- ‘ Boy in a box’ while all Abhik knows is a chat window named ‘ Raat Jaga Taara’.

Sharing nuances of life, Boy in a box’s and Raat jaga taara’s relation develops into a unique bond, incomparable with anything else. This comes as a respite from harsh realities of life that both these individuals face. Abhik, almost a cynic, comes across relations that run into inevitable doom of reality pretty often. His own cousin Ranjan da’s relation with his wide Paro stays on rocks. This is the reason that both these individuals prefer to keep their weird relation anonymous. What they share are little joys of life that are beyond realms of real name or true identity.

Paro, a marketing executive is an artist from heart. Her passion is photography but that’s part of what she does. Brinda, a colleague is one of Paro’s closest friends, ofcourse, besides Ranjan. Paro and Ranjan had a lovely relationship. But they live separately now. Marriage was probably over, but friendship wasn’t. They were each other’s confidants and most certainly, in need for each other. That is why when an offer for job in Mumbai comes along, Paro seeks Ranjan’s advice. Their relation is in a weird spot. Past complications make it difficult for them to open up to each other. That is why, as a rationalist, Ranjan suggests her to take the job and move to Mumbai to explore her career. But the truth is, neither of them wants to leave the other. Paro, especially, hopes one last call from Ranjan, a sign that he wants her back in his life as she fears her preference for her career in past had led to disappointment in their marriage and an ultimate fall out. V K Mehra hosts a launch party where he invites Abhik. Paro asks Brinda to come along. And this is how they meet each other for the first time. A rather cold meeting, they don’t seem to hit it off well. But after a rocky start, they warm up to each other Ranjan’s birthday party.

One night, in a casual conversation with his Pishi, Abhik realizes embodiment of endless wait when she tells him about her similar relation with an unknown identity. Life seems to get a little more complicated as Abhik realizes he might be developing feelings for Brinda along with suspecting his seemingly weird love for the ‘chat window’. Lost in his own world, Abhik is sure about comfort from his virtual friend, who too is developing feelings, although inexplicable, for the ‘boy in a box’. Both these worlds look ready to continue existing parallel when one night, in a casual conversation with Abhik, Brinda realizes extreme similarity between him and her virtual friend. Realization dawns. She understands he is the boy in a box. World seems better. She leaves an offline message for boy in box to meet her the next day, at a given place and time. But end is close. Brinda dies in a car crash. And with her, the realization dies too. Abhik wakes up to check his computer and find a message. Skeptical though, he is happy about the idea. But moments later, he receives news of Brinda’s death. Devastated, Abhik goes to comfort Paro who has decided to stay back in Kolkata and rekindle her relation with Ranjan. Next, he goes to the place of meeting but ‘Raat jaaga taara’ never shows up.  He waits but then walks away. Abhik, at end of the day, seeks comfort in his escape from reality but she is offline. He waits. The light doesn’t change color. He waves it away thinking she must have been busy. The night passes. And the next. And the next. And the next. Unaware of the fact that with one friend, he has lost two, Abhik continues to wait for her to show up. Every night, he gives himself a new reason. Every morning, he awaits the night, another night of wait with his endless hope.