I remember a house, like a lot of other houses, a yard.....

From streets lined with trees, from flyover constructions, from roads whose names gave indications of a colonial past, from temples and their loudspeaker bhajans and flower fragrances, from an old theatre that played mallu movies, from rail tracks and the hoot of the occasional train. To change, and the creation of another set of memories.

until next time, shift

A Matter of Time

He knew people changed, but this change astounded him. The last time he’d seen the guy he was just an acerbic old man who growled more than talked and hated the concept of love. But now he was a young man who seemed kind, just and fully in love. Maybe it was just father time!!

until next time, chota akbar :)

Hide and Seek

..and some embrace the world in all its flamboyance, exploring each and every pore for all its worth. Some retreatinto self made shells or spaces where no one can find them, literally or virtually. Some of us succeed in losing ourselves, some of us in finding ourselves, and the unfortunate ones fall in between.

until next time, where art thou?

Documentary

He waited patiently, then impatiently, while they searched. Strange, they said, the document numbers above and below his were intact. Irritated, he wondered why they didn’t convey this when he called up the day before. As they took the documents from a separate drawer, their looks said it all – couldn’t you have conveyed THAT earlier?

until next time, customer service for dummies

Love Handles

After a tough day at work, after a deliberation on the purpose of life, after a windfall, after getting stuck in a traffic jam, after pondering over all possible whys, after a promotion, after all the rollercoaster days that make up life, its all worth handling only when you have someone to go back to….

until next time, happy valentine's day

Depression

There’s a sticker that adorns the vehicle of those working in the fourth estate. It helps open gates that’d otherwise be stubbornly closed, and instills a sense of wariness among those who cross its path. But its quite bemusing when another vehicle crashes into it and the driver says, ‘Oops, did I press too hard?’

until next time, pressing matters :)

The Non non conformists

There was a time conformity was common. When the non conformists became the majority, they changed the rules. Belonging suddenly became cool, and new herds were formed. But if you really look at it, not much has really changed. We’ve only traded conformism for a sense of belonging. The options are many, the choices few.

until next time, heard the post begin here :)

Colorful

The argument was about how the brand was aptly named, because the tee now sported an amalgamation of the red and blue, which, before the wash, had refused to socialize with each other, and the white that surrounded them. But the store sales guys were nice and exchanged the tee. So there went the argument.

until next time, maybe next time

Mindgames

They played with each other, taunting, challenging, and trying to outdo each other. It was exciting, and though it wasn’t the first time, they never got bored. It really didn’t matter who came first, and who came second, the fun was in playing, not in the result. Scrabbles, a game, a form of textual intercourse.

until next time, double word, double meaning :)

Lovegames

It was easy to say ‘love all’, but he’d have to make a choice. The tall, slim, squeaking Serbian brunette, or the taller, slimmer, shrieking,Russian blonde. Both were too good to be co-recipients of his affection. Perhaps he should watch one more tennis match between them before hefinally chose between Ana and Maria.

until next time, match makers

LOC

And we draw our lines. They might be invisible to those who come in, but we expect strict adherence from them, and sometimes we communicate it subtly or explicitly but sometimes not at all. And when they leave, we can’t complain. Perhaps they don’t like our lines, or perhaps they have their own lines.

until next time, draw your own conclusions

Sister Act

My sister’s college group finished their social project, and built the local tribals a treehouse to show their appreciation, with a strict warning nailed to it -‘maximum 4 people’. A few days later they heard the tree house had collapsed from overloading. We asked her who was dumber – the literate students or the illiterate tribals.

until next time, tree has a crowd

Legacies

Quite sometime back, i had written this, in which i had tried to fathom the confusion of a generation caught in transit. That genaration is definitely making progress, marching towards the paramaters of the next generation with ever increasing confidence, but in a sense, giving up on things that used to be sacrosanct until a few years back. Nothing wrong with that, to each his own. But there's one thing that always makes me wonder.

There were things we grew up with - watching potboilers of amitabh in moviehalls with uncomfortable seats and later in VCRs, listening to the nasality of Kumar Sanu on Tseries tapes, enjoying the exploits of Kapil Dev or later Sachin Tendulkar in a crowded room full of cousins, reading Amar Chitra Katha and Tinkle and Indrajal, travelling in Ambassador cars and Indian railways, lazing around during summer vacations and so on.

And while they still watch Big B movies in multiplexes, listen to Himesh on Tseries CDs while pretending to say Oh No's, Tendulkar still rocks despite occasional calls for retirement, ACK and Tinkle will soon be available online, Indian Railways is still cool if we go by Jab We Met, and they find a few hours to laze around during summer vacations despite the karate classes, entrance tutions, salsa classes etc that enable them to survive and win in this oh-so competitive world, I wonder whether they'll ever get nostalgic about any of the above the way we do.

Or have they found other things that i haven't heard of that will link them with their childhood and youth, the ones that will give them bittersweet memories which they can jot down like this, the legacy of a way of life they can pass on to the generations that follow. Or will it all be forgotten in the tumble of the life we lead today, in which everyday brings in a faster way of doing things, a quicker way of travelling, a better way to store data, an easier way to communicate and so on... Will it all be lost when things become so transient that the past won't really matter anymore...

until next time, remember....

A Class 1 story

He wondered why he’d been sent out of class. He’d done his homework, polished his shoes, he was paying attention to Miss Mary, and when Arjun, who sat next to him, started talking to him, he’d first ignored him, and then said loud enough for Miss Mary to hear, ‘Don’t disturb me in class, monkey’

until next time, every child is special

Love story

Unknown to each other, they were..

A smile and a word between them

And thus began a friendship rare

Best of friends, they became

A smile and a word between them

And lo, their love was for all to see,

Dearest of lovers, they were

A smile and a word

One love story became two

until next time, transience..

PS: D gave me a dirty look after this, so perhaps its best to have a disclaimer - Its not subjective :)