Miss you!!!!!!!

Why is it that only after you lose someone you realise her importance, her place in your life?? The value of her presence dawns upon you only when you find yourself staring at the void created by her absence. She came close to leaving me, some time ago. But fate intervened and she stayed. However, this time around she is gone, definitely. Forever.

She was one of the closest friends and a confidante. I told her everything. She listened to everything. The songs I sang, the poems I recited, the curses I threw at myself. She was a witness to all. And what did I give her in return? I tormented, tortured, neglected her. She never complained. She always stood by me when I needed her the most..and boy, how often I needed her!!!! She never cribbed about time, place, occasion as if she never had her own priorities, her own life, her feelings, her expectations. I know she had. I could feel when she wanted to be comforted, to be placated, to be loved. After all, she was not just anybody. She was my companion. She was there when I celebrated. She was there when I mourned. She was there when I won and she was there when I lost. She was there when I smiled and she was there when I cried. But most important, she was there when I was alone.

I was foolish to have brazenly assumed that I can part ways with her. Ki fark painda hai?? I thought. Of course, life will go on. I will recover in a week or two. But for a romantic it is not easy to forget his love.Is it??( first, second, third..nth, now how does that matter!!!). How will I remember to forget her? Is it possible to forget her? Is it possible to erase her impression from the canvass of my consciousness?? I guess, it will take some time. After all, she was not just a bike. MH-31 BC 2844 stood for much more than that. Adios, sweetheart!!!

A mixed bag

Bonjour Messieurs et Mesdames. Phaneromaniac sincerely hopes that you all are in your pinkest of physical, mental, social, emotional, psychological, and, of course, financial, health. Amen!! Today, when I and Gajanan sat for our French lessons, Gaja had a surprise for me. But before that, let me introduce Gaja to you first. Gajanan Patil, earlier Herr Patil and now Monsieur Patil, and I met in a German language class and even before we realized we became chums. Probably because we both wear a beard. He, a French beard and I, an unkempt one. So to do justice to his look, I guess, he started to learn French on his own. Since I have studied a bit of French myself, I proposed that we sit together and do it. It gives me a chance to re-establish my French connection, you know. So when he came to my place today, he brought an entire French lesson, comprising of 16 chapters with translation in English and audio files, downloaded from the net. Now that is something very special because, for a change, the translations are correct and the audios clear!! The story recounted in the chapters looks quite interesting and I am sure it will be fun to read and listen.
When he left, naturally, mood was cheerful and excitement filled the hot summer air. Then came the shock. Aai had told me in the morning that she was going to Chandrapur to visit her dad. I said ok assuming that she will be back in a day. But just as I dropped her to the bus stand she said, “See you on Monday!” Monday!!!! Three days!!!!! What am I going to do for three days alone at home?? Already the days are eternally long and ass-burning hot. Moment she left, I saw ennui entering through the back door. I need a marker pen. For what? To write her name on the walls of my boredom. I must read “1001 ways of killing time”. Anyway, thanks Eluard for that line.

Bhoole bisre geet..

Yesterday, for the first time, I greeted her with a smile and ...and she responded with the liveliest grin I had ever seen. In this age of ruthless competition, skewed human relationships, waning sense of belonging, when life has become precarious, more than ever before, if at all one must live, one must continue to consume resources and one must do his bit to push the race towards extinction, then he should do so for the sake of that smile. It compels me to forget the count of my years, it begs me to drop the cynicism with which the injustice around us, so easily, adulterates our thoughts and prejudices our actions, it asks me to shrug off the pragmatism for some time and act foolishly. It reminds me of those days when one had the ability to have a hearty laugh at anything, no matter how trivial, how churlish!! It reminds me of those innumerable bits of joy which I have conveniently forgotten in the quest of that 'something big'. It compels me to recall those moments and smile to myself. It urges me to revive my desire to enjoy life, it pleads me not to be afraid of being happy, it assures me that, though such moments will not last longer, they will never cease to find me. It asks me to wait for them and when they arrive, to greet them with the brightest of my grins, with the purest of my intentions. Then, it promises me, they will last forever.
The innocence of that smile has triumphed over my selfishness.

PS: Guys, this is total madness. I wrote this some time ago. Of course, for a gal. However, since this piece ,now, is reduced to just a juxtaposition of Roman letters grouped together in packets named 'words', I guess there is no harm in sharing it with you.So long.

One for Holi

A lofty dollop of the 'sweeter-than-honey' chana-dal paste slid slyly between two innocuous, thin wheat flour rolls, like the mischief of a naughty kid comes veiled under the guise of innocence, and bathed under a liberal shower of home-made ghee...that's Puranpoli for the gourmand and the gourmet alike.
Puranpoli is a Maharashtrian-special delicacy, often prepared on the occasion of Holi. The whole process of preparing Puranpoli is quite tedious, requires a lot of time, skill and patience. But the whole exercise, when finished, bears a very sweet and delightful fruit.However there is a caveat attached. If you are planning to rush to the office or college, after indulging yourself with few hefty helpings of Puranpoli, then boss, you are in for a shock. Even the most energetic of men, I have seen them turning into sloth bears after such an heavy intake. It is extremely high on calorie and fat content and with ample of sleep-inducing agents, like a handsome sprinkle of Nutmeg powder, added to it, only a hearty siesta can do justice to the treat. Needless to say,it is the ultimate torture for the abstemious. For exactly these reasons, first it being heavy on digestion and secondly, time consuming, it is only prepared on select occasions during the year,like Holi in March and the Mahalaxmi Puja in September.So it is an eagerly awaited prospect. These days,you can find it in few restaurants,as well. But then none of them can match Aai's impeccable mixture off ingredients, her mastery over packing the paste in those wafer thin layers, its smooth texture, the silky-soft morsel that simply melts in your mouth without
making a fuss. You know what, year after year,season after season Aai's Puranpoli has transcended the realm of reality and has garbed around itself, the aura of a legend.