Remains of childhood

It's a funny feeling...when memories of your childhood get recalled on seeing a visual, smelling a flower, tasting a candy, crushing a leaf or feeling the warm wind in your face. You so wanna live the moment and go back in time and all you know is that it's impossible. You can't even hold to it and can't even let go...

Mandy was wandering in a lane he had long forgotten; there was no cement pavement then - just the black soil and the foliage. He loved crushing the dry leaves under his feet. He was wearing small blue slippers which would start clapping if one walked fast. Mandy used to run fast and slow and create some type of rhythm out of the clapping sound.

The afternoon was a familiar one. A dry, idle summer afternoon, the loo warming up your eyes, whispering in your ears and filling up your nostrils. The air was warm and Mandy loved the feel of a random cool breeze on a sweaty afternoon. As usual all people around were sleeping except kids his age who hated idle afternoons and hence went out in the small gardens or played games. Some would go driving tyres with a stick - there was a competition out there - bicycle tyres, motorcycle tyres, scooter tyres - each tyre was different and hence each boy was special.

Mandy was ambling around. It was a time he liked because he could do things and no one could notice - going out in the heat and feeling the silence around, climbing trees, digging small holes and seeing the insects within, making a paste of green leaves and collecting their juice in old medicine bottles. Doing experiments on plants, injecting ink in a lemon on a tree, eating rose petals and basil leaves. It was a time when things had no meaning or definite purpose, everything was a matter of free will.

Sometimes, his mother would not let him out in the heat. Inside the house, it was all different - dark and cold as if it were a den. In summers, windows had panels covering them - the ones with a Bamboo framework and filled with Khus twigs. Mandy loved watering the panels to keep them moist; in turn when hot outside air would blow through these panels, it would come in cold and fragrant, it was so nice a feeling. The air-cooler ran in a continuous drone and kept the rooms cool. The cooler's fan was guarded by a metal grid and if one went near it and spoke in the fan, one's voice would reverberate and sound like a robot's voice. Mandy loved singing songs in the cooler fan.

When at home other pass-time were making Rasna, eating ice from the refrigerator, observing how people look when they sleep. And then there would be a blunder like ants gathering over stains of Rasna, glasses breaking, overdose of concentrated Rasna, breaking and disturbing the slowly setting ice-cream kept in the freezer (those days they rarely bought ice-cream - they made it at home).


Then they would take bath in the evenings on the terrace. This was to cool one down and also to let the heat out of the terrace floor. Even by the evening, the terrace floor was so hot that one could see vapours coming out of it when watered. Mandy liked playing with the water jet out of the pipe. They would make patterns in air - rings, spirals, zig-zag lines with the water jet.

Mangoes were a daily treat in summer. Children would practically smell of mangoes in summer. Mandy was fond of going shopping for fruits with his father or grandfather. He liked remembering what Mango variety comes from where, how they looked and tasted and even their latest rates.

During summers, ladies would come together and make papads, pickles and what not. All items were a treat. Children would fight to help making these items - this way they could eat the batter for papads or the pulp and pieces of raw mango for pickles - they also liked to hear the conversation the ladies had.

Then in the night the entire family would go for a walk. It slowly cooled down in the night. It was Mandy's favourite time. When small children complained of their legs paining, parents would carry them in their arms and children generally slept with their heads resting on their parents' shoulders. It was heaven. Then children would wake up early on the terrace with the sun already heating up and its brightness hurting the eyes.

Several summers have gone by and the summer season still haunts Mandy. It's a very fragile moment when small things you did in your childhood seem so near but so far too. You rarely can get that back.

So what life is - is a journey, full of experiences and moments. These moments and experiences have visuals, smells, sounds, tastes, touches, heat and cool breeze and rain and thunder showers. It is a thing to be cherished and remembered all life. We get to relive these moments in different roles.

Today one may get frustrated when he cannot get back the same settings as his childhood but in future when he/she becomes a parent, there's a different role in which we shall see the same moments repeat. There's this special quality of life which keeps you going on.

It's a funny feeling...when memories of your childhood get recalled on seeing a visual, smelling a flower, tasting a candy, crushing a leaf or feeling the warm wind in your face. You so wanna live the moment and go back in time and all you know is that it's impossible. You can't even hold to it and can't even let go...

