Pinku-Enchanted Life

Hi, I am off on another jaunt. Am not sure where but I think it will be the hills, have been daydreaming of the rains in the hills for the past few days. It’s a beautiful sight and the rainwater seems to wash away every worry, every problem, I am hoping it will do the same for me yet again. The last few days have been full of turmoil and I find it hard to concentrate on work or even hope for a better future without the bitterness of the present seeping into it. Anyways, just the thought of traveling has perked me up a bit and I thought I would share with you some fun snippets from my previous trips. Over heard in a train: “Iska paer kharab hai, uska pet kharab hai aur mera dimaag kharab hai” a man telling a flustered middle-aged lady who is asking everyone around to exchange seats with her since she has got a middle berth. The viewer’s view: “chaliye yahan khare ho jayiye aur neeche dekhiye, yeh Mussourie ka view point hai. Chaliye, chaliye aab aage chaliye” A tour guide shepherding hi...

The sky over the mountains was pink as if flushed with first love. She sat frozen to her seat enraptured by the sight, forgetting her surroundings even forgetting to breathe. A polite cough broke the trance and she had looked back to find an elderly gentleman smiling down at her. 'Its beautiful isn't it?' He asked, she had only been able to nod in answer while clearing the spare chair of her papers and books. She had offered the chair to him, he sat down and together they had watched the pink slowly turn into magenta to a deep purple to a despondent indigo. Only when the first star twinkled in the sky had they started talking. Rather he had asked and she had answered. She had been a little wary of telling a stranger that she was traveling alone, that she had fought and lost the battle for normalcy in her life and was now on her own. He had kept asking questions the way only those who have seen everything the world has to show can, brushing aside decorum and the need for pri...

It had seemed the easiest thing to do - walk into a courtroom, sign some papers and walk out of it free from the chains of my defunct marriage. However walking out had seemed so much more difficult, why had my legs felt so leaden as I made my way back? Guess it’s not easy to admit defeat and that’s what this moment was. Admitting defeat that I had failed to prevent my three-year-old marriage from floundering. What had gone so horribly wrong? Why was I not able to manage it better? Why was the person now walking ahead of me seem so dear and yet so distant? It wasn't that long ago that we had walked like this in a circle around a fire asking it to be the witness to a relation that was to last through seven births. It had looked like the perfect match, age gap not withstanding. Everyone had commented on how perfect we looked together and he had been really glad that our names too were so similar almost as if destiny had planned us to be together always. Though the cynic in me had even...

If you are reading this, you probably have some time to kill, are mildly interested in knowing what new worm has wriggled out of my mind or have hit on my blog while idling through some others. No, don't squirm, there is really no need to? The reason and subject of this particular post is not you at all, its me. I have hit on this medium of communication (largely self communication may I add) lately and am totally obsessed with it like all true converts. Its in the past couple of days when this blog was taken off the Indian ether (don't know if its true for the world yet) that I realised the extent of this habit I had formed in just over two months. And that set me thinking, I tried to understand why I write. Is it the need to write down what I feel, think or imagine? I could just as easily write a diary in the comfort of my home, why then do I wait for these little snatches of time in office and get online to scribble a few lines at a time? Look around furtively to see if th...

Bunty sat straight without a word and looked out almost willing herself to see the bus that must be traveling somewhere before them in the darkness. The others had more or less regained their composure and Neha was pulling Subir’s leg about the bus number. Subir had memorized the number of the bus he was standing in front of while at the terminal and it skipped him that they had got into not that but the next bus. He had been very embarrassed. They had just stood there not knowing what to do next when the headlights of another bus shone on them. The conductor had hailed them with a “bus miss ho gayi?" He had offered to drop them at the next stop. They had hesitated, between themselves they barely had enough money to get back to Delhi, if they traveled further up and then were not able to get to their bags they would be in deeper trouble. It would mean having to call up home for someone to come and fetch them. Neha the ever impulsive had taken the decision for everyone by hopping i...

Rohit was trying to balance Neha’s dozing head on his shoulder while trying to stretch his legs and gain a slightly more comfortable position. These seats in buses and cinema halls were always a torture for him. He couldn’t manage the feat and Neha woke up bleary eyed to ask him what the matter was, saw the look on his face and realized it was the “Mr. Long legs” problem. She pulled up his feet onto her lap, telling him to turn so that he was stretched out over her. He said it was a stupid pose but did it nevertheless since there was no getting away from an idea once Neha had got it in her head. She gave a triumphant smile and then promptly dozed off again. Her confident smile had been the first thing he had noticed when he had met her at Malika’s party. She had known no one there and Malika had asked him and Amit to look after her. However within a few minutes of being introduced it looked like they were the one’s who had been put in her care. She asked them half a dozen questions in ...

Bunty’s face could hardly be seen so wrapped was she in her layers of mufflers and cap. The others grinned whenever they caught each other’s eye. Having been born and brought up in the North they were much better equipped to handle the cold. Bunty came from the more moderate climates of the Eastern part of the country. Incessant rains she could understand and bear but this bone chilling cold almost brought tears to her eyes. For the umpteenth time she wondered how she had let that scatterbrained Neha talk her into visiting Manali in December. She looked around to see both the guys lighting cigarettes. It looked like something that would give warmth, she wondered if she should take a chance and smoke one. Inspite of herself she wondered yet again how the lean, serious, methodical Rohit could be so enamored by Neha who was a compulsive flirt and had to be upto some wicked plan at any given moment. She on the other hand had so much in common with him, their serious natures, zodiac signs, ...