Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Half a cup of tea -4 (Atharv @ 21)

( 6 months before meeting Tinkii)
When he was born things were different .No cries in the labor room , no waking up in
the middle of night to bug his parents . Thats How he got this name Atharv. Tharv in sanskrit means something that is unstable prefixing an A makes it the opposite “stable” .And here he was 21 yrs later hoping in the pubs at the new city he had landed into. Had grandma been alive at the moment she would have rechristened her to Tharv. If there was some word to describe the fellow it was “canvas fucking procrastinator” . He was a professional artist who entered into realms of modern art which he proudly hung in his 1 and a half bedroom apartment at chembur . Professionaly he was an art director for a media house.Why he decided to be an artist is another story . Procrastinator is a tag attached to him since his school days he wouldn't complete the homework and assignments which he thought useless back in school . So on one such occassion to rescue his hands from the wrath of a blaster cane , he participated in one drawing competition and emerged as the artist numero uno . That was the day he decided he'll take up this canvas fucking job as his career. Back in his senior school days , when puberty was playing with the hormones of the body , the artist in making was working hard . He had sketch of every beautiful gal in his school with and without clothes . He was a master in making the nude sketches and was in much demand with his pals .And parents thought the boy is talented. After finishing his school he went to study fine arts and graduated with “ flying colours “ . Every graduate of fine arts passes with flying colours for that matter.
Atharv was the only son of his parents . Everybody at home wanted him to be a Doctor.But he could not think of messing up cadavers with the scalpel . “artist are noble than doctors , doctors get life to someone little less of it , and artist get lifeless things to life” he would say always after screwing up in his Pre-Medicals. Only his mom could feel proud of an artist son . Though his father beleieved he was still a kid and it will take another decade when he realises his potential and moves to something productive .His dad was a govt servant working in a bank like most of the indian middle class people.
Now at 21 Atharv was living out of his home for almost 4 years and 7 months .
First four years graduating and seven months into a job as an Art director . He would miss the greens back at home. often at weekends .He would stand at the balcony of his home early in the mornings which gave a view of high rise buildings and yellow and black taxis raging on the flyovers . He would stand here and feel the chill of winters and used to mention it to his roomie “ The patio is good for nothing , no wonder modern art is appreciated in metros , for the beauty of nature can't be appreciated by those who haven't seen . We always appreciate the things here which belongs to us “ he will shut the door and switch on travel and living on his TV his favourite channels to watch on.
He had small hands with sharp fingers , perfect for holding paint brushes though small for a man of 5 feet 8 inches . He had a robust personality with broad shoulders , upright structure jet black hair cut short like military cadets . A clean shaven guy who was often seen in the rags for a jeans and plain kurtas like most artists in town . Though he was much a fashion honcho who will not hesitate to spot monocolour shirts from any colour in spectrum with any rock n roll figure on them a real digger for music he was .

P.S Typos i know i suck at typing on my archaic keyboard

Monday, December 29, 2008

Half a cup of tea -3 ( Reverbrations )

It was still a perfect winter of hills.I was puffing black smoke to my lungs.I sometime
feel guilty when i smoke.For fucking my lungs and polluting the clean foggy greens with the black soot containing chemical conglomeration of death or may be pursuitless hang.
With half a cup of tea and a half smoked ciggarette i was looking at the green hills in front of me.The same hills which symbolized optimistic romanticism were sort of standing like renegade of any term which has romance in it . Still the air was fresh .And then i let out a shout in the silent hills “Eureka “ and i was taken back to the roads i travelled once .

It was almost 7 hrs we were travelling in the same bus but still i didn't know much about Tinkii. Only two facts Tinkiii was beautiful , and i was may be slipping. “hey .. have you ever watched trainspotting “ i said abruptly waking her from slumbers so beautiful .
She woke up slowly yawning .”no never watched but did a lot. Neways are you into drugs” she asked like she really thought i was high on something or may be mischiveously ,giving a slight hint of smile. “ No i'm high on something else“ i said giving a sheepish smile . She took out a container which looked like cookieman , from her louis vitton and offered me ”Are they baked in LSD or marijuana ? “ i asked taking a cookie in my hand .
“ no my oven “ she replied with a sense of wit and confidence in her tone.
The taste of cookies was gud except for the buttery smell and a tinge of salty flavour .
“ i never had something like this “ . “ yes they are homemade cookies and the receipe is
not usual indian “ she said like she was some cookie baker in the town . “ i bet u must have watched chocolate “ i said taking another cookie out of the box. “ yes Depp is such a darling can't miss him in any movie Finding Neverland is my favourite “ she said licking a cookie like it would be Johnny Depp fried in olive oil . “ i bet he is on drugs , thats how he performed so well in Blow just like the real drug mafia” i said displaying my knowledge about things that were may be interesting to her.
After travelling for long our bus was finally taking sharp turns on the hills with a thick layer of fog surrounding us . There was a sudden halt and passengers stopped for the dinner . With the cookies in my guts i was not in a mood to have some food, but sure i
was hungry to talk to her som more . “ Do you precisely remeber when was the last time u did star gazing ? “ i asked pointing towards a sky with some patches of stars and some patches of clouds , and a crescent moon . She wrapped herself in a shawl and put on the hood of her sweat shirt . Raising her shoulders near her head she let her hands inside the pockets of that jacket . “ not exactly but i think , i will next time “ and smiled thru the hood in a chilly night . We sat in a corner looking up in the sky , showing each other constellations and silly shapes formed out of clouds . “Thats like a mickey mouse “ .“ This one looks like jerry “ "This is like popeye's biceps” She was like a kid who tuned into cartoon channel after a long . And i responded with a smile to everything she said .
“Have u ever shouted like your loudest in the mountains and listened to its echo”
I asked her pointing towards the mountain which were barely visible except the shining tops which were clad with snow in this season. “ I think i tried but don't know it was my loudest , give me a word and ill shout loud “ she said . “ well in an expression of archimedes eureka just shout out loud EUREKA , as you have found something” . She laughed for a moment and then cleared her throat , getting her both hands close to her mouth she shouted “ EUREKA” , was barely reverberating in the air . But was beautiful listening to her trying to shout and failing at that. Everyone was looking at us at that moment in awe and surprise. And there we stood laughing at each other .