Dear Amelie...

Dear Amelie.

This letter should have been written when I was about 20-21 years old. I seem to be late by 4 years now.

Believe me, I have been wanting to write this letter every day ever since I have understood the word -> love. It did take me some time to understand this word and what one needs to be to live upto its meaning, but now I can say that I have and I do.

Amelie ! I love you.

I have always been looking for you. Since the last few years, through all my misendeavours, I have always tried to find you. I did find some with a few qualities like you; but no one had all of them.

So how does it matter -- writing a letter to you now when you are so far away from me and so unreachable...probably you have never seen me.

I wish to tell you how much loving you means to me. Whenever I think of you, the most difficult things in life start seeming as simple to me as breathing. The mere thought that someone like you exists, comforts me. Reality becomes romance for me and romance becomes reality. With you, my life becomes purposeful and my purpose becomes my life.

I want you Amelie. I love your intelligence which doesn't talk worldly things and doesn't solve the problems of the world but makes complicated things in life simple. Your smile diminishes all the misery of the world and I feel like I have met God who has all the answers to this world.

My eyes become wet with tears when I imagine you in my life. I long for a time when you would love me. Just the thought that someone like you would love me makes me ecstatic and I feel like the happiest man in the world.

I think of a time when we would be together -- me waking up each day and seeing your beautiful face and feeling all the contentment in the world. I imagine how beautifully you would fit in my family; you would spread cheer in our home; we would raise our kids and we would take care of our parents. Our family would be a small tree around which an entire ecosystem of friends and relatives would gladly grow. The rituals of daily life would be fun. We would have guests and we would attend functions, hand-in-hand, and I would be the most proud man in the world.

Your touch would turn the household things to living objects. The furniture would walk, the glasses would play music, and the curtains would dance. The walls would befriend us and the floor would move with us. The door bell would sound like birds, the kitchen would hustle and the dishes would bustle and the jars would never be empty. Each morsel you feed us would be a platter full of ambrosia.

Together we would soar the heights of happiness and spread it all around. We would make each other laugh, we would sing each other a song. We would tell the world we do not need anything else and we would never be gone.



I write to you now because I see you everyday but I can't find you. I long for you but I fear that I would never find you. I have lost the confidence of finding you. All these years I have committed the mistake of waiting and waiting and not finding you. Even if I thought it was you, I stayed away thinking what would you think and why would you ever think about me -- you have your own sweet world.

I have grown a bit practical and forgotten my romantic self. I see the reflections of my romantic self in the eyes of young lovers and its memories drive me crazy. Its remembrance brings tears to my eyes and I start thinking whether I have missed the bus for ever and have I become incapable of falling in love?

Tell me Amelie, is the time for that romance gone? Am I still capable of falling in love? Will I still find you? And Would you still love me?

Amelie, I have been waiting for you for so long and I'll be waiting for you all my life.

I love you Amelie. I love you.


- Mandy.




('Amelie' referred here is the character of Amelie Poulain from the French movie Amelie...I love that character very much. I'm in love with Amelie !)

Finally Mandy is awake !

It's 8.30 in the morning and Mandy is laughing.

This has been the first day in this semester when he actually saw his mobile phone ring an alarm. It must have been funny to discover that his phone has a daily alarm of 8:25 am set by someone.
Mandy is suspicious whether his phone works properly or not - how come he never heard that thing before (!).

But there have been many such unprecedented events since last night. Firstly, Mandy was a little startled when he finished watching his fourth movie of the night, removed his headphones and heard some sounds. Those were birds and as he turned behind, he could see through his window, a somber dim light characteristic to a sunrise.
It was a shocker because he had not expected the outside to be such, he still thought it was about 3 or 4 am. When he looked at the time on his computer (which had, in the last ten hours, seen a marathon of movies before having been a host to a chatathlon) the time was 7:17 am.

Mandy is a little amazed to note that he has hardly seen more than 10-15 such mornings in this semester. He bets that he never saw this time in his watch this semester (in other words, he was always asleep at this hour).

