Latest Posts by a-small-startup - Page 4

In the house of the dead man.

Today I had to wake up early. My grandpa's maternal uncle had passed away and my granny had to go. I have never met this guy in my life, but I was dragged because there was no chauffer available at home.

When you go to a house of a dead person, you expect silence and mourning. But it was not at all like that. Forget talking good or bad about the dead person. People were delighted that they were all meeting after a long long time.

I hear women buzzing around me. They were enquiring about everything. The new jewellery brought, the new property accquired, about someone's wife and yet someone else's child's marriage. The discussions were endless.

Yet the dear and near ones of the diseased were sobbing. And whenever anyone came accross them, tears started flowing as if only a switch was to be pressed.

This made me wonder how easily humans change their emotional state. One moment its gossip and the next moment its sorrow. How?

And on my way back my granny was complaining how many did not acknowledge her presence. The occation and the dead man are forgotton even before the body was taken. Human still remain the most complex being...

Thankful that I am not that Toy

I came home a few days ago, and today I decided to clear my old stuff. As I was clearing all the old boxes and bags I stumbled across an old box of toys. An old toy which was my favourite was on top of the stack. Old memories flushed in. I was so happy. The cleaning stopped in a jiffy and I started playing like a small kid. My little brother looked at me in astonishment. I dint care. I was on cloud nine.

But after a while, I got bored. The toy was back in the box and cleaning resumed.

That was when I realized how people nowadays treat each other. They get happy when they see an old friend but in a while get bored too. Then that person's contact no. goes back to the end of the phone book.

I have been there. A friend, yes still a friend; has always used me like that old toy still I expect amd keep waiting for him to come back and find astonishment in me all over again.

Faith.

Why am I so attached to strangers and detached from people who are mine? A question that has been haunting me for a while now. I have opened up so much to a completely stranger giving him the key to all my secrets making myself vulnerable.

Yes, my social network friend. We became friends a little while ago and now I have become quite close to him. Inseprable.

But having told him all my secrets I feel vulnerable. I feel weak. I do not know how to overcome this fear.

Having been stabbed in the back by people I have trusted, now I feel telling unknown people is much more safer than telling the known one.

I hope you wont stab me like all the others did. You wont leave my hand when I hold on to with all the trust I have. The faith; if shattered again then I would never be able to gain it back nor will I trust anyone ever again be it known or unknown.

I dont want to...

You seldom start a journey with hopes of being somewhere, excitement of meeting someone and the thirst to be around your people.

So did I want to be in a place where no matter how crazy I become it would be fine.

Because I was going "home" where there were "my people"

Mistaken was I that it would not matter.

Because I just was an obligation they could not say no to.

The excitement was one sided and so were the hopes.

Even before reaching I want this journey to end

My destination never to come.

I want to go back and never return.

This was a bad idea but now I cant turn back.

I dont want this vaccation

I dont wanna go "home"

The crying man in the train

I travel a lot, not because I love to, but because I have to. When I was young I used to travel from Bangalore (where I used to live at that time) to Palakkad (which is my native place). And the best of entertainment which I used to get were the rush in trains, the tea and samosa hawkers, the announcements, everything was just wonderful. And being young all I did during those journeys was sleep. (I am a person who can sleep anywhere, anytime).

After my fifth standard the train journeys all came to a halt as we settled in Kerala. And then after seven years or so, my journeys came back again. I went Mangalore to do my graduation and with that I started travelling a lot.

Sometimes I used to travel with my friends while otherwise alone. And during all these times my only company were my books. I always stay away from my co passengers. I don’t like talking to strangers for no reason at all. Most of the time, I travel by unreserved ladies’ compartments and hence neither is there any entertainment (As there are no boys) nor am I interested in the co passengers with whom I travel. But once I travelled by a general compartment and that is where I met the crying man.

