Reborn- 100th post

Today, I post my 100th post on my blog. While I do post it, it hasn't been written by me. I seldom complete stories and most of these stories are my real life with loads of Mirch-Masala.

I fought with really close friend of mine, I told him that I would never speak to him again. Obviously within 2 mins, I regretted it and hence this story was born.

This story is a continuation to that.

I hate sharing space but I had no qualms sharing it with, I guess one of my best(est) friends, Nik. Though I could get hurt for saying this, "Thanks a lot, Sloth Bear" :P

The yellowness of the lamp light imbibed in him as he struggled with his pen. It was not different today. As usual, it was 6.30pm and he was at his desk, logging down the completed jobs. And some anticipated objectives to be fulfilled tomorrow at the drill site. The intangible yet tart aroma of the whisky travelling inside every nerve and artery of his well built body, with every sip, acted as a pretty strong infuser; infusing him with his own soul. This never used to happen during his extremely engaged daily schedule. But it happened every evening. Amongst the fluttering pages of his logbook, the peg of the familiar whisky and the surrounding darkness, the shuttering window panes, it was a daily practice to carry out this "Infusion". The "Infusion" was the means of gathering himself every evening, gathering his own deteriorated self, collecting his pieces and building a new “him” for the next battle, the next dawn.

“Saheb, the dinner is ready.”

A very familiar rippled voice broke the numbness in him which lasted for 3 unnoticeable hours.

“Hanji kaka, abhi aaya, just two minutes.”

Rising from his wooden chair, he walked towards the door of his study, in his typical upfront manner, and shut it behind him. Entering the hallway, flanked with bright luminescence, he could see his life. He could see the status he had. He could see the respect tagged with his persona. He could see what being the GM Drilling Services at 31 meant. He could also see the way he is on, but still lost; where he has reached, but not a destination. Stepping in the dining hall, making himself comfortable on the chair and with the food, he wished again. Like daily. That it would have been so much of a blessing, if she could see all this. If she could just be here. If she could find the real him.Find someone who got lost 10 years ago.

He fed himself as miniscule food as everytime, and went back to his study. With the same inexpressiveness on him, his memory started serving him, perfectly.

He had developed this inexpressiveness on his face in the last 10 years. Since they both grew apart. Since things changed and seemed never to return back to normal again. None of the two loved less. It was just the circumstances that played the evil. Staying unmarried and living alone was a majorly questionable affair, with his family evidently against the idea. Still in love with his family, which resided in a metro city, he conformed to a life of an unreal "him". With everything in place in his life, still there was not a thing that he could find. Love struck him long ago and he knew it was the true one. And when he lost it, 10 years ago, he knew the bruise would also last for a lifetime. And it turned out to be true. Amongst his “perfect” life, he didn’t have her. And that was nothing less than emptiness for him. An emptiness, that filled him daily to the core.

Every day started with a wish. That maybe they could have been together. Maybe he could have been someone he wanted to be. That maybe he could get rid of the identity crisis he faced every hour at work. That maybe he could just be with her. Wishes grew infinite every day. With every passing moment, he got reminded of something or the other they shared. The name of a state they had been together in, the name of a person they knew in common, the beguiling aroma of the perfume she wore...anything and everything that came across him made him reminiscence them. He wished for her voice to greet his ears every dawn. But integrally he knew, this is like wishing for the Gods to send an invite of heaven to him . That he used to hope against hope. And this very thought dragged him back to the unidentified life he was living every day.

Days passed. It had been almost a year since he was made the GM. Keeping himself busy in his work all throughout the day, attending the meetings, completing projects...nothing was different in his life compared to the usual life of a bigshot. But it was that day, that very special day, which had an unusual start. He woke up to find 3 missed calls. Ignoring them for the time being, he got up to get dressed. The phone again beeped with a message. Putting his tie around his neck he picked up the phone to check the message and started walking towards his Accord.

It said: “Bajaj here. 5pm at Mochas. And if u think even for a sec who “bajaj” is, ul get ur ass kicked. Everyone is arriving. Be there.”

Whoaa.!! What a start to the day!! It was quite a long time he did not meet his school friends. He really wanted to. But immediately he realised, “What about infusion? It will surely take more than 3 hours with them....and then....” He started driving. Left his apartment and forgot about the evening plan.

The day passed. As usual. And he arrived home early. Around 4.

The day had been special at work too...something was going on today. He managed to grab three contracts and the software also ran a successful first try!

“Something isn’t right today, or maybe things are too right!” He thought to himself while parking the car in the alley.

“Kaka, jaldi se ek cup chai bana do, mujhe kahin kaam se jaana hai.” And the swiftness with which he entered the house, with the same he got dressed and left.

