Friday, June 7, 2013
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Saturday, April 13, 2013
Friday, April 12, 2013
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
The Solemn Gallery
As David opened the door light entered the melancholy room. Beautiful paintings hung all around, each more exquisite than the other. Paintings of different sizes with all possible colors in them. Paintings of the rising sun, a lady in the woods, rain the city and many many more hung in the room.
Each painting engrossed the viewer. They made one enter the painting and would just be in that moment stopped forever allowing the viewer to see a fraction of a second for anything upto eternity. David was standing in the most colorful and vibrant room he had ever been in and still felt a heavy drowning sadness in the room.
On the far end sat an old man with paint marks all over his torn clothes a paint brush balanced on top of his ear under the thick lofts of long unkempt grey hair. He had another brush in his right hand and a pallet with slightly dry dark colors spread all over it held in his left hand. Sorrow reeked off him. His black eyes had depth that had an eeriness in them. Were they joyful? Sorrowful? Had pain ? remorse?? David could not tell from that distance but there was a cocoon of concentration around the artist and with utter precision and confidence the old man brushed a dark grey colour in the clouds on the canvas.
In the other end of the room almost next to the door sat an old lady ( about the same age as the man) behind a desk with a lot of messy papers , open directories and scribbled phone numbers. She too had a sad expression, hers was as it she had lost something close to her heart. Her eyes were watery as if she had been weeping until Mr. David opened the door.
The lady stood up politely and kindly requested David to step into the room-their gallery- ‘the room of wonders’. He looked around, fascinated! Painting after painting colour after colour, shades after shades. All under a black roof with tiny white stars made on it. David kept his suitcase down on the dirty floor and loosened his sharp slack tie and unbuttoned his blazer just absorbing all that was around him.
The lady poured him a glass of water from a bottle kept on the desk and offered it to him. David accepted it and took a short sip of the warm and salty water. It was unlike the clean and cool water had been accustomed to, the water brought him back to his senses, he realized it is a gallery and not a room of dreams he perceived it to be. He asked the old man “ Sir have you made all of these?” his voice had a hint of awe in it. He did not get any response from the man & david with an expression of a question faced the lady.
She said with composure “ My husband is hard of hearing and has been mute for a year now. He stopped speaking when he heard that our eldest son died in a train accident when his was shifting to the city where he had got placed by his college.. And yes he has made all the paintings” she said the last part with a faint smile and with pride.
David was surprised to hear this and he enquired more about there family. She told him they had 5 children two of them are going to school. Her twin daughters are studying art in
He asked how they paid for the schooling, the college and the medical. The lady lowered her head and said that they had taken loans and were finding it hard to repay specially because they had not sold even a single painting in over a year. Their main client suddenly retired from the business and had abruptly stopped their sales. She added “ Sir it is very hard to look for a person with as much money as you and a taste like yours” she peeked into his eyes gave expressed that they would no longer be able to survive if he did
Not buy a painting today.
David was shaken. He had been taken out of his self-made bubble of luxuries and was given a sneek-peek into the grim reality of the real life. He was now determined to help the family as much as he could.
He picked out a painting which showed the sun over a city street still wet with fresh rains.
He asked for the price. The lady said “Sir please give us how much ever you find worth of the painting.” Daivd did not ask again and wrote a cheque of 50 thousand rupees in the name of the artist the lady was overjoyed and hugged her husband showing him the cheque. He was overwhelmed and a tear rolled down his cheek. David was very happy that he was able to revive a fantastic artist.
David gave the lady a few phone numbers of his friends and told her that they will also be interested in such paintings. The lady bow her head before him and thanked him profusely as if he had saved her lift.
David smiled and left the gallery and sent his chauffer to collect the painting. The lady and the artist helped give him the painting. They showed gratitude to him as well.
A minute after the driver left. The artist said” Honey can we leave now. Its so hot here. Do you want to have dinner at Hyatt tonight?? They wernt so good last time but still want to give it a shot.?”
The lady nodded..
They went to the basement of the building sat in their porsche carrera gt and drove off..
The old mad said” honey dint we have twin boys last time?”
Friday, May 6, 2011
The Entertainment Machine
Being an army kid one is taken to many places.. and one learns to enjoy these not so common places.
So here I as in Bharatpur. A place popular for the bird sanctuary.
Telling out of experience there is ntn more to Bharatpur than the birds.. Its a slow moving town with ntn happening..