That time I was travelling from Vellore to Palakkad and since there was no direct train I had to get down in Coimbatore and board a different train to Palakkad. I got down at Coimbatore and there was a connection train to Palakkad which left in just about five minutes.

My train was in platform no. 4 and my connection train was in platform no. 3 for which I had to go all the way down and climb another bridge and there was very little time left and so I had to literally run, still by the time I reached the other platform with my two heavy bags and my sling back the train had already started moving hence I had to board on to a general compartment.

And there I met the guy. I was sitting in a semi empty berth. A lady was sitting to my left, and on the berth opposite to mine also only a lady was sitting.

And after around 2 minutes or so a guy came and sat opposite to me. He was tall, dark, and was in almost his late 30s or his early 40s. A good looking guy for that matter. But what caught my eyes was not his charm but his moist eyes. Well the matter that he was crying was not strange as it is a natural human emotion. But what was strange was the fact that he was crying in public, now that is not common especially in a country like ours where from the beginning the boys are thought not to cry especially in public.

At first I just let it go because it’s a free world and anybody can cry anywhere, but he was just not stopping it. He went on and on, and he was wiping his tears with his sleeve and shirt and so out of courtesy I gave him my handkerchief. He accepted it and started wiping his tears and blowing his nose.

“Hey, are you all right?” I asked

“Actually…. no” was his reply

“I know I am a stranger but sometimes talking to a complete stranger helps the most"

“Maybe, it will…. But I … I don’t know you”

He was right why should he tell a stranger the reason for his sadness.

“Ya you’re right.” Was all I could say.

But after around five minutes he talked to me again

“I am sorry for being rude I know you were just trying to help”

“It’s ok”

My curiosity to know his problem was now at peek. But I dint want to intrude again. So I just kept quiet and waited for him to open up himself.

“Well my wife is returning today”

“Returning from..?”

Well asking that was a mistake because now he started crying again

“Why are you sad if she is returning, shouldn’t you be happy?”

“Well if she had left for her parent’s house then I should be happy but she had an extramarital affair with my colleague and now since he got bored with her she is returning”

“What??” I exclaimed

“I know it all sounds strange, but you won’t understand, I don’t even know why I am explaining my whole story to you, maybe because as you said, saying everything to a stranger may help or maybe even because there is no one to whom I could tell all this

I had a best friend in office, he was my only friend. And he used to come home a lot too because I used to insist, maybe that was the biggest mistake I ever did. He was a bachelor and he always wanted to have home food and all, so I thought maybe I could help.

His character was also not that good; he changed his girlfriends every now and then and engaged in a lot of one night stands. I dint judge him for what he did because it was his life and he could do whatever he wanted to do.

But I dint think that this character of his would ruin my family life. My wife is very attractive. And instantly my wife and my friend became good friends and I dint think there was any harm in it, I was not among those husbands who have problem with their wife having male friends.

And within no time my wife and my friend were having an affair, well they managed it well because I dint have even a slightest doubt about them.”

I had to ask, “How did you know then?”

“I came to know about it when my wife ran away with him. She dint even explain things to me she just sent me a text saying “I’m leaving” and just left”

I gazed in astonishment. “Well do you have kids?”

“Yes a girl studying in class II”

I dint say anything, as he was saying it so he can be relieved I dint want to make it awkward for him.

“Well it’s been two weeks now and my wife called me yesterday and said sorry. She is returning today, I am going to pick her up”.

I was amazed, I was out of words, a guy was going to pick his wife who left him for two weeks, god I have never seen a guy like this, I wanted to ask a lot of things, but again I was just a stranger...

Maybe he read my mind or something

“I know you would be wondering what a guy I am. Maybe she just felt it as the heat of the moment and now she regrets, or maybe worse he is not a commitment guy, I don’t know what happened and I don’t want to know either, I just love my wife and my kid and I want my kid to have both her mom and dad to be with her when she grows up.

