The moment is gone..

The weather is overcast. There is a deep breeze. The trees are dancing. The sky is playing hide and seek with the clouds. The road is long and winding. There is nobody in sight. It is just me. Just me and the perfectness of everything around me. I see the speedometer reach 50kms..60kms.. It moved past 60kms. The bike is screeching in exhilaration. My heart says keep going. My mind says slow down, this is dangerous. My heart says be reckless, at least this once, when everything is perfect. My mind says no, be cautious. The war between the heart and the mind starts, but I am far away from it all. I am with nature, with the winding road, with the bend in the road, with the movement of the trees, with the pulse of the wind, with Mother Nature.

A puff of smoke hit me directly on my face. I woke up. Reality hit me. The moment was gone. I was back in the battle. I was back to win the war. The war of life. The war of the wars, which plagues every human being, not letting them live in that moment for ever. I came back to reality. But little did I know that I left both my mind and heart there, in that moment, where everything was perfect.

-Aishwarya Kumar.

A different feel, altogether!

I woke up every single day for a whole year, looking up at the ceiling and cocking my ears for the familiar sound of M.S singing her famous Vishnu sahasranamam, mom yelling along with the C.D. player, dad yelling over the racket that M.S. was creating, Pooja’s deep breathing. I hear nothing. There is dead silence. I look around me and then realize that the scenario is far from what I had wanted it to be. Two beds, next to mine, cramped together, and two people on the bed, sound asleep was what I saw. I sat up, rubbing my eyes and it all came to me. I was in hostel. I was alone. There was no mom to wake me up. There was no dad to yell at me for tying my lace wrong. There was no sister to fight with me when I fought for the last dosa. There was no M.S. noise to make me want to throw stuff and punch people out of the way (well, I guess I have told you enough about my burning passion for her voice!).

I moved to the common bathroom and saw my reflection on the mirror. My hair was red and bushy and my eyes were bulged up like that of a frog’s. I was somebody else totally. I couldn’t remember the girl I used to be a year back. I couldn’t imagine being the girl I was a year back. I was timid, with oily hair and never cared about anything but my books. Everything had changed in the past year. I found friends, I lost many. But finally, the people who made me strong are the people who are with me and who will be with me for ever.

Parvathya, a long haired girl with bright shiny face and the cutest dimple I had ever seen looked at me, the second day of college a year back. I looked back at her. She looked elusive and mysterious. She never talked much except for a few sentences here and there. She looked like somebody who had so much grief inside her and yet smiled. I liked her instantly. She said “I like the way you mix match with printed pants and plain kurtas”. I knew then that she knew nothing about how disgusting I dressed and how illogical and dumb my clothes looked. (I kept this fact to myself and parted with a courteous thank you) She became somebody without whom I cannot imagine a life. She became a part of who I am, a very vital part which will never leave me. I say “hello” on the phone like her, I over use the words “thrilled”, “dumb” and “bye” just to prove that I got it from her. I brutally insult her, I snap at her, I know I have hurt her, many a times. Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve someone like her, but eventually I realized that I was there when she needed me and she was there when I needed her and I knew that no matter what, she would always be there for me, now and for ever. She squishes my ears like it’s her birth right, she bites it like that is her greatest ambition. There are innumerable movies that we have watched together, most of them out of sheer inability to listen to her go on about what a boring person I am and how I waste my life! I don’t even remember how many times we have gone on the purple scooty and how many times were so close to getting called up by the cops. Every day is an adventure with her and though I am kind of used to it, she surprises me every day. Her face is a sun, shining its best, for ever. She can make even the saddest day happy, what with her infectious grin. I asked her one day, “What would you do if I were being punched to death by a group of thugs?” what she said touched me. She said “I will protect you till my last breath. I will shield you.” Though I laughed it off, what she said was something any human would want another person to say. What she said would have made any person jealous. I will hold on tight to it, for ever. And this is for the number of people who have called you clingy and boring and what not.

