ruffled leaves

it was quiet, and empty. it did feel really empty and he was all alone. it was evening , and hardly anything moved in this street. the trees were just turning green, and the leaves were strewn in no apparent order. the sun was almost setting , it was warm and he walked aimlessly.
he stopped and looked ahead , he could hardly see anything. he realized he actually did not know where he was going. he looked back, and those brown leaves. the color had faded, it was the leaves from the past. but they looked so beautiful. and they were beautiful adding color and life to the trees. but now it was all history. everytime he looked at them, he felt different. he felt something was missing, probably missing. but was he sure ?
or was it the green leaves that lay in front of him. waiting to be picked up, waiting to be shown some human empathy, a tender touch. could that be troubling his wandering mind right now. the leaves were ahead, in the future and a new experience to unfold. the joy of discovering , the joy of the unkown but that left him a little trembling. but he knew the future would be the past, the green leaves will soon turn into brown. yes he knew he could only pick this green leaf and hold it for sometime, he had to drop it eventually. however he knew the green leaf wanted to be kept forever. was the conflict causing so much trouble. he did want to pick it up, tempting but he knew it could burn his fingers... the sun was shining brightly. how long could he stand there , he had to walk past this green leaf or pick it up.

felt like the first time

She leaned over him, he could distinctly smell the faint traces of perfume. Her blonde wavy hair just about fell on his lap. He tried not to feel all blushy by this entire act. She sat down back on her seat and looked back to her friends. And what followed after that was only something an Italian could understand. But what he understood was rahul Gandhi, why he had to chose an Italian.
He stole a look at her , her cheeks were the color of pale orange , blue radiant eyes and beautiful blonde hair. She was the epitome of cuteness, and he could sense a hundred different feelings melting away in euphoria.
Blue eyes, yes it was the blue eyes …. Hmmm yes definitely the blue eyes. But probably also the orange cheeks … before he could complete his chain of thoughts she brushed her blonde hair and again smiled randomly. She got and leaned over .. what was it. Now he was curious too. After all they were in a stationary aeroplane , and the only thing remotely interesting would be … it was difficult to ascertain. But to make sure he looked out too, but found nothing significant that could catch a girls attention. Maybe Italian girls liked to look at runways. He looked upwards, cheers to low cost airlines and their no seat number policy. He could visualize his friends saying “dude didn’t you go there and sit right next to her.” Hahaha well he didn’t. not at all, he was all lost in a strange land. Milan was not that big a city but he felt strange. He took a seat by the window as soon as he could and sat smugly in the corner waiting for the flight to leave.
Suddenly he saw someone familiar placing a bag in the seat right next to him. He looked and saw the girl’s friend. Ah atleast someone interesting , if not the cute girl who he saw during check in atleast her friend sits next to him. But god must have been really happy with him. The cute girl did indeed most definitely sit next to him. The joy in his heart knew no bounds, it felt like the first time he saw a really cute girl. He knew he had to talk to her and talk to her he did. But obviously he didn’t account for the fact that Italians speak English as good as tamilians speak hindi , well there are exceptions in every case.
After another round of the same getting-up-leaning-looking at the runway, obviously nothing he complained of the plane started on its journey. He knew that this journey was going to be interesting. The only thought that stuck in his brain was , play the tourist card ..play the tourist card … and obiously now that his brain was converging to a pea size faster than his algorithms he couldn’t think of any other brilliant ideas. He removed the map of leuven , looked at it , turned it square and upside down. From the corner of his eye he looked if she even noticed but alarmingly she buried herself in a book. Damn it. Not the way a girl who leans over and looks at runway react. He had to seize the moment but at the same time act cool.
“excuse me, hi I am going to Belgium for the first time and was wondering if you could help.”
And she turned , oh god that beautiful eyes, it was hard not to look away. She smiled, and instantly he forgot almost everything.
“yhes hyes .. my help you want” the accent killed it. He knew all he wanted to do on the journey was listen to her.
After explaning that he wanted help with directions and his first time in Belgium confused him to no extent. She looked very thoughtfully
“ well my first time too but I can help if you want to translate something to English.” Damn where were those French maps when you need them.
Obviously with no exotic language maps he had to go back to quiet-think-new-idea to talk to cutest girl ever. Then after what seemed ages he blurted. “excuse me, but I am kinda bored and we could speak about something if you like.”
She smiled, a radiant smile … okk he got to stop describing.
“of kourshe wheare aaaree you from and whaet do you .. sorry whaaet you dho here.” He smiled and now he was in his elements. Obviously she apologized that since her English was in a bad shape she couldnt talk much. The conversation was delightful, she laughed at his jokes … well the jokes were good too. And then every other moment she would turn back laughing, giggling with her friends in Italian. He wished he had a secret Italian translator. But how did he know that after today he wouldn’t talk to her again anyways.