By then his station came, he bid me farewell forever, thanked me for listening to him and went away. I don’t even know his name. And I won’t meet him for the rest of my life also, but he left me with a heavy heart. I was speechless. I have seen a lot of couples in my life, my parents, my uncles and aunts, and a lot others like that.

My own parents were divorced. They have two kids but they dint think of any such thing. In fact no man’s ego would allow him to do such a thing.

The crying stranger was one of world’s best fathers I have known.

Love.

I really dont believe in it anymore.

There was a time when I truly did...

I had thought that....

The butterflies I got in my stomach thinking about him

Me skipping a beat when I hear his voice

His one touch making me go numb

That one kiss that mesmerized me

I thought all that was love.

So wrong was I.

You truly do love the person

But for that person to love you back

With the same compassion, the same intensity

You got to be lucky for that

Bloddy damn lucky

My love is long lost in the midst of all those I gave it to.

I dont hope to get it back now from anyone anymore.

Coz in this world of mystery love remains solved to me

In a way I never hoped it to be

I wish I had known it all beforehand

I would not have loved

Atleast not the wrong person...

...

I have that one person in life to whom I can be me and still be confident that he wont judge.

Well thats what I believe everytime I meet that person.

That one person changes with time.

Sometimes it's you

And yet other times its him or her or her

Everytime I end up talking hours together

Not leaving the smallest detail of what happened in the day

I fear that he would get bored

That he would not feel anymore.

Today I could sence that he was getting tired of me being excited of the same thing again and again

Maybe I should stop because

Maybe I get too excited about petty things

But I thought he would understand that it means the world to me.

I never thought I would say this for him because till yesterday I had something else to tell.

Yet one more time people have proven that they cant be what they promise to be

And all those promises starts to flow with the rain leaving me all back to square 1.

Thinking what went wrong this time

“the overgrown quills on my legs didn’t stop him.

my period blood and the tampon inside of me didn’t either.

this was never about attraction. it was about dominance.

he was power hungry with an insatiable appetite. i could taste command on his fingers when he shoved them down my throat and made me vomit before he left my house.

no, i wasn’t desirable. 

so, let’s make one thing clear - he desired to control me.”

- smspoetry (sexual assault)

Home?

Everytime I go Palakkad (my native in Kerala) I have always felt butterflies in my stomach. I get goosebumps travelling there. Well thats the place I have spent the major part of my life in. Thats the place where I grew up, made friends and had fun. But that isnt my home. No it isnt. I know every nook and corner of the town. I know which way to go to and I pretty much know my destinations. I have a part of my family there but it has never been my home. Well where is my home I seriously do not know. Everytime I go there on my vaccations I feel wonderful. A feeling of content strikes me just by the sight of the station. The journey in the autorikshaw from the station to my home brings in an adrenaline rush that I am reaching somewhere I belong. This sunday I am going home. I am more than happy, I am eager, I am excited and anticipating the day to arrive as soon as possible. But then out of no where the question pops whether that I really belong there. Where that is my real home. Whether that is it or my destination named home is far far away and I am yet to find. I do not know and so does the question of home remain unanswered.

For me

What would you do if you wake up tommorow morning and realize that you are not that person anymore. That you have changed overnight. How would you react when you realize that you dont remember anything at all what happened. What would you do if you suddenly found yourself in a time span much much ahead of where you last were.

I dont know either. But somehow, somewhere I feel that I am lost. Lost in my own life. My own vicious cycle of finding myself. Being good to myself. Being the person whom I am expected to be. Whom I expect to be.

I am tired of deciding things in life after analyzing whether I am becoming what they always doubted that I would become. I am tired of the realization that I have lost track of myself.

I want to live for me. Decide for me. And do or dont do things because I want to or dont want to. I dont want to stop doing something just because maybe that is what I am becoming. I am tired of justifying everything I do. I am tired of fulfilling the expectations of others. I am tired of not becoming and sick of living for others.