“You have lost one of the sweetest and most amazing person on earth. You have lost the most caring and most selfless person I have ever known. You have lost a loyal and faithful being. I pity you. I pity your existence. You were given a chance to know her. You threw it away. You chose it, but you will never get someone even close to her again.”

Nidheya, a wild girl, who I never noticed, even two months into college, was a surprise package. A voracious reader, she was one of a kind. She had wild ideas and a creative brain and struck me as someone different and ingenious. She talked and talked and talked and never felt bored. She can make conversation even in the middle of the night. She can talk about anything from books to T.V. shows to movies. She introduced me to some amazing series and made me read like a maniac. She never left it at that, she called me up in the wee hours of the night to talk to me about it. We slowly got to know each other. There was something definitely unique about her. She wanted to color her hair purple, wanted to get high only with people whom she could trust and she wanted to talk. Yes, so you get the point. Addicted to Harry Potter, and many other book series and T.V. shows, she made me want to read and watch them as well. I never really got to know her when I was with the people who I actually thought were friends. When I did get to know her, I somehow always think that she was the person who brought me out of the shyness and made me a strong person. We have gone on innumerable photography expeditions, have spent hours at a time talking about characters in a book, have spent hours at a time, skimming books in land mark.

“Oie you are getting late for college! What are you doing, staring at yourself in the mirror?” I started and looked around and saw my room mate, eyeing me warily. I brushed past her, muttering something about no freedom and no time to get lost in thoughts.

I am at my grand mom’s house. My mom is here, to do everything she can to reduce my grand mom’s burden during my stay here for my internship. She wakes me up every morning. She even fed me dosa today. The familiar sense of being looked after crept over me and I smiled to myself. I touched my mom’s cheek and she looked at me, quizzically. I just waved and left the house. She came running after me, to say bye. She waited at the front door, waving at me, till I went out of sight. I remember standing on my toes to wave one last time before the red car swept her away from my view. I walked towards my goal, content that I have people who have made me who I am. I walk, happy that I am wanted. I walk across, feeling immensely up beat, content about how my life has turned out.

Cheers,

Aishu

A role model in the making

The morning was hot and humid. We were grumbling about the summer internship as we made our way up the class. What we did not anticipate was the man who was standing inside the class when we reached. I looked at my watch and exclaimed out loud,” wow, I am on time. That means he is early.” I was surprised. I was inspired. The lecturer who was to conduct the photography classes for us this internship came ahead of time.

I settled down in my chair and looked at him. He was tall with grey hair in the sides. He was some where in the mid fifties, I guessed after doing my math. He wore a long red line on the middle of his fore head. He wore glasses and smiled a lot. He said “This is not a class room. This is a place where both of us will learn and explore.” He smiled down at all of us. I was beginning to like his entry.

From then on, the 12 day internship classes with him were a blur. From teaching us the techniques of photography to showing us his beautiful pictures of tsunami and cricket, he bowled us over. He was funny, he was genuine, he was humble, he was honest. I started looking at him with awe. Nobody had it all in them. He did. He made learning a new and exciting experience. He is my role model. He is my guru. He taught us what photography is. He taught us what life is.

I know most people will not understand how anybody could become so attached to a person in such a short span of time. But I did. 12 days were enough for me to know him and revere him.

“Life is a race, thum nahi baagoge tho ….” He said that in Virus style and the class burst out laughing.

There were assignments, there was lots of work to do. But there was enjoyment and a kind of enthusiasm that cropped up inside me and sat in the middle of me during the internship.

I wanted to make something for him on the last day of the internship. I drew a camera on a big piece of paper. My friend wrote a brilliant poetry for him. We made the class sign. When we gave the hand made card to him, he read it for about 5 minutes. I could see it in his eyes. He was moved. He said “even if you had bought a card and given it to me, it wouldn’t have had the same impact. I am so moved. Thank you so much.”

When he left, I had tears in my eyes.

I know life is fast. I know people move on. I know some day you might not even remember me. But you will remain my favorite teacher and my role model for ever. Thank you so much for deciding to take classes for us in your bust schedule. Thank you for making us feel special. Thank you for sharing your experiences with us.

