driftwood.

of all the friends one has and lost, the ones that hurt the most are the ones that drift apart. staying friends is good, fighting and getting over them is also exciting (for the moment), but drifting apart is a handicap that weighs you down.

why dont we see things in the same light anymore? why did we stop calling each other? why did we not make the effort to call up and hear the daily crap he or she was dishing out when we had the chance? yes, i have been there and more often than not, have been the drifter while the other, the driftee.

The drifter is a strangely egotistical rascal who enjoys the supreme knowledge that he or she is loved and needed in the driftee's life. She expects to be called on a daily basis, given updates to and to be remembered right at the beginning of sharing great news, be it a job or having a boyfriend. The drifter knows she is indispensable in her own way and 'assumes' that there isnt much work to be done on her part. and it does work mostly. till sometime later in life.

The driftee begins to feel unequal, has a sudden sense of comparison with the drifter's other friends and eventually, goes round and round in his or her head to figure out what happens next. more often than not, they deduce and link it to self worth and slowly curl up in personal hell of silence. The drifter doesnt get the 'drift' of whats happening and soon, the calls are lesser, the visits are zero and the friendship is...ummm what friendship?

While the process is very convoluted and is based on a lot of misinterpretations on both sides, the result is always the same. people drift apart. the friend who once called you up at 2am in the night to share their parents' divorce in a choked voice now simply goes wassup on your gtalk. what is worse, you suddenly realise it years later and wish something bad happened to them so they would speak to you, a little more non-virtually, that is. sheesh.

working this out wasnt so difficult, doing anything about it anymore, is.

what happens.

Hey, saw your facebook status update. Are you guys fighting again?
This time its for real.
Well, the updates seem more serious than all the last times put together. But cmon, you guys are breaking up on facebook all the time.
This one is of the serious kind. We really have ended things.
But what does that even mean with you two? I don’t get it anymore.
Ya, neither do we.
I didn’t mean that. I meant, what is it about your love that’s so complicated?
I guess it never was love. Just a lot of obsession about each other.
Hahaha. Sure seemed like that. But then you kept getting back together. One wonders.
No more. He calls it a mistake, I call it a weeping heart.
Ouch. That hurts. On your part.
Who is to say which hurts more?
Ok, you need to relax. Tomorrow morning, your statuses will be back to mushy crap.
I like your optimism but there is no possible way that’s going to happen.
But what happened?
What always happens. We woke up.

a life without a ...

I am not the one about the long silences, no. I am the mindless yet entertaining chatter. I am the fall back guy when the silent one needs to fill the space. So my absence was barely being busy at other fronts.

As life has been at what it does best, i.e being unpredictable. I have been rendered jobless. OK that sounds horrible. I have quit after 6 months of ego fighting (read: sword) with my evil Bengali boss. Irony, aint it? So what came as an impulsive decision has turned out to be an albatross on my neck. I know a few people who might be doing the 'I told you so' dance right about now, but well, I am only human and follies are my forte.

December was fun with a trip to Turkey and planning my first ever New year party for friends at my very own place! Yes, my own frikkin awesome flat. It is a happpy feeling when you have lived and paid rent for almost, ummm, forever.. So yeah!

January was a month in which I got down to updating my resume, mailing people, putting my ego aside and following up on whether people received my resume (which ofcourse they did!) and calling up the very same people yet again. I would never hire me if I was the 'people' I mentioned above. Also, was introduced to a new festival, Uttarayan. In Gujarat, they fly kites like nobody's business. I got into it pretty fast, much to his amazement. I guess he should've predicted it, what with my love for sports of all kinds.

While the festival and the wait to get a response from the 'people' kept me happily ignorant of a whole month passing without a job, February brought with it a promise of going and staying with Ma and Baba for a while. I hogged on bengali food, on mutton, chicken, fish and dry fish (yes, we dont leave any kind of fish) and watched theater and movies and sat on a big field with a beer bottle in my hand and a cousin who has started to look very similar to the 21 year old me, the beer guzzling and the dont-care attitude towards authority and public parks included.