I want to be me and live for me decide for me and understand me justify me feel happy for me guilty towards me and me me and me no one else.

I Wish for a Second Chance

Have you ever wondered how life would change if you just got another chance. Have you thought that if you could go back in time and say that one thing you ached to tell her so many times, maybe things would have changed between the two of you? Well I have. I think about her every single day and think how wonderful it would have been if I could’ve just told her how much I loved her. But now it’s all in vain. She is getting married today, yes she is and all I am able to do is think back and analyze how I missed the chance.

Parvathi; she was just breathtaking. She was tall, perfect curves, had hair that was flawless and her smile, worth a million dollars. She was the perfect girl. She was my junior in college.

On the opposite, was me. I was the most introvert person in college. It took me a year to get acquainted with the girls of my class; it was difficult for me to look at girls. Having studied in a boy’s school throughout my life, it was difficult for me to even be with girls. With friends, classmates and others I was able to talk to girls after a year.

When she came I just fell for her. Love at first sight if you call it. And when I told my friends they were surprised of course, but they wanted to know what made me fall for her of all the people in college?

“Well, I had a strange reason, she looked like Anne Frank.”

Yes, I loved Anne Frank. I loved the way she smiled, her charisma, it was just magical. And I always used to wonder whether there would be a person with the same charisma and then there came Parvathi. I dint care about what others thought. To me it was just important that she was the girl I always wanted.

She knew nothing about it. Well, by now the entire boy’s hostel knew that I was in love with her and then the girls in my class knew and I bet some in their class would also know about it.

I had to start trying to let her know how I feel. But I was scared, scared as shit. It’s not that I dint try, I did but nothing worked out. I went everywhere she went to, the cafeteria, the book store, everywhere but never got the guts even to say a simple hi. I would not even look into her eyes when she was passing by. I wanted to but I just couldn’t. All I did was stare at her beauty without her knowing about it. My friends started to pressurize me to tell her my feelings.

Finally, one day while we were having an inter-college fest I decided to tell her, I went to her class, told my friends to call her out, my buddies did so and then when she came out I went numb. I dint know what to say. So I stared with a very odd sentence on asking her regarding her residential area.

“Aren’t you from Vettur?

“No I am from Attipara.

Well they are places of complete opposite directions. Having realized about the blunder I just made, I lost all the confidence to talk to her and I left the place. That was a disaster, my first ever conversation with her was just the worst of all. My friends consoled me in all way possible. And then a friend of mine gave me an idea,

“Hey, why don’t you try the virtual world? Send her a friend request in facebook, get acquainted and tell her how you feel.”

That was a good idea, and so I sent her a friend request, but she dint accept that, after days I cancelled it and sent it again, nope this time too she ignored. It was not that she was inactive or something, she had in fact accepted the friend requests of other guys in my class but not mine. Finally, after sending her a friend request 5 times, I gave up.

My friends dint, they badly wanted to help me out. So a friend started trying on my behalf. We both used to travel by the same bus to college. The bus would first pick up the boys from hostel and then the day scholars, so everyday he used to save a seat for her next to me, and whenever she got in he would just offer her the seat, but every time she refused. And that was when I slowly started to realize that maybe she really had no interest in me. I still was in love with her, but dint want to try anymore.

One day, a senior of mine called me and asked me regarding her.

“I hear that you like this girl Parvathi, is it true?”

“Yes” I murmured

“Forget about her bro, I like her now and she is mine that is all”

“Excuse me, you can’t just tell me to forget about her, I liked her even before you. She can’t be yours.”

Well I was fighting for a girl who doesn’t even know that I exist.

“Well then, lets both tell her about what we feel and let her decide whom she wants to be with”

If I was able to tell her that, then even after a year and a half I won’t be just looking at her, rather she would have actually become mine. I was a chicken. But I just was like that, I couldn’t do anything.

This guy started doing tricks, she was sitting next to him in bus, they were seen along quite often, and a month or so later I came to know that she was with him and that they were both in love.