Cheers,

Aishu

Dearest Damon,

                        I feel betrayed. I feel upset. I feel empty. More than all, I feel frustrated. I have seen you grow, seen you make mistakes, seen you say sorry, seen you cry, seen you tearing people apart, seen you fall in love. I knew I would never stop loving you from the time you said “Hello brother” in the first episode.

Your unconditional love, your stirring compassion, your pure soul, has taught me so much. Below the wit and sarcasm lies the most tender heart. You never expected Elena to choose you but her decision broke your heart. I saw it in your face. Some times I feel I understand you more than her. Sometimes I feel nobody ever understood the deepest portions of your heart.

When she said that she chose Stefen, some part of me just broke. Even if she comes back to you, even if she realizes that she loves you more, I don’t think she deserves you. I don’t think she even knows that she is playing with your feelings. Heck, you deserve a lot more. You deserve I love yous and kiwi fruits.

Our tear gland was on a roll today. “It will always be Stefen, wont it?” you just knew the right thing to say to make us all weep, dint you?

No matter what Elena thinks, no matter how Elena feels, we all love you. We will always love you. It will always be Damon.

You are not a fictional character to us. You are our inspiration. You are so close to our heart that it is difficult not to weep for you. You are and will always be our favorite.

She chose the safe option, she chose the good option. But you are her best option. I hope it isn’t too late by the time she realizes that.

Even if she doesn’t deserve you, I want you to be happy. And you will be happy only if you are a part of her life. I am thus still pinning my hopes on Delena and I will always.

Your fan,

Aishu

The man who taught us the art of patience.

Dedicated to two of the most wonderful people in the world

Rahul Dravid- without whom I wouldn’t have learnt the art of patience, without whom I wouldn’t have started watching cricket in the first place, without whom I would not have learnt how to look at guys and call them “cute”, without whom cricket, is incomplete.

Gokul Ram- without whom I wouldn’t have got the emotions to write this, without whom Dravid would have not had the most ardent fan of his, without whom the loss of Rahul would not have been so impossible.

 Patience is an art. It is the most difficult of all arts. It is the most respected of all arts. It is the most difficult to master. The master of patience will have nothing to fear. He will have nothing to worry about. This master will find his place in all the hearts of human being. He will live and make other people see his way of seeing things. He will pour out his heart and soul for the cause of other people and will live to show what it takes to respect and be respected.

      From “jammy” to “the wall” to “Mr. dependable”, Rahul Dravid has come a long way. He has built a wall in the hearts of the people and never once did he shatter the wall of trust that millions of people built in their hearts for him. A small cute boy he was when he first walked into the field in the year 1996 against the mighty Lankans. He has transformed into a soft leader, an amazing architect of the game, the irreplaceable aspect of the team, the wonderful beginner of the game, the scintillating striker of the ball, the mesmerizing defender of the ball, the biggest and most enthralling wall of the country, of the world. Now, it is the pain of reality that stands before us: his 20 years of cricketing carrier is over. The wall will never come back to protect us, to soothe our anxious mind during times of India’s struggle, to stand there and be there for us. He has gone for good, a decision well taken, but he has left behind a gaping hole in the hearts of millions of people, I included.

         Not once did the over nosy media find fault with his personal life, not once was he scrutinized for wrong doings, not once was he reprimanded for carrying out something which he shouldn’t have. My best friend always says that a man will become totally brilliant only when his skills are accompanied by the best of characters and the diligent of manners and behavior. His respect for mankind, especially women, is what places him millions of miles apart from the common man.

        Yes, he is a father, a husband, a son and a grand son, apart from being a cricketer, but what he has left behind in the annals of history is a combination of all the traits of a wonderful person and a person whose footsteps will be followed but in vain by millions of ardent fans of him.

         Moved to tears, we were, when the news of his retirement came out. He was calm and composed, never once losing his control. But the people around him and the infinite fans watching in front of the television sets found unanswerable tears falling from their eyes, unable to fathom the degree of the loss. This is One of the biggest losses to the history of cricket and has created such a deep impact on the minds of the people to such an extent that the minds have rendered impossible to come out of the shock of the loss. Sure, people will eventually move on and live a life without Dravid, but will never be able to stop themselves from thinking of him at every turn of their lives.