Reaching mochas he met them all. They forced him to put his cellphone on busy. Again reminiscence. During his exams he used to put his phone on busy too. When she used to call, she used to get a busy tone which made her aware that he was studying. Jarring into the reality, he did as they said and went on to discuss old school days and have fun.

Time flew by like it never did. Things seemed to be pretty different today. And it was residing in his subconscious which he was interestingly avoiding. He knew something had to happen. He changed clothes, and checked his phone casually. Putting it on speaker on the bed, he moved towards his closet to arrange his clothes. In the typical jiffy he was known for.

“You have 3 voice mail messages. Press 1 to listen.”

He did.

1. “Akhil here. Where the hell is the file? Get it tomorrow or the extraction will need further confirmation from court you idiot!”

2. " Hi. It is me. I just wanted you to know that I missed you. No-one could ever replace you in my life. You are special. I missed you."

It felt like all the blood in his body has rushed to his head. He knew the voice. He so recognised it. All the emptiness was getting filled. He felt his stomach churning like a tornado. The air around suddenly went silent. His ears could not believe what he had just heard. It was her voice. The voice of his destination. He glared at the lit screen of the phone on the bed. Collecting every bit of consciousness, courage, strength, sanity left in him, combining all of them, he stood up nd took the phone in his hand and the speaker bellowed:

“Press 0 to listen again”

He did. And the feeling of having his life back was amazing. It felt as if everything in the world had stopped. Every emotion seemed unfamiliar. Every heartbeat felt new. He could finally see his identity shaping up. According to him the definition of “Unbelievable” had changed. This word was too insufficient to describe what had just happened. A sudden realisation of finding the meaning to his life struck him. Drowned in the unexpected happening of her return, he wished to die in the happiness that enlivened his soul.

He heard that voice after 10 years. 10 Years, in which he knew nothing about her. Where she had been, how she had been, what she had been doing. He fell on his back on the bed and heard the message infinite times. He wasn’t getting enough of it. How could he have. He could feel LOVE crawling under his own skin.

He knew something different was going to happen today. It was right there in his heart and mind since the moment he woke up in the morning. But of this magnitude, it was highly unpredictable.

His wait and patience won. Getting over, though with extreme vigour, of the shock, he dialled back the no.

It rang, and someone picked up.

And there was her voice,

“Hi. I knew you would call. I just want to say that I STILL LOVE YOU.”

He found himself. He reached his destination.

He was REBORN.....

Rear-view mirror

Today, as I got out of the building, I realised I needed to go to the ATM. I went to the ATM near my house but it refused to "dispense" any money. If I didn't have a broken hand, I would have punched it, but I had no choice but to go to the doctor's clinic and see if there was an ATM there.


Thankfully, the clinic is near the market area, so there were bound to be atleast an ATM. But no. All ATMs there were either out of order or ones which I couldn't use. I walked on. For a good 25 mins in the blazing sun. I finally found one in some corner on the road.


I walked back to the doctor’s clinic and got my reports. When I came out and walked back a little to the rick stand, I realised that there was an ATM 2 steps from the clinic.


Being in a philosophical mood, I began thinking. Maybe the thing we actually searching for is left back in the past. We just walk past it and then reach where we are supposed to and continue to search for what is missing. We go on and on. Looking forward. Ahead all the time. Struggling to read a little further for we expect that something to be around the next corner.


Just take a look behind. Maybe that’s why cars have a small rear-view mirror too.



These were the days when my first book had just come out. A reporter called to take my interview. He and I were so happy. While I hugged him, he whispered and said, " I wonder how many you will mention me. Just try not to make every answer about me." I looked at his face to see a smirk that I had fallen in love with. 

The day the interview was published, he woke up earlier to read it and immediately called me to say," You didnt even mention me once." The same pain in his voice like a small kid who had been refused candy. That evening, I sat with him and showed him how each answer had him somewhere. He just didn't know how to connect the dots. I told him that now, he was embedded it in my very cell. I would need to check into a rehab to get rid of him..

10 years later, I had everything. 5 best sellers and interviews after each launch. I had everything but him. I had suppressed all feelings I had about him and moved on.

Then, one day, I met him at a parking lot. I smiled to hide surprise, the pain and most of all the love. He smiled too. Came up to me and said, " I have been following your work, closely. I must say I'm proud to have known you. I'm running late, but do please call me." He turned around before I could say a word.

I ran home to see if there was even a glimpse of him in my work. I poured of my work of 10 yrs to see if I could see him anywhere. I resigned into my bed some hours later, given up. 

He was everywhere. Maybe I really did need rehab.