As he is unable to sleep and is a little stiff due to last night's exertion (Chatting and watching films - an exertion ?!), he has called up his friend Bapa. Bapa too is awake and they both have headed off to have Tea at a tapri near his hostel (his mess is closed till the next semester starts).

The tea is refreshing and Mandy is observing the road, the light changing every minute and the trees against the beautiful sky.
As he is returning to his room he is watching so many new things. Some people are jogging and some having their morning walks. Mandy even saw his newspaper-man for the first time.

Its a nice feeling altogether. Even waking up early is joyful. He is now typing a 'Good Morning' message for his Mom n Dad. Its a really nice thing to wake up early in the morning. Mandy is now looking forward to reading the elaborate Sunday-newspaper which he hardly has done this semester.

It seems that this morning experience has been a blessing in disguise. Mandy is feeling refreshed and all pumped up for work ! He is now planning to make 'waking up early' as a habit. There are so many nicer things in the world than oversleeping.

Mandy finally seems to be awake !

Shaking off the rust

I met Mandy yesterday after a long while and he was sorry about not being able to meet me often. We did wish each several times as we bumped into each other at various crossroads, but we never really sat together and had a soul talk as we do usually.

Actually even I’m sorry for not meeting you guys.

Anyway, as you would want to know how everything with Mandy going on, it’s fine. He’s got admission to a post graduate programme in a Design school and is extremely happy to see his platter full of menus that he never had tasted.

It’s funny how a person’s reasoning ability keeps on fluctuating with time. Mandy has been seeing a lot of such phases and he chuckles when he talks about it. Actually, he was seeing his engineering college photos and his stomach was as usually churned to see long forgotten faces, recalling extraordinary events and happenings...rekindling old cherished moments.

Well well well... you’ll ask...what happened to the ‘reasoning ability’ that I began with in the previous paragraph about and Mandy chuckles about? It’s like this...

When we crave for something desperately, we are ready to give it our whole and soul; that’s reasonable. Now as a result of well directed and calculated desperation, we may end up achieving the thing and unfortunately that ends our craving. We now, either get trapped in the web of laziness, much like a soldier would after winning a long fought battle, or lose the dignity of labour if we do not find something new to crave for. What happens to the cause for which we slog so much gets lost in the entire dynamics of events. This scene gets even more aggravated if the cause is not compulsive but demands self-motivation. Then follow the phases of uncharacteristic laziness and sudden bursts of energy – we get caught in a current that drags us and we neither swim opposite it or across it. It’s a senseless sequence of events that you surrender yourself to unconsciously. Our reasoning ability diminishes (This is the longest paragraph I must have ever written...look, I got dragged by the current. It was initiated by my desperately wanting to explain you exactly ‘why exactly our reasoning ability fluctuates’!).

Then after a long while (similar to the long interval after which Mandy met me and I met you) we suddenly wake up and break the rut and find another cause to feel craving for...and thus fluctuates our reasoning ability.

Sorry. I know I have bored you but look...I too lost my reasoning ability! I know exactly what’s missing in this post. I haven’t written about Mandy much here.

Mandy is fine but not happy with himself. He is now grown all chubby and started developing fat around himself. Although the scene is not gone beyond control, he’s does not seem to care, and that’s something to care about. With his sage like attitude (read the post ‘9 In A Row’) of no unsolicited feelings about girls, his demeanour is now hailed to ‘I don’t care what happens to me’.

He is now like a sheet of paper on a windy day - regulated by the wind, haywire.

We talked about this same thing for a long while and Mandy discovered another battle that needs a fight. A fight against this fluctuation of reason – the reason to live and shape our life...

But these battles ain't easy. Its a tough fight and an unending one till you discipline yourself and till you find a groove that you fit in.

Its time to say less and do more...

I know its a tough one from Mandy this time and my readers will think what a shift of manner; but I guess that's the way it is this time...its just about shaking off the rust that has accumulated over your beautiful mind...

9 in a row

( Again, I would like to mention here that Mandy and others are all fictitious characters. Only they seem real as their experiences are borrowed from our own lives ! )

It all began with 9.