But still when
One day while on our weapons of exploration.. Our cycles.. My friends n i found an abandoned cemented area on a barren field.. It was a very uprising find cuz all that there was on those fields was a bushy thorny plant and dry soil..
We went home asked our dads abt wat it was.. No one had any idea.. We ( 2 friends of mine who happened to be brothers and i) begged our dads to get that patch a bit cleaned off.. We helped in the cleaning ourselves.. Well wat we found that it was a rectangular large patch of cement.. And it had some white lines made on it.. Wait a second was it a tennis court!?!?
Yes it was.. Well that was it.. That was the solution to our boredom.. A tennis court though in tatters is still a tennis court..
We started playing day in and day out..literally.. In the summer hols we would get up at 530 with the sunrise play till .. As the sun became harsh (Bharatpur is in Rajasthan at the edge of the desert) we went home and slept.. Again in the evenings at about 5 530 we were on the court again and this time till about 7 ish when it became too dark to see the ball..
The funny thing was that it being an erstwhile abandoned court it dint hav a cage or a net.. The net we found berried deep in the mess'es sports store room but there was no cage.. So we lived with that.. Every time one would hit a fast shot and the opponent would miss it the ball would would go rolling away to a minimum of 20 feet away.. We played with just one ball so invariably whenever a person won a point the other would hav to run to go get the ball..
Whatever said and done we really had fun!! A lot of fun..
It seems now that we had just too much of fun.. All the units uncles would pass by us in the morning when they would go to office and when in the evening they would comeback we would be on the court again.. Them seeing us enjoy our selves so much had the 'tom sawyer' effect on them i suppose.. They just had to play..
So one fine day one of the uncles joint us.. In a few days a few others.. They all complained about wat we had gotten used to the lack of the cage and them having to run to get the ball..
10 15 days passed then one afternoon we say some work happening at the court..
When we reached there we found out that a cage was being built.. Wow now this is awesome.. Within 2 days the cage was ready and now even more uncles came to play.. We had to wait out for matches.. But that was okay just one one match each.. It was fine..
Days passed the court was now throughly cleaned.. And the next day painted.. The court gained speed the ball would now bounce off faster than it had done in it second life now just about 1 and a half months old.. Wow our barren cemented land was gaining popularity..
In a few days the number of ppl playing increased the waiting increased.. Lemon aid! Neebu pain , tea, coffee, real juice God knows wat else stared being served there from the units mess.. It was like a daily sports party..
Well all this triggered our idea.. We started a tournament.. Ad open ( ad = ammunition depot) we made some money just before school reopened..
In the evenings then we seldom ever got a chance to play.. Life was back to the boring days.. Now we cycled with the glow of the lights from the tennis court in the background..
Monday, March 21, 2011
When u think u know something or rather when u know u know something very well something happens and u realize ' okay I dint know that' and then immerge with more knowledge.. U agree?
I recently entered a phase where I dint want to spend much... Or actually not spend an excess where not required.. And cuz of this and my ' good knowledge of all sectors in noida ' i started using the not very comfortable but very economical mode of transport 'the tempo!' well for some reason all of us choose to ignore this mode of public transport.. Why? Cuz its too crowded.. Its got too many stops.. Blah blah blah blah
Well i agree its a bit more time consuming but when not in a hurry why not use it..
So here.. I’m at sector 12 with a friend wanting to go home to sec 71 which is a bit far off.. The most obvious way to go s by auto.. But that’s 70 Rs wasted.. Naah ill find something else..
So i walk down the main road of sec 12.. Spotting an almost empty tempo.. I inquire weather its route has my place or some where close by.. The tempo driver told me that he can drop me off at a place which is almost opposite to my house.. In just 10 Rs.. Well i couldn’t have asked for a better bargain..
I hopped on. the tempo moved in its usual manner stopping after every few min to take on new passengers.. But the problem was i had no goddamn idea where we were.. Its was rather.. Um..um adventurous and scary to an extent.. Sec 58.. Sec 59.. Came and went but i had no idea where they were.. I just kept sitting in the tempo looking/ staring outside in the hope to find my bearings.. Naah not an idea.. R we still in noida ?? The thought creped up in my head... But the fact that the driver told me where hell drop me close to my place sort of reassured me.. I just sat there building my mental map of noida..
When i got off n was told which direction to go to n after about 3o seconds of walking I realized where i was..
I thought ' wow a trip.. An expansion of the map of noida.. A ride home.. A post for the blog.. In 10 bucks versus a boring auto ride for 70 bucks'
One can hardly ever stop learning.. Just b ready to do stuff one normally wouldn’t!
