What hurts the most....

Ttriiiing triiing
B: Hello
G: Hiiiiii!
B: Hmm...
G: Are you busy?
B: Yeah.. later
G: Okay, bye!
line cut

After 9 hrs....
Ttriiiing triiing
B: Hello
G: Hiiiiii!
B: Hmm...
G: Are you busy?
B: Yeah.. am playing TT... later
G: When will you be free? Why are you so busy?
B: Please dont irritate
G: Okay Bye
B: Bye
line cut
......
......
......
......
......

Part-y

The little things you do for me
and nobody else makes me feel good...
The little things you do for me...
making me smile and no one else could...
Thats why I like to sit next to you
and listen to your mad stories...
I know they are not true
and I like that we share a secret or two together...

You are being very badly missed dear...
You've gone so far, your voice i can hardly hear...
The day you went away, we cried aloud, you and I...
Its been so long but I still wonder, why did we part.. Y?

Dedicated to the charm of our love, the charm that once was....

Unintended Comedy of...

And I find solace in writing out my mind. Bizarre and cranky are my thoughts and hence I do not even know what I am thinking or if I am thinking at all. Seems like you need to feel strongly (at least feel, if not strongly) about something to have views, to have something to put in words, to have thoughts... And I am thoughtless and I find solace in being (writing) out of my mind.

Off late I've been keeping mum, being a disgrace to my own self for being thoughts-constipated (btw that's not the only place where constipation has made its home). Now one would be tempted to ask why being silent is a matter of disgrace. Because:
It's a constant reminder of the fact that I am thoughtless and hence quiet. So quiet that I've forgotten what being me is like. I've forgotten what I have been passionate about all my life. I've forgotten how it used to feel to laugh and to cry. Not that I don't laugh or cry, just that the feel accompanying them, though not fake, is not too much with feelings either. I am being a disgrace to my own self and am keeping mum about it.

People say that I am sweet. They say maybe because I keep mum. Or maybe cuz I really am. I am so sweet that I go unnoticed in crowd. I am so sweet that I don't say anything bad about any(thing/one) because I am thoughtless (but i do say bad). I am so sweet that houseflies s(h)it on me. No wonder because of the last reason, people say that I am sweet.

Over a cup of coffee [2]

M1: Oh boy! Life seems to be losing its meaning. Don't ask me what I mean by "meaning". Just that on retrospection, there'd been things that'd always kept me entertained. Nothing seems entertaining anymore. Everything that sounded exciting and fun seem so stupid now. Perhaps I indulged myself in everything too much and now got bored of it. Now all I do is think about past and try to reconstruct happiness off my memoirs, but it so happens that I succeed in digging out the horrors and sadness. Btw, how do you deal with haunting thoughts and past pestering ghosts?
M2: They don't bother me at all.
M1: Well, whatever. There is always something or the other that bothers everyone. What about you?
M2: People.
M1: Oh people? Oh, perhaps they are nonsensical sometimes. Funny ain't it? If you don't get sense out of something that is sensible for the other, you feel it to be illogical and senseless. Nevertheless, they seem nonsensical! Anyways, how do you then deal with them? You always seem so calm. Care to let out the secret mantra?
[M2 smiles at him, quietly picks up his 4th cup of strong coffee, smiles at the cup and takes the last sip]
M2: You don't seem to have finished your 1st cup of coffee yet.

Over a cup of coffee

M1: I feel so jealous of him, he's just too brilliant.
M2: Brilliant people think a lot, and thinking leads to sadness.
M1: So you're telling me that you are satisfied with not-that-a-brilliant brain of yours?
M2: Pretty much, it keeps me sane and happy.
M1: High dopamine levels maybe!
M2: You don't seem to have finished your 1st cup of coffee yet.

True Fiction

Its not that its not meant
Its only that its not felt
You may say, its a contradiction
Believe me, you need correction

A fairy tale long long back
I was abundantly happy and equally sad
I never met the guy called "lack"
For, a fairy tale, was what I had

A fairy tale long long back... (?)

I did sometimes see him stealing glances at me,
But then, I’d always eyed him like a bruce lee
To tell you, I can never care less about karate
I wish to have settled for roti, instead of fancying for paranthe

Maybe it was all in my mind
To experience something that I had not
So I thought to be of his kind
and hit the rod, when its hot

Maybe it was all in my mind... (?)