Mandy was in 9th standard. He was one of the bright students in his class. These guys had a separate group altogether. They never mixed with any girls; would only seldom talk teasingly about them. They however, used to tease each others jokingly, pairing them with girls in the school. All in all, they had no scope for girls in their lives.
Mandy was paired with one of the pretty girls in his class. And then it struck.

The constant utterance of her name and the constant remembrance made Mandy start to think about her and look her with new eyes. He found her really pretty and friendly. Then one fine day Mandy happened to sit next to her in the class (The school followed a constant rotation policy!). He was now talking and finding it interesting.
All this was followed by a lot of interactions and ended up in a misendeavour. Mandy bought a Valentines Day card; he was about to give it to her.

Some wise and timely advice from friends saved him. 9th standard and Valentines cards would have made an infamous combination.
Also, the general alienation from his anti-girls group that he could sense would aggravate if Mandy pursued it further.

Still effusions continued to burden Mandy's soul and he was just not able to divert his mind from this unattempted / failed endeavour.

Every year, the Valentines Day was very depressing for him. He used to think and think about ways to approach but end up thinking about the repercussions.

When he was in 10th he had got a lot of pimples and hence would reject himself.
In 11th and 12th, the emotional stress of thinking about a girl when actually one should give his full attention to studies made him feel guilty.

He wanted to do something but would not.

All throughout his 10th, 11th and 12th standard he just played the silent observer.

When Mandy came away from home for his Graduation, he got over that guilt. Geographical separation had made him forget all that. He enjoyed the new found company of his hostel friends.

He was in his first year when he deplored the Valentines Day; nothing to do with culture issues but for its being responsible for stressing out teenagers. It was an unnecessary thing that created an unnecessary need, a Frankenstein – whom people found troublesome after falling for it.

Mandy was happy with his group and all the sports and fun they had in the hostel.
Then came the second year and the Thunderbolt* (ref. "The Godfather" by Mario Puzo).

She outmatched all. Exquisite.

Mandy had been made wise by all his past experience and kept himself aloof from the Frankenstein. He knew better not to borrow any undue trouble.
But a thunderbolt it was and who could escape it.

However, Mandy's second year Valentines Day ended up peacefully: lost amidst calculating the odds and planning a strike which got over-planned and he had to postpone it to the next season.

This time he was thinking clearly. He did not want this to trouble him and so he just made attempts to know whether the investment was worth the risk.
The more he communicated, the more he got entangled. And then the bait was too hard to resist. All was back to the same old story.

But this time it was not troublesome. He did it. No rejection but no result either.

Days went by.

The fourth year passed in pondering over the past memories and in the hangover of the much cherished "Disclosure of Emotions" done in the previous year.
Some meetings here and there did pull some strings but neither was the amplitude high nor the frequency matching.

In the due course of all these years, Mandy has discovered so many like-minded and like-suffered friends, in his office, in his shared bachelor accommodation and in this world, who are all in search of someone, whom even if they locate, end up in neverland.

All in all, Mandy is all dry now. He has become immune to all the fuss and the undue excitement. The innumerable doctrines that have been carved out in his mind - ranging from "Love At First Sight" to "Attraction" to "Infatuation" to "Flirting" to "One Sided Love" to "Love" to "True Love" to "Unconditional Love" to "Love Cannot Be Arranged" to "No One To Love" to "Why Do You Search Love? Cant You Love Your Parents?" to "Love During College Days Is Useless" to "Desperation For Love" to "No One Loves Me" to "Do You Love Yourself ?" – has left his mind exhausted and uninventive in these matters. There is an added tension of getting older day by day and the need to concentrate more on one's career.

This 14th February was the 9th Valentines Day in a row that Mandy has seen and fortunately or unfortunately there are no bells ringing and no butterflies in the stomach.

Mandy has realized that love is a sweet coincidence when two people like each other on coming together. It cannot be planned. It cannot be made to happen. It is spontaneous and you do not need to get tense. If it has to happen it will or it wont.

Someone has said, " If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you, it is always yours, otherwise it never was. "

Drained Brains

Everyday coming out and in through the gates of my company, I see some chaps distributing pamphlets. These are mainly the same promotional schemes of Airtel, Vodafone. Although, almost every employee here already has a mobile phone, he/she takes special care that the distributing guy does not run out of his job and hence thankfully takes this paper and just after walking a few steps, either throws it away or carries it. Some say they use it for rough work even though our offices are already flooded with waste papers. They say it helps feed the families of the rag pickers and paper recyclers.

