a few lines that stayed

Maria: I won't regret a bit if I know I die tomorrow. My parents would be sad. But it don't matter to anyone if I am not alive any more.
Maria is 35, single, doing research; plans to go back to being the professor she was.

Carlos: I bought a red honda civic with sun roof on the second day of my job. However, I have no place to stay, no place to park.
Carlos starts a new job, a new life at Seattle this Monday.

Joe: There is so much that can be done. I am unpredictable this spring.
Joe Sinfield is a professor at CEM, Purdue.


Lucas: There is more to life than basketball. Love and success don't mix. It ain't enough if you dream, u've gotta kill at least a few.
Lucas Scott is the new coach for the Ravens (One Tree Hill)


Sachin: It is very weird, it hurts (when things I know will happen, do happen)
Sachin Verma is in Delhi at JLLM.


And I thought I am the only one fed up.

:song for now:

poetry of the hackneyed

i wake up to no sunshine or breakfast eggs
no clear sky to glide no blooming path to tread
i come back at dusk not to coffee but to whisky pegs
no sleep, no dreams, wide gaping thoughts instead

this sounds like a day like everyday
like a song like every song
like words, of no special need
like poetry, of the hackneyed

they

one quiet evening with distant birds,
i'll try remembering everyone.

all who wove my sky,
all who spilled my seas.

all the names, all their faces,
all the songs, all their words.

get me the magic mirror,
teach me the zen.

tell me how, my Almighty,
tell me when.



and for now...................

my words to a beautiful story- the kite runner

Amir would fly the kite and Hassan would hold the spool. Amir would cut a dozen of those in the sky and Hassan would be his kite runner. Each time he ran to fetch the kite, he would shout to his master,"For you my friend, a thousand times over." Amir was the son of the master, Hassan, the servant's boy.
It started in 1978, when the Russians had turned Afghanistan into their pleasure factory of human masssacre. Afghanistan was losing its green.
But they still flew kites. And this made Amir and Hassan the best pals. Amir was weak, not brave enough to fight the big kids in the street. But he was a good story teller. Once he wrote a story about a poor man who got a cup that would turn tears into pearls. The story ended with the man on a heap of pearls with a bloody knife and a dead wife. Having heard this, Hassan had said," Why kill someone you love? Why didn't he use onions instead?"
Hassan was brave, but small in size, besides being a servant's son. He couldn't save himself one day while he was getting back with the kite Amir had won. He was sodomized by a grownup kid. Amir saw everything happening hiding behind a wall. Since then he knew he had failed his friendship.
He stayed away from Hassan as much as possible. He tried his best to make Hassan hate him. Then one day the servants left the house. So did the master and his boy. They escaped to Pakistan and then to the US.
Came 1988 and Amir graduated only to tell Baba, his father, a store owner now, he wanted to become a writer. He married Soraya. At the wedding, she asked him as he looked at her,"What do you see?" "I see the rest of my life", he had said. Shortly after Amir's Baba died. He became a successful writer. But he could never have a child with Soraya."God has always been fair," he would say to himself.
Twelve years later, Baba's friend in Pakistan called. He asked him to fly down to Lahore. When he did, he came to know that Hassan had been shot by the Taliban while he was taking care of his house in Kabul. And then came the fact that blew away his mind. Hassan was the illegitimate child of Baba. Hassan was his brother. All those days of kite flying and story telling flashed before Amir. And the heinous act he had witnessed cowardly came back to him.
Hassan had a son, Sohrab who lived in an orphanage now. He had to be brought out of the hell. It ws perhaps Amir's only way to be good again.
With Farid, a trusted driver, they went into Afghanistan. Afghanistan was now a blazing cemetery. Disguised as Talibans they made there way to Kabul and then to the orphanage only to know that Sohrab had been taken away by a local Taliban head for his pervert pleasures. God has always been fair. Amir had to get this boy out, take him back and make him his son. In pursuit of the boy, he met Assef, the same kid who had molested Hassan was now using his son. A fight followed and Sohrab who was as quick as his father with the slingshot hit Assef in the eye. Amir, Sohrab and Farid fled. They were lucky.
Amir brought back the boy to his wife and he was his family now. But it was not easy for the child. He once told Amir that he had started forgetting the faces of his parents. And that it was good his parents had died because he couldn't show them his face now. He felt dirty.
Then came the kite flying day. Amir flew the kite while Sohrab watched. As soon as Amir cut a kite in the sky, he saw Sohrab smiling. The healing had begun. Amir asked him, " Do you want me to be your kite-runner?" He nodded in agreement.
And as Amir ran to fetch the kite he said,"For you my friend, a thousand times over."