I was nineteen, no wonder full of energy
I'd been happy and been sad, it made me bored to the core
It was then, when I smiled at "lack"
And invited him over, to my mind

Ever since then, he's been with me
Never for a moment, has he left me
To tell you, I have not cried since you know when
And needless to tell, havent laughed since then

Ever since then, he's been with me... (?)

I remember how it feels to laugh and to cry
even though, i wonder if i would ever be that alive
Yes, I have the memories, that will always stay my
even though, i wonder if i would ever be that naive

Its a contradiction, you may now say not
When you’d hear me yell this out aloud:
"Its not that its not meant
Its only that its not felt"

Ambivalence

Love Story

Puppy Love



Shackled




Attachment




Freeeeeee

Merging

In a mystic realm concealed by a translucent imagination, lived a little girl who knew how to fly. This young girl, in her world of magic and mystery, was synonymous to a chameleon... very naturally blending in with what she had chosen to live with.
As soon as she stepped here, her world of possibilities, dissolved all of the chains (of varied colors and sizes) that pierced into her soul, tarnishing any amount of sheen left in "hope". "Hope", that she had, in "possibility" being a reality. Here, she was like a bee, fluttering from flower to flower, extracting and then tasting nectar. Some flowers had some and some were accompanied by thorns... either way, she learnt something. Learnt what was fruitful and the otherwise.
She really could fly here, fly high... beyond the limit of sky, freely... without any fear of falling.
Or FAILING.
FAILURE was after all decided by protocols set by plethora of people with no "i" in them. Her realm was governed by no rules, except for one - her will.

She wished for a merger...

Merger of the worlds, one in which she was forced to keep her eyes open, and the other, in which she willingly closed her eyes.

Fire flies

There was a firefly , clinging onto a bush painted black by the rising moon. The scintillations made the little kid wonder of the beauty held in the cursory flashes. They looked so beautiful, as if the star studded night sky climbed down to the jungle. The jungle was inhabited by wild and dangerous animals, they said. But then, the fireflies were also a part of the same jungle, giving her light... wrapped with faint consolation that she'll find a way out of the junge! She felt safer now. The flashes infused hope in her. The hope gave her a reason to be unlost. She often wondered why these creatures were called 'fire'flies. They gave 'light' alright, but were of no equivalence to 'fire'. They burnt bright alright, but...


She felt 'lost' in the jungle and desperately tried to wade her way through the thick bushes and avoid encountering the dangerous wild animals.

Slowly the night had started to dissolve into subtle brightness. The morning welcomed the break of dawn with a brightness that colored the sky blue... but the brightness within the fireflies began evanescing and slowly faded into oblivion...

The fireflies were visible no more.

The fire had slowly got extinguished. It anyways had always been cold.

If only

The weather was so pleasant. He always liked to walk down that path, with his footsteps dancing on the music of chirruping birds. Little playful birds. These long walks gave him a reason to enjoy the company of his thoughts, to retrospect, to laugh... most of the times at himself, to smirk for the reasons he wished he knew not... but he did.

...to cry...
But he never had a reason. He was so happy.

He told her,
"I like you so much, I love you"

He knew she didn't.

The pleasant weather, the sweet music, the little playful birds, those soft hands that he once held... seemed so distant.

He looked down. His shadow seemed longer than him in the eternal sand around. Long enough to touch his footwear that he left behind so long back.

The desert sand was burning his bare feet.
"If only I never had a reason"

The sun now shone harder... he let his feet sink deeper into the inferno...
"If only I knew how to cry"

Blue shade

The room looked all blue. Perhaps it was because he kept the blue translucent curtains pulled down always, subtly letting the blue filtered sun rays stream into the room.

He was glad that he'd chosen plain blue shade for the curtains. As when it was pulled down, the ambiance his room wore, gave him a sense of belonging. His room became pure... darker, gloomier, quiet yet full of latent turmoil... yes, so dark that it was hard to see.

He thought of risking a peep out through the curtains... Oh! It was way too bright... it felt his eyes get hurt. He pulled himself back into the room. It was comforting. He felt blue again.

