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Oblivious Shift


R!P Takes off.
Whooooossssssssshhhhhhh!!!

The thread of love : His and hers

It had been a hard day, exhausted and torn, he returned home. With the creak of the door she got up. He couldn't still himself. A forlorn day without uttering a word...extending well into the dark hours..he was trembling with dread and fear. Tear swollen eyes, tired steps, heavy breath he needed her. The mind was tormented by thoughts.
Were these haunts, dreaded warnings, signs of fate? The thoughts clouded him and the slowly arose .. guilt. Was it all his fault. Had he murdered his own … had he claimed a life? How could he live with the pounding guilt in his heart? But
What else could he have done? What else ... The eye lids seemed too heavy with tears. The heart had been broken, the mind clouded.

She came towards him; he could sense her smell, her touch, her feeling.
Still out of his mind, he took the glass of water she extended. It was cold.. She was cold. And that was when he realized, how it could be. How could she be... Numbed by her touch, his body went still, eyes content and relieved. He didn’t dread the end as much as the life. The broken thread hung from the wall. The police knocked open the door. He was lying there. Cold. Water spilled around him.

A dead body was found in ' ' at ' ' nagar. According to police claims, he was a labourer at ' ' factory. Doctors say that no signs of a conflict were found on his body and the cause of death has been established as heart attack.

In an unrelated incident she was found dead in the civil hospital. Her body has not been claimed. Mr. ' ', police in charge confirmed that she bore a child and a case of foeticide has been registered against the doctor.

And I turned back to find her gone..

Nothing grieves more deeply than one half of a great love that isn’t meant to be.
- This Year That Diwali

Let me take time a few years back - Rohit - a little boy of ten. It was the evening before Diwali, And I was dressed in full pomp and show for the festivities of the night, enthralled about buying crackers with my own money as it was called. But, It was not to be.

Standing in front on the scooter, the breeze blowing away my newly starched white kurta-payjama, pockets stuffed with two hundred and seventy three rupees saved through the year, I was joyed by the idea of crackers. As we were nearing the factory outlet ( where it was cheaper to buy crackers) , my heart already brimming with self elation was just short of exploding. And with a screech of the brakes, we reached the factory. While dad was talking to the owner-adding to my irritation-I saw inside the factory.

And there she was - about my age - wearing a soot-blackened gown carrying the crackers on her head. I felt a sense of disgust at her, growing by the second as she came nearer. Her eyes were rooted to the ground and she seemed deeply engrossed. As she came towards me, I felt a revulsion, a deep ... and then she stumbled over a stone and fell down. I just stood there. It was not a fall of seconds, It engulfed an ocean of time. I felt an endless fall into oblivion. It was as if I had been paralyzed into the scene. And she looked up towards me..those eyes, It was as if I could feel them. Stoned by a day's work, empty, thoughtless eyes. And then a fear, the fear of guilt rose in me. And she seemed to fall into eternity and so did I. And when I could not look into those eyes, I just turned away towards the soothing silhouette of my father. The fall evoked a shrill cry from uncle at the factory. Resentment in his eyes, he turned towards the workshop. I just stood there, thoughtless. She was not there. We had the crackers and left. But those eyes remained with me..and remained a feeling, perhaps the first sprouts of l....

I just deep stuffed those two hundred and seventy three rupees into my pocket. The next day I enveloped those and kept them away..

Those eyes have been with me all these years and are still with me. And this year, I was there with my young cousin and I heard the thudd again. But this time also, I just looked away.
Perhaps, I am more practical now.
Perhaps, I am mature enough to realize.
Perhaps, I am ...
Who am I fooling, I just don't have the strength, the courage. I just don't .

The reflection is the stare ..
The mirror leaves me bare ..

4:50 AM
I am standing in the front of the bathroom mirror on the second floor of Govind Bhawan, a residential hostel for students, and then ...



Today had been as uneventful as any other day in the sub-average life that I have been leading for more than twenty years now. But now as i reflect upon ..
....6:30AM
The slight slit in my room's sole window lets a beam of sunlight in .. cribbing about it .. forced to get up at a time only dogs and watchmen and nerds and fitness freaks and gaming freakos( that a lot, even I am amazed ) are awake .. I blast it back and look around for the chaddar to block the fuckin' ...
....7:00AM
The water starts filling in me, I am choking, I cannot swim, I do not think this is the end - I know it is ...
Shit, the whhhish of the news paper slipped under the room, I want to know what happens next in the dream. God, I am un-subscribing the newspaper first thing tomorrow.
Back to sleep .. And .. Sheah no beautiful baywatch babes for me .. I just die in the dream too.
....7:30AM
Thud.Thuddd..Thudddd. Ohh.. what
And a voice reminding me that I have no right to a night's sleep with classes to attend and submissions to make.
I accept the truth and scratching my head, get up to the bathroom which is already brimming with the olfactory pleasures and the visual delights to wake you out of your painful slumber. Slowly chewing my toothbrush on the shared washbasin, oblivious to the time I stand thinking nothing .. nothing at all. It's like a cerebral vacation most mornings for me...anyways back to the room, I am tempted by the towel and the soap case to go for the bath, but the watch completes the dilemma and I again decide against the long awaited bath. Stuffing my bag with the bare essentials of class - a newspaper, a novel, a pen and some half filled sheets. I run to break-fast at the mess - the most aptly named building I have witnessed. Pushing down the throat a few pieces of bread moistened partially by the saliva and partially by the milk, I leave for the department...
....8:00AM
Classes ... Classes ... Reading ....Classes ... more classes ... ticking clocks ... still more classes
....1:00PM
Yeah, Classes end. for a while though, but the hour long break is beloved..and even the mess food.
....2:00PM
Classes ... Classes ... Reading ....Classes ... more classes ... ticking clocks ... still more classes
....6:00PM
Canteen samosa chola fills my appetite and a coke thrust upon it induces a desire to doze off there .. out in the garden itself. But I muster the strength to go to my room. Sleep follows shortly after chit-chat on the net and some worthless reading.
....8:50PM
Thudd..'Mess chalne hai kya.?'Goodness, I do not want to miss my sweet dish..running off frantically I reach the mess and after some gobbling down the food, The Dish is there. Pleasure, even for a second is desired. In fact, true pleasure deserves only a second and no more.
....2:00AM
After a movie, name cannot be discussed here, neither the contents, mid night snack and bakar, I am back to the room. Orkutting and internetting are to follow. Accompanied with some Counter Strike - Which i sadly can only spectate - ., some cribbing about this and that and some shantaram - the novel am reading these days A look at the watch suggests 4:30 AM. Realising that everyday is the same...I go for a relieve to the bathroom - fondly referred to in our parts as hagga...