Cometh March and just like old times, the exam fear has gripped me. Only that it isnt about exams anymore. Onto my third month of unemployment, I sometimes wonder about life beyond. If I even want to work anymore. Ideally, I should just start writing that book I have always wanted to. But, being a middle class, intelligent and independent woman (we are a type, I swear am not gloating) I must work, preferably in the best place in this city. And thus, neither do creative juices for the book flow, nor does the phone ring.

If I was racist about small towns before, you shouldnt start a debate about it with me now. My loathing towards anything that isnt Delhi has increased by leaps and bounds and I have my ways of keeping it normal. I watch sitcoms.

Yes, I watch endless sitcoms and love the fact that every dysfunctional character in every show can make me laugh. By that logic, I can make myself laugh at me too. And that keeps the peace.

I will be heard more often from now on, pinky swear!

windy waffle love-2

She asked for a waffle with chocolate sauce and cream, and he said he wouldn’t like fruits on it. She knew he enjoyed eating bananas so she ordered for some banana slices on the now divine waffle. When she was given the piece of heaven, she fed him a spoon to which he refused saying he hated bananas during the night and she put it without thinking about him. Well. Here she was, sacrificing on kiwis and strawberries and choosing bananas just because he liked them and this is what she got. That was just too bad.

The argument got bitter and accusations were thrown which would look hilarious on a good day. Making jokes on how he ate bananas in fixed hours of the day and hated them on others got out of hand and the date was abruptly over. From fruits, they moved on to the nagging issues of life like place, culture etc and there was no way of redeeming the date thereafter. They both decided to walk instead of taking a cab just to release the pressure. Without acknowledging each other’s presence, they kept walking. Soon, she got tired and took a cab and asked him to get in, to which he behaved like a child and said, ‘You called it. You get in.’ she was pissed and asked the cabbie to go ahead. Once at Kabatas, the tram station, she missed him dearly. For the next twenty minutes, he was nowhere to be seen and the tram station fellow kept coming to her and asking her which tram was she waiting for. It was close to 12 and tears were stinging her eyes. A cab stopped in front of her and an Indian boy came out of it, took one look at her and asked her if she wanted to be dropped somewhere. She refused and turned the other way.

The tram guy closed the system and told her the last ride was over and said a sympathetic bye to her. Suddenly, from afar, she saw him walking towards her, looking tired and completely put out. Rushing to him, she asked if he had walked all the way. He nodded, called a cab and they got in. she cried silently while he looked the other way, asking the cabbie for extra bills. Once inside the hotel, she saw the same Indian guy from that night, who had one look at both their faces, and gave her a sympathetic smile. Forget sympathy, she could do with some vodka right now. Inside the room, the travel and the heart ache gave way to sleep soon enough.

Early morning, she woke up, way calmer than the previous night. He had already left for his meetings, so she went to the washroom, sat on the pot, and started to think. How could they manage a fight in the most beautiful city in the world? How could they not keep their short tempers in check for one little exotic week? How is it love if they cant trust each other and do things that hurt, simply on an impulse? And most importantly, how were they supposed to get past this and enjoy two more days of the vacation? She turned her head towards the wash basin and was caught by surprise. There was a cardboard sheet, torn from the box of khaakras she had got from home. The sheet had a pen drawing of a round face with hair and 3 tears each coming from both his eyes. It said SORRY underneath that. It was hard to believe and too cute to not melt. Clutching it close to her heart, she laughed and then cried at the madness of it all.

He had woken up, felt bad and had taken the pains to tear a piece out of a box to make that hideous drawing and write what he couldn’t manage to say the entire night. There are certain things about love, the most important one being that it isn’t extraordinary. It is simple, right there in front of you. In little things, it can trigger. You don’t have to be a talker, you can be the shy kinds and still have your place under the sun. a vacation doesn’t have to be perfect, it can find perfection in your fights and then, in your Sorrys’. There is no sure shot way to tell what keeps you happy. A banana slice in your waffle can spoil your evening and a little boy cartoon saying sorry can make things alrite again. It is that ordinarily extraordinary. Believe you me.

windy waffle love-1

It was yet another super windy day at Istanbul. But that had not deterred her from exploring and loving. Being more sensitive to cold than most people she knew, she struggled with the cold winds that thrashed the only part they could get, the face. Nonetheless, she braved it the whole day and had a dekko at the famous Topkapi palace, the best archaeology museum in the world and the creepy Basilica cistern, and by this time, it was raining too. Coming to Istanbul on a December week would not be great travel advice, but seeing the city when no one else has a beauty of its own.