When people have breakfast, they use paper cups to drink water and since their royal manners do not allow them to use that same cup to drink tea, they throw it away and take tea in another. Because of their mind being engrossed in work left at the desk, they carelessly take a stack of paper plates to carry foodstuffs.

In the office, most of us were born and brought up in European countries: the air conditioners run at temperatures below 19°. Since we cannot hire a person to take care of the lights, I have been having the privilege of customarily putting off the outdoor lights. Unfortunately, if I do not come out of my office before lunch, the foyer is left bathing in the numerous lights. Either people can’t distinguish between on/off lights after a smoke (for which so many shuttle in and out of the office) or, I guess, there is some optical-illusion-spell cast over the foyer of my office - so many people find it hard to discover the dazzling lights and put them off. Since this spell has never worked on me, I sometimes feel like Harry Potter. I pray there is no such spell cast over other places.

Then comes lunch time when we leave our monitors on to entertain the angels with fancy screen savers. I guess it is mighty hard to switch off the monitors.

There are some very nice people who become special nice in the canteen; they use almost 5 to 6 tissue papers to clean their dish; one more to clean the spoon. I even saw an innovative guy using one tissue paper to clean one compartment of the dish at a time and imparting justice to all (there are 7 such compartments in the dish). Thankfully he was prompt like the others to throw the barely used tissues and flood the waste bin. Then there are some who find it very disturbing to see fresh, unused tissue papers kept at the counter. They do not hesitate to stuff a handful in their pockets.

Then comes the food. There was a group I saw a few days ago: three skinny girls. They could any day give a complex to the ants (an ant is known to be able to carry 3 times its own weight). I actually owe my sincere gratitude to them; they saved my efforts in visualizing the maximum carrying capacity of the dishes. Surprisingly, they were also very diet conscious and ate a meager 5% of the stuff.

India is a country of lights. In a constant attempt to maintain this legacy, we keep the lights on even after office hours.

Seeing all this for last one year, a thought came to my mind. We all work in one of the world’s most famous Engineering Company. What we do, sets up an example, a model for the rest to follow. I remember some nut somewhere on TV commenting about the responsibility of people towards the environment. He even dared to expect consciousness towards the environment from literate people. To top it all, the stupid guy also had the guts to appeal all the engineers in the world to take special care of the environment.

I think of inviting that guy to our company. After all he should see the IDEAL practices we follow and be educated by the so called ENGINEERS of one of the world’s most famous Engineering Company.

They All Sail In The Same Boat

(This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance with a living/dead person is not intended. So please do not make public guesses about who the characters are.)

“Hi. Well…actually I had something to…actually I need a favour. Can you please come down to the college foyer? It’s urgent.”
“Yup. Just a minute. I’ll be there.”

Mandy put the receiver down. He was feeling nothing. It happens always when you have a multitude of thoughts and emotions to handle.
He had some time before he could see her coming from the hostel. He ambled restlessly towards the college gate.
Usually, he would carry his I-card and promptly show it to the security guard. Today, he had forgotten it. He went past the guard just looking into his eyes. The guard couldn’t ask him anything.

He breathed a long sigh as he approached the foyer. He involuntarily went to the concrete bench he’d thought suitable.
He was sitting with his back to the road that came from the hostel. It was quite pleasant at this time in the campus. Some known faces passed by and waved. Mandy just winked sufficient enough not to invite anyone to talk – people have this habit of eating up other’s time when they are idle. It was the month of February and there were no exams due for two months.

His eyes kept on turning back. The road appeared the only thing that mattered to him tonight. The moonlight in the backdrop and the yellow glare created by the sodium street lights made him feel mixed in his mind. It was too difficult to handle the two ideas together – one, of the relaxed, positive and infinite mood of the moonlight; the other, of the constrained focus of the lamps.

His shoes felt heavier to him, hanging down to his legs.

And there she was, carrying a wallet in her hand. She was wearing her night pyjamas and a round neck T-shirt.
He forced a smile as she apprehensively smiled back and sat next to him.