Monday, February 14, 2011
my first fiction story.. hope its the first on many..
Friendship at the metro!!
Casually dressed Rohit is running towards the metro station. He is to catch the metro for his coaching class. His shirt it loose, not tucked in, his bag is falling from his shoulders. He pulls at his baggy jenes to stop them from falling.
The metro is Rohit's enemy and his best friend. When he boards it he meets his friends, laughs at lame jokes but when he misses it he spends his time in boredom. 10 min at the station and a 45 min long commute all alone.
More often the metro was his enemy than his friend. He was wondering how the train was going to treat him. Was it going to be metro the bitch or metro the angel?
Just as he reached the platform the doors started shutting and in a fit of atheism he managed to keep his wardrobe intact and made it onto the metro. Poof!! He was saved from hellish boredom.
Next week the same story continued. Rohit was in his usual hurry, his wardrobe loose, pants falling, bad haywire, iPod on full volume. He unfortunately missed the train this time.
Rohit stood on the platform sad and disappointed. He was a bit disheartened because of the scolding he had got at home for being casual about his timings. He wad bored and bummed out. He threw the bag on the floor and sad on the railing, thinking about what excuse he would give to his teacher at the coaching for being late.
He was miserable ( so he thought)
There was no friend around lonely was he
He wanted fun and joy instead he got loneliness
Rohit looked up and saw the platform opposite to his, up came a girl. At a glance one could say she the opposite of Rohit. She was dressed neatly, walked slowly on the platform, well before time. She looked like the disciplined one.
Both of them looked at each other. She was the earliest and he was late enough to miss the metro. For a second they were the only people on the platforms. Both the same age but Rohit was mentally a child and the girl a grownup.
He wave hi to her cause he needed just to talk to someone - anyone to distract him from his thought and like always he dint have any balance on his phone. The girl replied with a wave a wave he did not expect and that wave was the striking of a new friendship. A peculiar friendship. A friendship of no words, a friendship where they dint even know each others names!
Week after week they communicated in sign language, both their uncommon unite for just a few min every week.
Rohit never made a pushing effort anymore to catch the train and dint mind missing it cuz he would then spend a few min on the platform peeking into another world, a world he was told about in sign language, a disciplined yet joyful world.
Rohit would occasionally miss the metro on intention and act disappointed for his friends who saw hin through the window. Unlike earlier he felt overjoyed by missing the metro.
Time passed by, the friendship grew. The coaching had its break and upon resuming Rohit most looked forward for those 10 min at the platform.
She wasent there anymore. Rohit thought " where would she have gone?? Will I meet her again?? Is she alright??" these questions stayed in his mind.
He would look for her on the station, constantly looking around, just in the hope to see her again.
He never took the metro on time now he had to stay on the platform in the hope she would come.
please leave your opinion about the story. itll mean a lot :)
please leave your opinion about the story. itll mean a lot :)
Saturday, February 5, 2011
In a strong desire not to break my new years i am here.. Not clearly knowing what to writ..well its not like thats the case every time but i usually hav a topic in my head.. None today..
Well i should write about something i have been delaying for quite some time.. To be precise from
Mr Sharon Padmanabhan.. And his blog unwinding.. http://sharoon3112.blogspot.com
Met him one day at a gathering.. some common friends we had.. Well he seemed different.. Both in the retarded way and the sweet n joyful way..
But i soon realized that his retardation was one of the coolest things that evening..
So here was a fun loving sweet guy.. Okay..
one day on fb he had put up a link to his blog.. Out of sheer boredom n hope for a shot of madness i checked it out..
I can remember which post it was but i remembering saying to myself." okay dude! This stuff is really good." it wasent the madness i had expected it was who he was.. It was beautiful.. Heart felt stuff...
His blog gave a good feeling.. Something was there in the way he wrote that u had to read more.. I remember once when i knew that i dint hav anything to do in the metro i copied all the old posts of his to my ipod at home and for 45 min just read his stuff.. Heart warming to down right funny.. He can control your feelings for the time you r reading his posts..
I owe him a lot. As it is because of him that i started blogging.. I know the blog is not very famous yet but one day it will b.. I just kno it cuz writing gives me this good feeling its like a thirst being quenched.. And before i read sharoon bhs simple take on things around one self i would hav never gotten down to actually writing...
Thank you bh..
I kno u kno but still.. u rock..
Friday, February 4, 2011