Today they are getting married. I wish I had a second chance that day during the fest to tell her how I felt about her, I wish I was not such a pussy and had told her about my feelings. I wish if only I could go back in time and fix everything up. I just wish… I just have never felt the same for any other girl the way I felt for her. She was my real life Anne Frank. I just wish I had done something. I wish I got a second chance.

Vikram from the coffee shop

I was new in town then, had not known what to do and where to go on a boring Sunday afternoon. I took my bike and went to the mall and the first shop that my eyes fell on was the book store. I went in brought “The Girl on the Train” by Paula Hawkins. Well, a lot of people had suggested that book to me and finally when my eyes fell on the book I couldn’t resist it. I brought the book and headed to CCD. I don’t know whether it was because of Sunday, or because everyone was bored, the coffee shop was crowded like never before. Thankfully I got a table for two, went in, sat down, ordered a cup of hot cappuccino and started reading the book. Just when I finished the third of fourth page, a guy came in and distracted me. I get very annoyed when someone disturbs me in the middle of reading. I looked up,

“Is this seat taken? The café is crowed and literally there is no other seat available so do you mind?“

A tall guy with great physique and just amazing eyes, a guy to whom you could never say no

“Sure, no one is going to come here”

“Thank you”

Well, I continued with my book and he got into his business. Surprisingly he too had a Paula Hawkins’ book in hand. “One Minute to Midnight” I was about to ask him whether he had read mine, when he noticed the book in my hand.

“That’s a good book, I very recently read that and trust me the suspense is good”

“Oh! I was about to ask you the same. Actually this is the first book of the author that I am trying and I have no idea how it’s going to be. I have heard great review about it from friends and so thought would give it a try.”

“Well, you won’t be disappointed, trust me. Even I started with that book of the author and this is my third. I just am not able to stop”

“That’s nice to know. Well if its reader certified then I am sure it would be worth it.”

In no time I realized that we had both closed our books which is quite unusual about me because I never stop reading and talk, otherwise I am very talkative but when I have books I just am absorbed in it. But this guy had a different charisma; he just made me do the unthinkable. We talked about a lot of stuff like books, other authors, how Indian authors have developed in the past few years, criticized a lot of authors and surprisingly both of us agreed on a lot of things. Normally my taste of books is bizarre, I don’t completely follow any author or genre, I just like to experiment new authors, genres and different styles. And when I say this to people everybody thinks I am weird but he was just like that. It was amazing to find a person like that. I had associated and connected to a complete stranger in no time.

We had talked for hours and after a long time I realized that I had to go. I did not want to leave him and go anywhere but I had to.

"It was great talking to you, but I have to go now, so see you again if possible”

“Oh yes even I need to be somewhere I just dint realize how time passed. It was great meeting you too.”

“Bye”

“Hey, I’m Vikram, by the way”

He extended his hand.

“I’m Razia” I replied and we both shook hands and parted our ways.

That was when I realized that we had talked for hours and dint even bothers to ask each other’s name. It’s been a year and a half now since this incident. Whenever I see that book I remember him, but even though I had been back to the coffee shop again a couple of times I dint meet him.

To be honest in a way it is good because maybe it won’t be the same if we meet again, because that one day that I had spent with him was wonderful. It was nice and I don’t want to ruin it with another meeting. Sometimes it’s just good with one meeting alone. If that person come back in your life and takes a permanent place it might not be the same.

Lost

He saw me that day, but just walked away. I looked at him, at his deep brown eyes that said a thousand words, sang a hundred songs. I saw that he still loved me but yet decided to walk away. If I ask him, he would say that it’s for my own good. But I fail to understand what is this good that I have without him. What is that he does not want to make me a part of his life?

I asked, I screamed but he just turned away.

Well I know all this just sounded a bit too melodramatic, but trust me it isn’t. Whatever he did to me at that wedding day walking away from me was just not fine. Yes, my fiance “the love of my life” just walked away from our wedding without even looking at me.

