On a long road I walked
And a long stretch still lying ahead
The journey had been tough
But I followed the footprints
The footprints of my guide
Telling me the way
In the darkness of night
And during bright sunny day
My guide is very wise
He allows me to think
Constantly he tries
Not to drop any hint
Of what may happen next
In either picture or text
You wonder what kind of guide he is?
What footprints he leaves?
Deep inside me he lives
And question marks he gives
Following them I move ahead
Searching the answers, moving to the end.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Saturday, June 17, 2006
rainy day love story
I wrote this story in the august of 2002, now when I read it I felt like making some changes. But could not do that because it showed the thinking of Richa in that year. Instantly I felt like hugging her and saying well written darling. I also liked it because it shows how I have changed and how I have remained the same.
That was a terrific day, terrific in all sense. And the year, yes the year was also terrific or may be terrifying. A year I would always remember. This goes back to the time when I entered the university. One side journey used to take me two hours.
Oh, I forgot I was talking about that day when the monsoon was in its full vigor. It was raining for the last two days. The rain was pouring down as if it would never stop. Everywhere there was water. Almost everybody was fed up of this. But I am one of those who actually love rain. And I make it appoint never to frown on this beautiful natural phenomenon.
So, that day also I was enjoying the weather to its utmost. But as the winds were making the umbrella a useless possession, I had to hurry a bit. Thus I boarded the first bus that came to my sight. It had just one empty seat.
After spending a few moments in taking care of my belongings, which consisted of an umbrella, my handbag and an extra polybag, I started noticing all those who were on that bus. My companions for the next two hours.
Two friends on the back seat, who were continuously chatting,” such useless talk “ I thought (completely forgetting what kinds of things I talk about when I am with my girl friends). An auntiji, who was sitting next to these girls, seemed to be taking a lot of interest in them. A uniformed man was sitting on the first seat, soaked to the skin. The old man sitting next to me, was fast asleep, totally oblivious to the surroundings. Opposite to my seat was a boy who had his face in his hands.
I was on the window side and enjoying the “view” outside, though the view consisted of nothing exciting except the hustling traffic. But today there was stagnant water at a lot of places and the people on the road also seemed interesting with their Sherlock Holmes overcoats (or perhaps just raincoats).
Was I imagining or that cute guy was actually staring me. Just to make sure I gave him more than a glance.
He seemed to notice this and was a bit embarrassed; he started looking out of the window. Even I started looking out of the window with the intention of not giving any wrong signals.
But there was something that made him look at him again and again. And in this way we kept exchanging glances. During those two hours I think I came to know him fully. Just by looking at him, hard to believe! But that’s exactly what I felt. His name must have been rahul (or may be raj or anything). Name is hardly important.
The time flew away swiftly. And now my destination was about to come. He was engrossed in this hide and seek of eyes. His eyes were shining with something very innocent. Then I started concentrating and memorizing his features, his face which I may never see again. And those eyes which I loved dearly.
After five more minutes I collected my belongings and hastily got down the bus. I was able to steal a quick glance and his eyes; they were the symbol of astonishment. He was stunned. But then did he plan that we would spend our lives sitting in this bus. Though I would have loved that.
Twenty years have passed since then and I have not seen him ever again. I have got my life and my family to take care of. But still sometimes, I remember those eyes, which led me to a love story of two hours.
That was a terrific day, terrific in all sense. And the year, yes the year was also terrific or may be terrifying. A year I would always remember. This goes back to the time when I entered the university. One side journey used to take me two hours.
Oh, I forgot I was talking about that day when the monsoon was in its full vigor. It was raining for the last two days. The rain was pouring down as if it would never stop. Everywhere there was water. Almost everybody was fed up of this. But I am one of those who actually love rain. And I make it appoint never to frown on this beautiful natural phenomenon.
So, that day also I was enjoying the weather to its utmost. But as the winds were making the umbrella a useless possession, I had to hurry a bit. Thus I boarded the first bus that came to my sight. It had just one empty seat.
After spending a few moments in taking care of my belongings, which consisted of an umbrella, my handbag and an extra polybag, I started noticing all those who were on that bus. My companions for the next two hours.
Two friends on the back seat, who were continuously chatting,” such useless talk “ I thought (completely forgetting what kinds of things I talk about when I am with my girl friends). An auntiji, who was sitting next to these girls, seemed to be taking a lot of interest in them. A uniformed man was sitting on the first seat, soaked to the skin. The old man sitting next to me, was fast asleep, totally oblivious to the surroundings. Opposite to my seat was a boy who had his face in his hands.
I was on the window side and enjoying the “view” outside, though the view consisted of nothing exciting except the hustling traffic. But today there was stagnant water at a lot of places and the people on the road also seemed interesting with their Sherlock Holmes overcoats (or perhaps just raincoats).
Was I imagining or that cute guy was actually staring me. Just to make sure I gave him more than a glance.
He seemed to notice this and was a bit embarrassed; he started looking out of the window. Even I started looking out of the window with the intention of not giving any wrong signals.
But there was something that made him look at him again and again. And in this way we kept exchanging glances. During those two hours I think I came to know him fully. Just by looking at him, hard to believe! But that’s exactly what I felt. His name must have been rahul (or may be raj or anything). Name is hardly important.
The time flew away swiftly. And now my destination was about to come. He was engrossed in this hide and seek of eyes. His eyes were shining with something very innocent. Then I started concentrating and memorizing his features, his face which I may never see again. And those eyes which I loved dearly.
After five more minutes I collected my belongings and hastily got down the bus. I was able to steal a quick glance and his eyes; they were the symbol of astonishment. He was stunned. But then did he plan that we would spend our lives sitting in this bus. Though I would have loved that.
Twenty years have passed since then and I have not seen him ever again. I have got my life and my family to take care of. But still sometimes, I remember those eyes, which led me to a love story of two hours.
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