To paradise...

 

 
It was the most beautiful thing that I had ever seen. It was the land of the fortunate ones. The colour of the sky was not white or blue but brilliant red. It exuded passion and love. The luxuriant verdant hue of green grasses were mesmerising to say the least. Open fields with lovely scattered houses were to be seen everywhere. The exquisite houses transuded grace and grandiose. Every house was coloured in white. They looked so pure and innocent and at the same time reflected power and authority. I could see the only mode of transportation was horse-carriage and the horses were beautifully crafted. Was I seeing the 'Chariots of Gods'?

It was Friday evening and my friends had decided to go to Shalom to spend the evening in the company of beers, food, half clad girls and retro music. I consented to be a part of their revelry, however, grudgingly. I should have listened to my heart. As it turned out, it was not a wise decision to go to Shalom.

I have always enjoyed a few drinks with my mates whenever the occasion has called for but this evening was starkly different. I was morose and completely withdrawn. For some reason, I wanted to go home and experience solitude. Friends become obnoxiously friendly after a few pints. Despite my loud resentment of the place and equally strong demonstration of my desire to go home, I was asked to stay. More by their drunken vows of friendship rants as compared to them actually enjoying my company. To think of it, who enjoys the dramatis personae of a gloomy person.

Anyway, despite the severe protests, I managed to escape from the confinement. I step out and I am immediately accosted by the depressive, dark and desolate clouds. It was on the verge of opening up and I could prognosticate a fiercely gloomy weather in no time. The moment I got in my car, it started raining heavily. For a minute, looking at the weather, I decided to go back to the pub but carried on with my journey to the house. The rain drops were so heavy and forceful that it was near impossible to see beyond the windshield. I scuffle along. At times driving at a speed of 10 otherwise 15. The only companion that I had with me on that dark fateful night was the voice of Elton John singing 'there is something about the way you look tonight'. Incidentally my all time favourite number.

I drive along despite the contemptuousness of the weather. And then it happened...

A swerving bus from nowhere hits me front on and that was the last that I remember..

I am dead. I am surrounded by my grieving relatives wrapped in a white sheet. I can see my mum looking at my body intently without any expression. Her eyes red and dry with excessive crying. My sister wailing with uncontrollable ferocity. Brother looking glum and trying hard to control his emotions. And I could see what I had always wanted to see. How would my family react after I die? I wanted to get up and give a final hug to everyone. Tell them that its OK and everything would be fine but I was dead.

The grim reaper 'Yamraaj' finally came and said, time to go. I took a last look at everyone, said my final goodbye silently and left with him without any protest. That's when I reached the pearly gates of paradise and got stunned with its beauty. Unfortunately the pleasures of its beauty could only be dispensed to me after my death. What a paradox.

I am happy in the company of gods now. They are taking good care of me and from above here, I endeavour to protect all of you. May you live a long and blessed life.

Until we meet, take care and have fun...

Daughters of the world!!!

Congratulations Mr Singh! For some inexplicable reason he chose to address me by my significant other's last name. I could not have cared less. Paradoxically, in the chaos of total silence and stealth, I could not hear beyond congratulations. I even forgot my manners and without thanking the doctor, rushed straight into the delivery room to give, possibly, the warmest hug a husband can give to his wife.

I had not imagined that two people can manufacture (couldn't think of any other word:-) a third being. Well, I am not scientifically or worldly challenged, however; the moment of truth is invariably hard to digest in the initial phases of its origin.

 I was trying to think of my most unforgettable moment in life and could only think of the moment when my daughter was born. An incomparable moment. Moment that dwarfs every other distinction of my life. I truly think that a daughter is a gift of love. A son remains a son till he takes him a wife but a daughter is a daughter all her life. Joseph Addison had once very rightly quoted, ' Certain is it that there is no kind of affection so purely angelic as of a father to a daughter.  In love to our wives there is desire; to our sons, ambition; but to our daughters there is something which there are no words to express'.

A few years ago, my father passed away. All his children were scattered. My elder brother in New York at that time, My sister in Chandigarh and I was in Bombay. Throughout the travail of my father's illness, two people always accompanied him, my mother and my sister. My sister despite the challenges of not being able to tend to her own son - daughter, husband and her home. I desperately wanted to be with my father throughout the last stages of his mortal journey in life, however; for some reason or the other, I could not perform the duties of a son in the right earnest. I am sure, my father must have thought, how I wish my two sons are not sons but daughters. I always had my father in my thoughts but the much required love and care
could only be given to him by his wife and daughter. My emotional exuberance about the daughters of the world may be a bit biased but the merit of it would be extremely hellacious to challenge.

My daughter is an accession, a void obtained by pure joy of unrestrained determination to create a living being worth loving ardently. She is my most prized possession. A trophy that I willingly and ostentatiously want to show off to the world. Its a privilege to be her father..

To all the daughters: You may outgrow your parents lap, but you will never outgrow their heart!!!