a ode

it was the summer, hot and the fan was running with that rythm. one could hear that sound every 5 seconds just about saving you from the hot sun shining brightly. the air was warm and the room was brightly lit with the windows and door open. in the background he could hear his mom speaking to his domestic help. the vessels, the water dripping from the tap ... and the music from the computer blaring "when i look into your eyes, i can see the love restrained ..."

but he was vaguely unaware. present but totally absent. sitting on the chair, which was not the most comfortable one around he was oblivious to everything else. he was in a different world reconstructing characters, putting faces and visualizing situations. he eyes were devouring the words in front of him. wodehouse transported him into a different world, a world which delighted him. made him singularly happy about life, the characters were always the good natured person he rarely came across in life. the words, the similes, the metaphors, the ironies conjured up tales of unending beauty. and there would be intricate situations woven together with a myraid number of characters whose conflicting characters contributed to the single most endearing characteristic of his books - humour. he laughed, he laughed aloud, he laughed without any mirth, he laughed for laughters sake. it was the most beautiful way of laughing. he treasured it. nothing that happened, or anyone in his life would or could steal it away.

his mom walked past him, wondering what in hell had possessed her child. there he was on a chair unmindful of her calling out to him, with a book in hand and laughing out to himself. she smiled, she knew, she left him alone. he didnt notice that, but he didnt care about it.

there was a beautiful flow in the story, the innocent and a straightforward grace, the mannerisms, the language, and the typical greetings used by the characters. he reveled in it, he was transported into a different land. a land of mind numbling simplicity and dreams. a thing of beauty is a joy forever....

familiar

he thought about it. hmmmm , it made sense to him probably. human emotions he knew were complicated and diverse and so many. its difficult to experience each and every facet.
he felt disconnected as he heard the speech, not because he was not interested. only cause he knew the interest would only defeat the purpose. the trains chugging along gave him something to wonder about. trains arrive and leave, they dont stay.

he suddenly felt a warmth. he felt very comfortable, it was the sunshine of the days. he could see the pain, he could see the excitement, he could see the disappointment, he could see the expectation, he could see the euphoria, he could see the tears. it was quite a while since someone had reached inside. he wanted to fight it all away. the question of permanence filled his mind with doubts.

he walked away hands in his pocket, the crowd carried him away from home.

evanescence

he was running ... running and running, fast and faster. the tall grass hardly could stop him. he looked around him as if challenging the wind to overtake him. his hair being blown away with his speed. yet momentarily some time back he had felt tired, sluggish and slow. but now he was running on the vast green fields. it was green grass all around and his eyes could make out those brown mountains in the distance. there was the afternoon sun in all its splendour, looking at it directly sent a warm chill up his spine. he wanted to reach for the sun ... soon he saw what he was running into , a drop and he didnt know what that was. he didnt care.

he ran faster as he saw the end, his face flushed with happiness .. bright and glowing in the sunshine. his brain had no thoughts, wow he was now only 10 steps away .... 5 .. 4 and saw the most beautiful cliff he had ever seen and endless blue water below. it was exhilirating.

and before everything could register in his brain, he felt no ground under his feet. ah he was in air !! floating ? he was tired but now he was resting in those invisible arms. he closed his eyes. he was tired, a heavy feeling in his head. there were moments when he felt irritated for no reason, frustrated that things werent going his way. sometimes he felt bad, thinking about how people will react ... he cared a little too much or maybe he didnt. maybe he hurt people a little too much. he wanted his mind to be simple , uncluttered , uncomplicated .. he wanted to feel like now .. there was no feeling. he was gently swaying in the air from side to side... feeling very smug. the sun kept him warm enough, the trees kept him pleasant , the birds sang .. and he felt light .. he felt uncomplicated ... he was descending slowly to the vast expanse of water. it was blue , the sunlight bounced off from the surface , glittering sparkles , it felt serene ... and he hit the water.. the fluid covered him completely in no time at all. he vanished into oblivion. he no longer existed above the water..