Random sad phases

He was right I realised as the cool air of the AC touched my skin giving me goosebumps. I shuddered at what I am not too sure - the coolness of the air or the realisation. You are a volcano waiting to explode, his voice echoed in my head as tears welled in my eyes. Thoughts stored in there since eternity with no outlet. Somewhere deep in my heart. Locked up and key dropped into the deep ocean. Somedays, it gets too much and I keep my hand over it to prevent an outburst. Most times I am successful and nothing comes out. But what it leaves behind is a burnt hand due to the hot lava.

Today, I burnt my hand. My tongue bruised from all the times I bite it to catch myself from saying something I want to but dont want to. I'm breathless though I haven't moved an inch since morning. I feel exhausted. Tired. Of pretending. Of wearing a mask. A mask that tells the world, "I'm ok", "I'm normal.", "It doesn't hurt."

I'm not ok. I'm anything but normal. And it hurts. It is a wound which refused to heal. Maybe because I keep picking at it. This is going to scar. You know that too. You agreed when you said of all the "phases" in my life, you were the one that made the maximum impact. Yes, you are right. 

Today, with burnt hands, bruised tongue and a damaged soul, I give up my pride and say, " Yes, you were right about everything. Yes, I do love you, Yes, it hurts.

I want to cry and then be done with it. But then my tears too question me, for whom? Why? And refuse to come out. the feeling within just remains and erodes me, gnaws from within. It refuses to budge or reduce in intensity. Magnify if that were possible.

I wish I could cry. Somehow I feel that is the solution to my problems. Solution to the deep sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Solution to me feeling so pathetic all the time, so low that I cant even be happy for you rather here I'm pitying my fate.

What happened to that person in the mirror? That I was so proud of my reflection? Vanity was my vice. Now vanity is what I wish for.

And maybe a little bit of pride..

Happy Birthday

This post is dedicated to my lullaby

There is this one voice that I sleep to each day. Tonight, while the owner of the voice (OotV) is busy studying, I fail to fall asleep, tonight.

 OotV is one of the craziest things to have happened in my life. The one that makes me selfless and mature. Yeah, we were discussing it that day and I realised I really becoming mature. Maybe it is because of the presence of OotV in my life. Maybe, just maybe. It is no secret that OotV has an inflated ego. And such statements just make it worse. But OotV knows what they mean to me.

Now, when I met OotV, I thought they were really pesky. Always wanted to talk about things that I wanted to run away from but once out of frustration (of the situation, not because of OotV), I told them everything. Blurted my heart out. Since that day to this day, they have been nothing but a patient ear. Well more than just that. A pair of strong shoulders to hug me, a sound mind to make me think logically, a kind heart to support me, a firm hand to hold mine.

Well, sometimes we do reverse our roles and I have to knock some sense into OotV. But, than that’s what friends are for. Being crazy, supporting each other, wishing you could be there on their 21st bday.

Oh yeah today OotV turns 21. Join me in wishing OotV a very happy 21st bday. I, somehow, haven’t done justice to them or the relationship we share in this post. But as always, I'm sure OotV will understand what I intent to say and am not saying. They seem to do that a lot with me. (If that is a good or a bad thing, I'm not sure)

Such is our bond that since I had written this on Friday, I had to make some1 proof read it and all those who did thought I was talking about my inner voice. Maybe they are. Sometimes the way they give words to my feelings, the way they say thinks without me saying them is only something someone so close can do. Maybe they truly are my inner voice. 

Happy Birthday, Sloth Bear, Happy 21st. 


I lay on my bed. Frustrated and flustered. Happiness had left me. All it left was void. An empty place. I tried to fill it with numerous things but all was momentary. I tossed

Immediately, my thoughts turned to him. Him that I had let go. I heard news of him doing well. Getting a lot of praise. Everyone saying he was perfect. Suddenly, I remember what it felt to have him touch me. Just holding hands felt wrong. Eerie. Like it didnt belong. No, I dont regret it. I turn.

My thoughts fly to him. Him that I wish could let go. My stomach churns at the very thought of not loving him anymore. It seems like I have done so forever. My head wheels as I contrast the feelings I have for both. Couldn't be more different. I smile sinisterly. I feel cheap. Like a broken rag doll. 

Acute stress, the doctor tells me. I need to relax. The aches and pains are result of my brain. It is all in mind. My mind which isnt mine anymore. Thoughts go on in random fashion. Like a presentation gone haywire. One slide after another with no proper sequence. Memories, dreams, reality, fears all flash one after the other. 

Somehow, of all that has eluded me. Pain never has. 

Ps: It is fiction. A few posts inspired this :)