how my maggi turned out to be super-delicious

I wish I had remembered everything that had happened. Its like the dream that you are sure of but will never know what was it like. I had created a masterpiece but will never know how I did it.
I started with boiling a small pack of mixed vegetables that had peas, beans, carrots and corn, all neatly chopped to perfect size. They looked beautiful in the skillet which had just enough water to help them relax, enjoy the warm waters after the freezing winter in the fridge.
Well, pretty soon they realized they were neck deep in troubled waters. If I am not wrong, I added the noodles in the skillet as soon as the water started boiling. Also, I had used a fork and not a spoon to stir.( I dont want to miss a thing, just to be sure it was not a forgotten dream.)

I waited for magic to happen. But alas! The phone rang. I left the kitchen like a killer leaving the crime scene. When I came back to my noodles, all the water was gone, some spilled, some took the arial route. So I added more water as I cursed the phone, the caller and the stove. I forgot myself there to be blamed. Finally the mix was added. But like I always do, I was not finished yet. The cook in me said-" This is no work of art." So I added everything in the spices cabinet. A little bit of this and a little bit of that. I even added crushed almonds. Why? Because I could. It's God's little trick to put odd things at odd places. I forgot myself there to be blamed again.

And with little expectation for my work on the stove, with curbed down taste buds and letting no emotion overcome the only relevant one-hunger, I ate. And I ate. I loved my maggi. I always do. And I blame myself for this.

:)

another fairy tale

The phone rang thrice before he picked it up to hear the voice he'd been waiting for days. He believed that this was the voice that would relieve him of his solitude and sadness. They were going to meet tonight.
He took the much needed shower, put on his best clothes and cologne . He was ready to meet her. There she came all in red. She had grown thinner, but looked beautiful as ever. Christmas break had done wonders for her. Before he could say anything, she hugged him and he didn't want to let go. A kiss on the cheek later, he asked her how she'd been. She smiled. They were together for a few hours with other people they knew. But all he thought of was the hug.
He wanted to talk to her, he wanted to tell her that he liked her. He couldn't. She drove him back to his place. He didn't want to go back, he wanted to go to her place, talk to her, stop feeling lonely for a change. But a feeling got over him while he saw her driving. And he said-"I'm glad you came back." She laughed, touched his cheek like he was a kid.
Dan was 19 when he fell in love with Sarah, his distant aunt, single and beautiful.

fairy tale

They walked next to each other. They walked with the thousand others. Every single day since Thanksgiving, they had walked on this street, sometimes even touched each other, a gentle brush, unknowingly. But their eyes couldn't meet. She had coffee in one hand and a bag in the other. He had a newspaper and a dog. And there was music-the taps on the asphalt and the whispers in the air.

She had a history of broken relationships. She was beautiful. And single for quite a while now. He on the other hand could never build a relationship. He was intelligent.
The weather forecast was snow and winds at 30mph. They walked fast to get back home. And then it happened. She almost tripped him. She wouldn't have cared to stop and say sorry. But she noticed the dog. And then noticed the man.
Now, each time they walked on the street, they made sure to look for faces and walk slow. They saw each other, smiled at each other and kept smiling for the rest of the day.
Until one day the man stopped her, he had to. He was bewitched by her. He said Hi!
Jake and Emma fell in love.