the alarm rang and he woke up. it is yesterday once more..

a thing called home

he woke up with a start, his mouth felt really dry. slowly all the silence was filled with noise and sounds all around him. he felt dusty, sweaty and uncomfortable. as he lay on the ground and slowly opened his eyes he felt the green grass comforting him underneath. it was cold, but not really colder than what he felt. as he adjusted his eyes to the world outside he saw people packing things, some already on their way. some people eating a little bit of food which was supposed to last the entire journey. the sun was bright, the mountains glorious .. the valley in front of him magnificent. but that was all that seemed positive. he turned around his back and saw what they had left, left behind ... the thing that was home for so many of them now abandoned, torn apart, fleeing to a different place.

slowly he got up, the weight of his backpack which was still hanging around his shoulders tugging a bit. as he took it out he reached for the cask of water, a few drops to quench his thirst. that strange taste of the teeth which he so despised remained as a result of not brushing for the last couple of days. but atleast he could look forward to better days, a better life. hope. he sat and rested and looked at himself, dirty thing hands. his legs didnt have the strength they used to have before. months of curfew and insecurity didnt help things. he was still in the clothes from his class at the university but not recognizable. the black shirt he wore to signify the protest, the ragged blue jeans with stains ... now torn a bit and all soiled. he ran his fingers through his hair, not smooth as they once used to be ... dry he even flinched when his fingers got entangled in that long hair. he was lost. he was away. he now had given hope to find his family and friends, even a recognizable face in this mass of humans. he felt all alone.

but he had to carry on. there were small children running here and still oblivious to the pains of life, oblivious of what had happened to them and their country. the joy on their faces after being finally set free, not fear but joy. it filled his heart with hope, true the life that he had known till now was destroyed. all that he had was no longer his. previously he had a passion, he lived for a reason .. now all that seemed meanigless. only what was left was his ideas, his principles, the truth and his human emotions. he had to go continue on with hope and find a new place to live. life suddenly seemed hanging by the thread, while once he was merry without a care drinking and dancing now it seemed so insignificant. there were no words .. he moved and started walking to a place where he would now call home.

metamorphosis

as he sat reading his friend's friend's poem , he realized the acute sense of disconnect he felt similarly long time back. he had grown, grown out of these teenager days and those teenager ideals. those ideals were passionate, were something he stood for, lived by and could have never believed it would be so trampled upon that now it didnt matter at all to him.
rewinding he went back to those days of carefree days of his undergrad. times when the mind was looking for a cause, for a passion, for a reason to believe in something that he could put his energy to. days were spent reading those ayn rand books, george orwell, books that had strong opinions about issues that were relevant to living life. time when we were searching for what exactly to do with life, grappling with emerging contradictions, feeling around to take the next logical step. it was in those days that the strong ideals would be shaped which differed as per the personality of each person. there were discussions, debates about raging issues which then seemed the most important to take a stand on. to have an opinion about.
one of those ideals that everyone espoused was for friendship, friendship no matter what happened. spending those days together made it stronger from the roots, so entwined that one could hardly think about not spending life with each other. laughter, jokes, movies, studies everything was done ... a great deal of time spent in other's company.
and soon there would come a time when everything would unravel. when one would realize friendship is not as immortal as it is made out to be. nor is it possible for it to be perfect, that pristine pure human feeling incapable of being soiled by anyone's actions. but life has its own way of dealing us with lessons. we were dealt with harshly when we would wake up to the realities of life. reality of survival, reality of measuring upto our own lofty standards of achievement .. standards of living life the way we wanted to. however we didnt realize when we formed that ideal of friendship we also formed ideals of achievement , where one might have just destroyed the other. it was impossible for both to co-exist even in a very crippling fashion. and as we came out of that institution the ideals in conflict led us to places we might have dreamt of before in the process sacrificing other ideals.
we changed, adapted and soon outgrew those silly passionate ideals that we were so vocal about. it didnt matter anymore in the face of new challenges .. the emergance of the next phase , a metamorphosis.