....4:48AM
Standing in front of the mirror, Disgruntled with yet another day of my wasted life..ohh what is it in the mirror. The reflection .. Is this life reflecting on me with the wings spread out or the apparitions .. have i all say- gone mad.I can sense some movement..the face is not there..a faceless beast about to attack me from the behind..what .. huh who ... and the power cut .. godsend !! I knew it today was going to be different . See, now whats happening . Arse , This is not the time to reflect upon your life and say fancy one liners about it. turn around and run. Quick you moron...its coming towards you .. It's ....

The dreaded pigeon flies off ... leaving me with the truth .

My life is ordinary

I do not fear death, it's the seconds of conscience before it that haunt me.

This photograph has been taken seconds before i jumped off the cliff.




An account of 'the seconds'.

a thousand feet : His words still echo in my mind. Today is the day I realize the mirror has broken and I witness the other side of the wall... gloomy and dark instead of the reflection I used to adore.
'This is true, I am. What she told is you is probably disturbing and heart breaking for you. But for me, you cannot even imagine. This is not the way, i wished to unfold before you, Son. '
Shattered images from the past fly before my eyes and i can see, and make sense. Why did it happen, I do not know. After all these years, why now? No one to quench the thirst, no one to stand beside me, no one to say m......, this is what i have with me now. And i adore it. Atleast, I die with a name...the name.

a hundred feet : Running fast... running for life… I keep turning to see… is it coming? It’s a desert… far reaching mounds of sand everywhere I see. It is like running in empty space. I can feel the sand slipping under my feet. The haunting yells of wolves on the look out for a prey. The voice of the night… humming constantly in sand intruded ears. I can almost touch the thud sounds of feet catching up. Sudden pangs of fear rise and fall in my heart. It seems my heart would pop out any moment now. And yet I keep running… on and on and on. It seems destiny has resolved my future with a prejudice, rather a vengeance.

'The devil pounces upon me
On my soul he feeds
In chains writhing with pain
"What have I done?" I scream'

Are these hallucinations,am i really having pangs of self - realization before I D.., Is this a dream before i wake up. or is this the wake up.?
'It is not as if I did not try, but it was not possible for me to carry on. I hope you understand.'
Why should i understand.? Why should I ...

a ten feet : This is not the end, nor is it a beginning. To life, there is no end and no beginning. The unending journey continues ..... Lust, Anger and Greed have feint us into closing our eyes and heading to the blind well… the unending fall into the abyss of life.

This post is not a figment of my imagination - which itself is a figment of my imagination - and truly happened.
All stunts have been performed by professional. Do not try them at home.

lIFE - sTARING iN mY fACE.
I RAN HARD, TILL MY MUSCLES BURNT AND VEINS PUMPED BATTERY ACID. AND THEN I RAN SOME MORE. BUT LIFE WAS STILL BEHIND ME. IT'S IMPOSSIBLE, I HAVE LEARNT.

20 years back, sometime around 10:12 Am, January 15, 1986, in the small city, Rohtak, Began a journey, a dilemma, a life.

huh..huh ummm...

And today, 20 years hence, it's pretty much a similar situation. Life's staring me in the face yet again. But with a new set of challenges this time.During my previous encounter with life, I have learnt to walk, talk, behave (?), read - write (??), practically live. And yet there's a dilemma whether this is the life I have been granted. A cyclic repetition of states of mind, events.. Will the 'new life' lets call it x2 be as good as the first one was.? time will tell. I hope it will.

Yearning to find out how i gauge up against the normal, I am still to find out me. Everytime i see in the mirror i see something different about myself. Whether I have changed or i was oblivious to it before, i cannot tell. Maybe, i am not meant to know. Yet, i am sure, x2 will be very interesting if we go by what the last week had in store for me..

Now, Why am i here?

On my way to become an engineer, i realised that i had shifted tracks and stand at cross roads now. Engineering appealed me and art was my driving force. Now, as an engineer, engrossed in technology ( Reputation Sake ), the person deep inside wants an outlet for the artistic outbursts and leaves a sense of disillusionment. Yet, i thrive to put a foot forward in the harsh fields and found myself groping for expression.
Painting Writing Singing ( No Thats A Joke ).. Options again.. God how i hate options .

Anyways for a lazy, uncouth, response-fearing fellow like me Writing seems a pretty good choice. So, Here I Am..

PS
I do not normally look like the above pic...probably .??