Arbitrary Null

I have been  moving for the last 25 years and I have finally decided never to look back. A very wise and intelligent man had once advised me, ‘when you move on in life, look forward, have the sanity of future, respect your past, relish your memories, learn from your mistakes but never languish your history or the road not taken. The best place and time in your life is now, never lose sight of that.’ This is the best advice I ever received, and one I highly cherish.

I was raised in an upper middle class professional household. My peers and elders made me very aware of the difference between remunerative involved and enjoyably relaxed from a very young age. I grew up enjoying a lifestyle that most in India do. Surrounded by extended family, cousins, weddings, festivals, wonderful neighbours, childhood friends, family friends, chai, colloquial language, ethnic influences, afternoon siestas, desi food and the list goes on, and thus developed a personality and an outlook enriched with experiences from the vagaries of life.

I love my past as it keeps my reveries entertaining and helps value my present. However, what I would like to change is the pace of life. What has happened to the concept of doing nothing, aimless saunters, riches of shilly-shally.. Where are we all running towards? Why can't we stop, ponder, breathe and amble with head held high and no fear of remorse of doing nothing?

Whenever I see my life and soul drifting with the pace unrecognised, I always pause and revisit the advice that I got many moons ago from the wise man. I simply switch on my music, listen to the soulful strings of Prem Joshua and read.. Pure magic!! Maybe this ethereal and transient phase of 'DOING NOTHING' is karmic or maybe not but it does provide sanity to my ever wandering mind.

Transformation

I was ready.. Wore my finest Versace suit, dabbed the most fragrant Yves saint laurent on me, encircled the rolex and asked the driver to get the Mercedes out of the parking lot. I had this great sense of achievement, sense of fulfillment, the false aura of invincibility.. I was pie-eyed with greed, lust, carnal and lascivious colour of power. Nothing could shake my potent belief in myself.. Little did I know how incapacitated, paralyzed and impotent I was in reality.. But like everything else in life, reality also chose to teach me by taking the scruff out of me.. That was 2009..

Contrary to my fear and anxiety, my train journey was turning out to be an experience of travel in the truest sense of the word.. It was like the first kiss.. Unforgettable, memorable and most importantly unplanned. It was like the world had wrapped the arms around me, as if the world tilted on its axis and the constellation performed the most wonderful ballet. I was beginning to see the light of hope, rays of beatitude and glint of jubilance.. My journey had started..It was 2010..

The city of Rameshwaram welcomed me with unbearable noise and chaos. The heat was enerygy sapping. Stench of sweat and perspiration was overwhelming. One didnt need the hangman's noose to die, for the traffic of Rameshwaram was capable enough to bestow the obligation. But despite the frailities of the place, I knew I would get all my answers here.. I could not contain my smile.. My excitement was childlike and palpable. In the melee of getting soaked in the place, I forgot, I was insatiably gluttonous.. I went to the first available restaurant and ordered a rather large piece of dosa. Had I not been hungry, I would have thought twice before entering the 'KUTTU'S ABODE'. Flies were in abundance, chottu's all 5 fingers were neatly soaked in the water glasses that he carried and the chef was perpetually drowned in his own sweat and a liberal dose of his salty water was also being offered to the cooked food.. I changed my mind.. I ordered a bottle of mineral water and a few packs of south indian chips and promptly left Kuttu's abode promising never to return.. The ashram was a pleasant change from the cacophony of the city.. It was quiet and the tranquil sound of waves emanating from the confluence of  Mahodadhi (Bay of bengal) and Ratnakara (Indian Ocean) was enough to put my tumultous mind to ease.. I slept that night with contentment. 4 days of spiritual journey awakened me.. I knew, I was born empty handed and would die empty handed.. I was beginning to see life in a different colour.. It was January 2011..

I am happy with what I have.. I don't desire the luxuries of life.. I only desire peace and happiness for everyone.. I am satisfied with my life.. I will die a happy man.. IT IS TODAY..

Freedom

I had my fill with the numerous pints of beer and succulent kebabs. I wanted to get up, give a loud belch and get into the warmth of my bed and the quilt. I was jolted out of my planning reverie by a loud cacophony of my cell phone's ring tone. I looked at the screen and let it ring. I could absolutely see the irritated face of the caller on the other side. That was the intent. It rang again three times without any success and then went quiet, never to enter the technical world of my mobility. I am sure, we can devise more ways of deflating ego's. I had achieved my purpose with at least one person.

Why do we give our numbers to those who we dont want to hear from ever? Why is it that people only want to say hi during festivals and new year? Do we really believe in what Einstein once said, 'We are only separated in time and distance'? These are some of the perennial questions that I have not been able to answer although I must confess that I have not spent much time on trying to figure out the answers too..

Many moons ago, I had a friend who very wisely once said, 'DON'T WORRY ABOUT THE WORLD COMING TO AN END, ITS ALREADY TOMORROW IN AUSTRALIA'.. His words have remained with me since.. I live my life now without really being bothered who thinks what about me.. Suddenly I feel a great sense of freedom..