life's a kick

I went through that entire metro ride, with a book in my hand, barely able to read a page. I don’t know exactly when they materialized before me. I must not have noticed. My sensory receptors generally aren’t good picking up superfluous signals. That is why I don’t know if they came together, or if one of the two had come before and waited for the other. But what I do know, from the time I set eyes on them, is the magic that flowed between the two of them. Two fair, thin hands, seemed to stem out from behind my book. Her right, his left. Clasped at the centre. Nothing extra-ordinary about that, considering many young things hold hands in public places. It was the chemistry, the silent talking between the two that got me distracted. And how! I couldn’t hear what they were talking, their voices were deliberately muted, but their fingers symbolized the graphic pitch and frequency waves of their conversation. In the beginning, they only allowed their fingertips to meet. Wi...

हिंदी. मेरे बचपन की भूली-बिसरी सहेली. बोकारो तक इसके साथ जम कर खेली, याद है. लेकिन दिल्ली आने के बाद सब कुछ बदल गया. चौथी क्लास के बीचो-बीच बैठकर पहली बार यह अहसास हुआ कि medium of instruction अगर अचानक से बदल जाए, तो दिमाग का सन्नाटा बहरा बना देता है. उस साल पहली बार, और आखिरी बार, अंतिम परीक्षा में मैंने 80% से कम स्कोर किया. दिल चूर-चूर हो गया. वो अलग बात है कि काव्य पाठ और वाद-विवाद में मैं हिंदी की ही होकर रह गयी. आज भी मुझे स्कूल के कुछ दोस्त 'हिंदी वाली सोनल' के नाम से बहतर पहचानते हैं. बड़े बोझिल हृदय से मन को अंग्रेज़ी की ओर झुकाया. कई साल लग गए अपनी प्राथमिक भाषा बदलने में. मानती हूँ कि शुरू शुरू में बड़ी कुढ़न हुई. दिल्ली वालों के चक्कर में अंग्रेज़ी सीखने पर विवश होकर. लेकिन जैसे जैसे मैं इस नयी भाषा को जानती गयी, समझती गयी...लगा जैसे मेरे मन कि बात को मुखरित करने के लिए ख़ास बनाई गयी है ये भाषा. अंग्रेज़ी से प्रेम का सिलसिला स्कूल से शुरू हुआ, और इस तरह रम गयी उसके प्यार में कि आज अभी रूह को तिनके का सहारा चाहिए होता है, तो वो roman alphabet के रूप में ही आता है. ...

Picture a dainty pahadi beauty stepping into a not-so-dainty Bihari household. As a bride. And the question that follows, yet unanswered, is who changed who more. The bride the family or the family the bride? She is sweet tempered. As a result of which conscious effort in made by old residents (most of all her better half) to maintain sobriety even when raw impulses are dying to be heard. She loves eating out. In a majority which, when thrilled, prefers to sprawl on the floor and snooze. Her dishes are generously spiced up, which leaves the writer, who is still accustomed to baby food, to grow up her taste buds. When she mentions shopping and finds not a single soul echoing her excitement, she is reminded, as a solace, of her other sister-in-law who shares similar tastes, but alas, is away. Her eyes widen as she hears शुद्ध हिंदी words bandied around with unfamiliar ease, and how each member has not even a passing acquaintance with shyness. They break into a dance, a song, a poem...

waves of time, unrelenting unleash with fury on the bunds of hope, frayed yet enduring slipping 'n standing, alone 'n shunned up come the clouds threatening destruction at heart and aim vainglorious in terminal attempt to leave nothing to proclaim rain lashes out an angry downpour intent on the show of power under the knifing blows of spear the crying bunds stand that hour in the wrath and fury of nature melts all but the sturdy trail against character, strength 'n love heap up the odds, hope won't fail

Bigger the Prize, Larger the Price I have fainted once. In the summer of 2010. Cause – Neck spasm. Reason – doing 200 breadths in the swimming pool, that is 2.5 kilometers, at a break-neck speed, literally. Come to think of it, it was the doctor’s negligence that made me faint, not so much my own extremism. The swimming only gave me a bad cramp, which I went to get cured from the doc, who insisted on turning my neck and bringing it back to a neutral position (and she was a physiotherapist, lord help her patients!). I had resisted, telling her it was too painful to bear. But she labored on, till I passed out in pain. Till two weeks after that, I could not move my neck. Had to exercise my eyeballs way too much that fortnight! Post that incident; I have done 200, and even more, without committing the mistake of going to a doctor after that. I learnt that muscles will ache when fatigued. So why do I fatigue myself to that extent? Why do I stretch myself to the point tha...