Half a cup of tea -2 (Tinkii tsering )

As we settled in the seats of the bus . I noticed a blue nosepin on the right side of her nose , which was shining whenver bus travelled through a patch of sunlight.She was sitting on window seat. And i was sitting adjacent to her,on my other side was this peculiar person in his mid thirties who was not sparing a chance to look at this beautiful gal.After some 15 minutes of travelling and rambling about the chilling weather i asked her “Your name must be sarika “.
“ Not at all” she giggled .There was this peculiar innocence in her smile rather a laughter. As she was laughing i could see the pearl white teeth spaced consistently . While smiling her eyes became small from the corners and brown iris shined with a glow,her pink cheeks which are charcterstics of ppl from hilly areas protruded from cheekbones while she laughed. She was a fair girl with slightly brown hair with a streak of auburn hair which reminded me of Kate Winslet in eternal sunshine of the spotless mind . Of course the girl sitting besides me was not a punk , streaks suited her gracefully .
“ what made you think i'm sarika ?” she was laughing like i had just told her some joke
from the best jokebook in the world. i just turned to her and with an intelligent smile i started gazing into nowhere and with both the hands brought out in front of me i said “see uhh .. i have this habit from childhood , whenver i see someone the first thing i do is start guessing the name of the person . When i was a kid still in my kindergarten on my 4th birthday my dad gifted me a yellow bus. On the windows of bus were stickers with different faces looking outside . There were almost 10 different faces. I had name for everybody . A girl with spectacles named - Reena . A guy with curly hair - Madhu “
“huh .. so what about me that makes me Sarika “ she started laughing like she has been to a nitrous oxide trip .” Look I dunno the connection here but something about you had a feel of name Sarika , may be your eyes which are brown and bright” I said looking into her eyes for the first time in conversation not loosing the smile on my lips . She closed her eyes getting dizzy from laughing and just patted on the bag which looked like a Louis Vitton but was not “ guess wat ? you are funny ”. she said looking at me .
I looked at the third person sharing the seat on the bus , he was fast asleep and snoring by the time . “i'm sure , i'm not “ i said with a smile reflecting wit and my finger pointed towards the snoring Person.” Btw He's his highness George X1 sleeping in the glory of his kingdom” i announced like im some P.A of this person . I was again sucessful in raising her cheek bones to a smile.

“ My self Tinkii Tsering, and i'm a Tibetean Buddhist so that you don't have to raise eyebrows on my name “ She said forwarding a warm hand for introduction .
“ And i'm Mr. Oh So impressed and an Indian Aethist , ppl call me Atharv for simplicity “ i said marking a moment of humour and warmth. That was the first time i first felt warmth of her hand.

It was still raining and my hands were numb .With the numb hands i took out some coins from pocket for the chaiwallah and asked for an ultra milds and one adrak chai , thinking something may comfort the numbness , i wished it really could.


P.S cliche` all characters and situations in the story are fictious and have no resemblance to any one dead or alive or zombie .

Monday, October 13, 2008

Half a cup of tea -1 ( Journey back in time )

It was an afternoon of December , I was driving on the hills after a gap of 14 years,amidst the pines I gained some speed on the curves I was longing to drive . The wiper on the front was coming on and off
And I was excited to be in the place where I spent some 14 years of my life . I turned off the A.C and opened the windows to let the natural cool to calm my head.My destination was still some 100 K.m away.
Soon it started to rain.My eyes were sleepy so I thought of grabbing a cup of tea.There was no sign of any shop even after driving some 4 km or more .

A steep road, don’t know where it was going, was saying to me to take it on, and I did take the unknown road .Playing the melodies from Bob Dylan, which one of my friend gifted me on my 21st birthday.Back then she said “whenever u feel lonely come back to the hills , switch on the stereo of your car,stop by a roadside
Chai wallah and sip half a cup of tea” .
I was through her suggestion but half a cup of tea, but was feeling more lonely thinking all the good times we had here, giggling ,laughing crying on each others shoulders.
Talking on phone whole nights, waking on Sundays to take long walks on the plush green hills.Though we
Were no more than friends but no less than buddies.I used to tell her daily “I love you” she used to giggle
and say “you know you look cute when you say that”.Though saying that everytime was never easy.When you mean words its hard to say. Everyone knew that she was my girlfriend but nobody knew I was not her boyfriend as she never said to me a word of love.
And boy how I met her is another story. It was a crowded bus stand and I was coming straight from delhi, lot of luggage to handle and sleepy eyes. I saw this girl asking people “when is the next bus to manali?”
A beautiful face with an innocent voice .Generally I don’t talk to beautiful gals fearing an attitude of rejection. But something pushed me to say “if you don’t mind traveling in the same bus , which I’m going, there’s a bus right now”. She smiled with a hesitation and let a “thanks” fall from her mouth. Being a courteous man of manners I asked smiling “Any luggage mam ?”.She handed me a heavy bag and said “ I hope you won’t charge me for that “ smiling her best.” I won’t but one’s hardwork should be rewarded properly” I said.
And finally we were in a bus together, I never knew back then that this journey was destined to go so far.


P.S something close to my heart taking the shape of words