Tired from the excursion, she warmed her feet by the heater and watched some more random language music on Viva TV and waited for him to get back. Tonight’s plan was to head to Ortakoy, a north western pretty village which boasts of a lovely pier. He came back and together they took the tram to Kabatas and then a bus to Ortakoy.

The village was scenic to say the least. Walking, not hand in hand but laughing and talking about the simplest things in life, the two lovers enjoyed each second of the windy night. She squealed at the sight of Gloria Jeans’ coffee shop but had a hookah from the local shop instead. He fell in love with the sea side coffee shop and pledged to come back, no matter how full he was after dinner.

A heady meal later, they walked towards the sea side coffee parlour but now they weren’t very sure about that last cup of tea. Maybe they couldn’t have it after all that food they had. His heart won over his head finally and they did sit right next to the splashing waves and had a typically strong Turkish cup of tea in the surreal coffee shop. She was ecstatic because yet another cat of the city had warmed and cosied up to her, much to the frustration of the burqa clad women and their men right behind their table who had tried to win its affection for a while now. There was a Jack Black look alike who preferred to stare at her rather than in his coffee cup. They made jokes in hindi and tons of photos and crazy winds later, she decided to go to the lane that was selling her favourite, waffles.

That was the beginning of the typical end to a happy date between these two.

doesnt fit in. anymore.

the wait

She waited outside the coffee shop for fifteen minutes, already regretting her decision to have come. She was cursing herself for the care she had taken to look nice today. A crisp mauve shirt with jeans. Her hair fell straight and silky. She had lined her eyes with kohl just the way he loved them. Used to love them. Well, she didn’t know anymore.

Clutching her bag, feeling downright stupid, humiliation now took over her being. He had changed his mind after asking her to come. He had always known that he wouldn’t come. He had done this just for a kick. That stung. Of all things, it shouldn’t be the last logic, she prayed to God silently.

After half an hour, a car came towards the parking lot next to her and parked itself. She looked towards it, not really expecting him. She just wanted to look and pretend busy for the ultimate five minutes which she had given herself.

It was him. He hadnt changed except for the fact that he had gained a little weight and looked like life had happened to him. The usual. Work pressure, family, money and the jazz. They take over the best of faces. They had claimed him too.

He didn’t smile, but walked with an expression she didn’t quite understand. It had been years, she realised. She suddenly thought of how she must be looking and immediately straightened up and smiled just a little. Together, they entered the shop without a word.

I was about to leave you know. Thought you werent coming.

Actually, I almost wasn’t. just couldn’t make myself come. Realised things weren’t as settled as I thought they were within.

Oh, you should have just messaged then. I would have understood.

You would? Since when have you started understanding what I feel?

Wow, rubbing it even now? How do you manage to?

You know, today when I was coming to meet you, she asked me where I was headed. I just couldn’t think of anything to say.

So, what did you say?

Meeting a friend. She believed me. I know it isn’t very far from the truth now, but still.

Yes, I don’t think we are friends. But we are connected. Still.

Don’t say that. I don’t want to be.

But I do. I like it. Somewhere within, we are still back there somewhere.

He looked deeply into her eyes and suddenly turned away.

You know what, lets go. I will drop you somewhere. I thought I was ready for this. But I am not. Call me a weak person again if you like.

Hey, please don't say that. And you are right. I will go myself, no worries. You take care.

Hmmm, you too. He got up first and headed to his car.

She kept sitting, blowing into the steam of her black coffee. Maybe he had felt the exact same way she had, like a rush from back then. Maybe he couldn’t bear to sit here with her anymore. Or maybe, he still loved her kohl lined eyes.