My beloved father who had been separated from my mother for the past 15 years, to whom I have not talked more than a couple of times all this while decided to turn up for my weeding. The problem was not he coming to the wedding (even though that was my main intention behind not inviting him) but his reaction. Like any other melodramatic movie father, in the moment of “kanyadan” came when my maternal uncle was giving away my hand, this great man created a scene stating nobody else other than him can do that. Well if he had been there when I wanted him maybe I would have let him, I definitely do not need a father for namesake. So I decided to go against it. And seeing this drama my would-be in-laws decided to grab the opportunity, as they from the beginning had a problem in my parents being separated. So my fiance’s mother took him by his hand and grabbed him out of the hall… and I stood there staring at him walking away with his mother as a four year old kid being denied of his favorite toy. This was crazy, crazy as ever.

My dad dint stop there he accused me of not inviting him for the wedding and challenged that without him I could never get married. Well I dint want to anymore. My friends, the literal love of my life came up and made sure the drama ended. The humiliation, the heartbreak, the frustration all that came stemmed up and all wanted to do was run away, run away from all these eyes staring at me, from all the fake sympathy I was going to get. All I did was run, reached my room packed my bags, took my wallet, my passport and took a cab to the airport. I had no idea where I was going. I dint want to cancel my holiday and go back to US because again I will have to explain stuff there. All I wanted was to go somewhere.

With no idea in my head as to my destination I was sitting in the airport when suddenly my phone beeps, I get a call from an unknown number, at first I ignore thinking it is someone wanting to know where I was, but then I decided to pick it up at the third ring. It was the hotel confirmation for my honeymoon. Well I dint have my “honey” with me but I guess I could go there and get some peace of mind. I decided to go, checked in, it was a 3 day package, and as I was not among the girls who would morn over ice cream.

I went in, ordered some alcohol, took a long and refreshing shower and sat in the balcony watching the beach, drink in one hand and a cigar in another. I wanted to just stay like this, away from all the mess, all the confusion that just was there in my life. I dint want to take up any trouble right now. And my phone was lying there dead just like me, I dint switch it on after coming back, I dint want anybody to know where I was, and come for me.

Finally after three days of seldom loneliness, alcohol and sleep I realized that I dint do anything to come under hiding. I decided to go back, face everybody because it was not me who walked out of the wedding; it was not me who couldn’t take a stand against the person I loved. He did that, if there was anyone to be ashamed of, it was him. After being in love for bloody 8 years, and knowing me in and out, if he has done this to me, then it is not me who deserves this isolation. I switched on my phone, there were hundreds of texts and calls, I ignored them all knowing it would all be the same from different people. And then my phone buzzed, it was him, Imran, well I dint want to talk to him, now or forever, I did not pick up his call, nor did I reject it, and then came a call from my aunt, she at first scolded my which was obvious as they did not know where I was, what was I doing, and when I told her where I was and what I was doing she relaxed. She said Imran had called a number of times, and that he wanted to apologize and get married to me and me alone. But I did not. She said that he had come home every hour hoping I would have come back. I did not want to see his face.

Finally, in the evening when I  decided to check out and head back home, I heard a knock at my door, I thought it was the coffee I ordered and told the person to come in, but mistaken was I, it was him, he was standing right in front of me, looking right into my eyes this time, wanting to explain a thousand things, but I dint want to hear even a single thing he had to tell, all I said was a small good bye, hugged him out and told him to leave, not just from my room but from my life.

He wanted to speak, opened his mouth but maybe realized that it was all in vain and just left.

I am not going to be melodramatic and say that “all men are one” or that “I hate men” or something. I just lost trust in him, and in the whole thing called as “love”. And this trust once broken takes a lot of effort to get healed, to be gained back, and so I guess will be my case, as for me it will take another lifetime to trust someone and fall in love all over again.