“Well…nothing to….huh….I don’t know how to start this but see…..there’s something I need your help in.”
“Hey. Anytime yaar. Tell me.”
“Actually, I need your help for….and you are….like…..you can do something about it. The thing is……there’s a girl I like very much.”

Her look changed immediately. She kept her wallet aside, folded her knees towards her chest and locked her arms around them. The apprehension in her eyes changed to curious attention: ’Mandy talking about a girl and that too calling me down unusually….I need to make him feel comfortable….’
She smiled. Her eyes gave him a go ahead to narrate her, his problem.

“See…why I called you down is because…..There’s a girl I like very much. I don’t say ‘I love very much’ cuz love is when its from both sides. I…I just like her very much. Initially, I never had any plan sort of, that this is the girl and I want her or something. Simply, she was the most beautiful girl for me at the first sight. In one of the college cultural events, I happened to interact with her.”
“Then there were some small encounters that made me really admire her as a person….as in…she is so sweet and caring….much like you are….I don’t know about other girls.”
“I just cant stop thinking about her. Actually, I had thought of telling this to her directly….but I don’t know how she will react. I sort of tend to eat up my words and forget my lines in her presence.”
“So the thing is…you have to…please….tell her that I like her – I just can’t think of anyone else so nice. Its actually getting on my mind and I need to shed off that load….there’s no point in consuming yourself like this….I mean, I become hollow at times.”
“Will you tell this to her?”

“Who’s she?” Her eyes were blushing – seeing such a fervent call.

“It’s you”.

There was a deep sigh and then a long silence. None of them seemed to break it. There was an abrupt brake applied, a deafening silence followed.
Her grip on her folded legs loosened and her hair fell down in smooth pleats. Her attentive eyes were now lost into something.

“Did you see it coming….when I was telling all that?” Mandy broke the silence with a foolish look on his face. He was clueless as to what would happen. His thinking process had stalled the instant he uttered ‘It’s you’.

She let a deep breath pass and said,”Yes.” And then she smiled. The smile had more of a hint of admiration than any other feeling.
“Actually….whatever I said is……sorry...I used such a gimmick…but…..I feel so much light now. Whatever I said was so much my thought process since so many days. And I wanted to tell you each time I saw you. I don’t know how you react now…but this is it.”
“I didn’t tell this to you to propose you or something. Just I wanted you to know this. How you react is so much secondary now. The fact, that I admire someone so much and now I don’t have to hide it or suffer under the pressure of hiding it, is sufficient to keep me happy.

Mandy was lost and floating. His eyes had become calm. They looked as if they had survived a torrent – suffered in the process – but still survived by the grace of the lease he had given himself, by facing and embracing the torrent.

She soothed the weary soul by her kind reply. She told him that even she liked a boy in her school and had been through all this. She acknowledged that she admired and celebrated the feeling of someone’s love for someone.

Mandy was relaxed now. They had a long chat like fellows of the same clan. He told her his stories, of how he had composed poems on love and how he would get repelled from good food thinking about her eating hostel food everyday.
He told her how he had sleepless nights and how pure his feelings were – burnished, and out of the furnace where every vice, every random thought is destroyed and what remains is a pure substance.

An hour had passed when they realized it was time to depart. Mandy looked into her eyes, gave a smile and captured the gay and innocent twinkle in her eyes.
He started walking out towards the gate. The guard observed him walk past and felt as if he had seen a moment of truth.

Out of the gate Mandy started walking, his pace increasing gradually, his heavy shoes acting like propellers. He was running now at a decent pace.
His thoughts had been streamlined.
He didn’t feel exhausted and continued to run. People coming in his way, dividers and vehicles on the road didn’t appear to him as obstacles. He ran home.

Reaching his home he walked past his invisible room-mates and collapsed on the bed.
He was not crying. He was too ecstatic to control his tears. In sudden sprouts of smiles in between his sobs, he communicated the thing to his roomies.

Some moments passed and it was all silence. All were floating in their own world. Like after a torrential rain – everything becomes quiet, Mandy lay still on his bed.
He thought of all those he knew who liked/loved someone. He saw all of them sailing in the same boat as he did, as she did, as everyone in the world did.