       Mahan sages tell that life is a circle, a Man is born, he lives, cherishes and then perishes, but in this case, Rahul Dravid will never perish. He will live in our hearts for ever, even after we are gone.

    

With unexplainable ache,

Aishu

The world is out there! Go grab it!

As I walked into the house with my grand mother tailing behind me, I saw a shy looking person walk across the room, hurrying after looking at us. He welcomed us inside ad ran up the stairs. His house was like a typical south Indian house, with statues and pictures of the different gods of the Hindu mythology. The house was strongly built and had an extension towards the right hand side with steps leading to the 1^st floor. We were guided by his mother and we walked up the stairs and entered the studio. The room on the outside had a few equipments to record music like mike, keyboard, a monitor and wires. When we were called inside the inside room of the studio, I looked and blinked and looked again. An amazing sound proof room with high tech equipments were all in place, ready to take off for the day. He asked us to take out seats in a black leather sofa and then took his place in a cushion chair opposite to us.

     “how may I help you,” Girishh asked, taking me by surprise. (I expected something like “shoot your questions”) I congratulated him on his success as a debutante music director for Pandiraj’s movie ‘marina’ and spoke for sometime about the innocence and depth of his songs in the movie.” ( in journalistic terms: breaking the ice) I then went on to ask him different questions as to how he got into the film industry and how he went about with the entire complicated process. He was quite casual with his approach to the whole interview and I realized that I was getting more and more comfortable as the conversation progressed. “take down notes, you. How will you remember all the facts otherwise?” my grand mom shot in (what timing, paati!) I had to deal with her for a few seconds and concentrated on the interview again. I got quite a few exciting tit bits out of the conversation and when I got out of the studio, felt happy and proud of the fact that I have made my start in the big wide world of media on a positive note and will hopefully take off and make better attempts on achieving a stirring role in the million dollar business.
P.S: Girishh bhai! amazing first attempt! way to go! all the very best for your future :)

Stifling my laughter all the way!

The six hours sleep that I had was not enough I guess. My mind was still not fully awake and my body was yearning to lie on the bed for ever. I got up from my bed, stretching myself and frantically rubbing my eyes to properly wake up. I got dressed for college, still half asleep. I knew the day was going to be long and hard because right after college, we had our spot news photography submission to make and this means: roaming around the city with camera in hand and all.

We left college, and left for our khoj of subjects which would make it for spot news. We usually enjoyed taking pictures of the diverse subjects around the city but one most annoying factor that we had to put up with while on this assignment is that we are forever infected with “guys-look at you-tease you-irritate the crap out of you syndrome.” Learn to live with it, says one of my friend, but it’s not so easy for me. My anger just gets the better of me when I see immature guys trying to make an ass of themselves by trying some ju ju ( in Damon’s language) in front of us. But let me tell you, it is usually a miserable flop because we don’t even look up to se what they are saying or doing.

We were walking on the road, cameras poised, ready to capture any significant occurrence when we saw two guys, both in blue, in a bike. They were doing some weird kind of dance. It looked for a second like they were flailing their hands and legs. Amused, the three of us looked closer, only to see them waving and dancing in our direction. What they expected us to do or how they expected us to react, god only knows, because the only reaction from our side was “acting like they don’t exist”.

Five guys walking towards us saw us with the cameras and one of the lot went,” you-camera-having-me, him; you, him-picture-take! (If you are wondering what that Shakespere was trying to say, here goes the meaning: you have cameras. Take pictures of my friend and me and then of us [you and me]!) all we could do was stare at him and wonder “Shakespere would feel proud of you, my boy!”

All this has become a part of our lives now and we still find pleasure in clicking pictures with pain-in-the-asses all around us! After all what’s the fun without facing some trouble in life!

P.S: The photography session went on well that day. we went back home, laughing as we thought of the number of guys we had to wad off that day!