Blue was good.

Lift

Thursday, March 13, 2008

LIFT

She was so small. It was afterall her first time. Was she scared? Was she apprehensive about the choice, no, the desicion made for her? Was she excited?

She strained her neck to look at the top of the building. It was a huge one. She clutched her mom's hand, more for the warmth the touch had. The warmth that gave her a feeling of being taken care of. The warmth that made her feel safe. The doors slid open. Her mom smiled and both of then entered the lift.

The lift.
It was all so bright and gloomy inside. Too many people, just so many. They were talking... in loud tones, in hushed tones... Some were laughing, whereas some were crying. It felt like she was a silent witness to a huge grinding mill, with the sound buzzing in her ears... It was all so blurry and dizzy... The confusion was stiffling her. She wanted to cry... wanted to crawl back.. back to the warmth... the feeling of safety... the feeling of sleeping in a womb.

First floor.
It seemed too far away. Mommy had told her that it is their first destination. She didnt know what that meant. She was curious... very curious. She was waiting to get there, but the lift was yet to start... to move upwards... to gain momentum. She saw the doors getting shut. There was no turning back now... She can't go below the ground floor. This building just didnt have that facility.

Jerk.
She felt as if she was getting squeezed... too much pressure...! She rubbed her eyes, as she wiped off a hot tear that made way through her fragile cheeks. Just when she thought that she was going to break, she felt a jerk... and it was alright again. It was afterall just an initial inertial jerk. She started searching for her mom... and in the process, bumped into another kid. She was so much fun. They started playing. She looked up to see her mommy laughing and chatting with her "friend's" mommy. She was happy... her mom smiled at her, a smile that came`from a distance.

Flying.
It felt as if she was flying. The feeling lasted for not more than 4 seconds... it felt familiar... like her first experience in the lift, but strangly exactly opposite... She was already in the first floor. How time flies! She looked around. It was the first time that she had noticed the change. Perhaps she had become too comfortable to comprehend and take notice of her surroundings. She was told that she looked pretty. Some said, "wow, hasnt the baby grown wiser and matur-er?". The other kid (who didnt talk and look like a kid any more) bid her adieu. She wanted her to stay. Wanted to pull her back into her lift, but her outline slowly faded into oblivion as the doors started to close. But she somehow felt that her image, her memories wont see the same end. Was she happy? Was she scared? Was she apprehensive about the choice, no, the desicion made for her?
Somebody pushed the button for the second floor. Was she excited?

She was suddenly so small again. Yet to be woken up from her reverie/ her dream.
Life - The dream of/for an unborn... wish it was easy to understand.

LOVELY MESSAGE

/* It really is lovely */
/* But I dont know how many of us really act proactively */

A boy was born to a couple after eleven years of
marriage. They were a loving couple and the boy was
the gem of their eyes.

When the boy was around two years old, one morning the
husband saw a medicine bottle open. He was late for
office so he asked his wife to cap the bottle and keep
it in the cupboard. His wife, preoccupied in the
kitchen totally forgot the matter.

The boy saw the bottle and playfully went to the
bottle fascinated by its color and drank it all. It
happened to be a poisonous medicine meant for adults
in small dosages. When the child collapsed the mother
hurried him to the hospital, where he died. The mother
was stunned. She was terrified how to face her husband.

When the distraught father came to the hospital and
saw the dead child, he looked at his wife and uttered just five words.





QUESTIONS
:
:
:
:
:
:
:


1. What were the five words?
2. What is the implication of this story?


Scroll down to read....


|
|
|
|
|
|
|

|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
V
ANSWER:

The husband just said "I am with you Darling"

The husband's totally unexpected reaction is a proactive behaviour.


The child is dead. He can never be brought back to life.
There is no point in finding fault with the mother.

Besides, if only he had taken time to keep the bottle away, this would not have happened.
No one is to be blamed. She had also lost her only child.
What she needed at that moment was consolation and sympathy from the husband.

And that is what he gave her.



If everyone can look at life with this kind of
perspective, there would be much fewer problems in the world ....

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.


MORAL OF THE STORY

Sometimes we
spend time in asking who is responsible or whom to
blame, whether in a relationship, in a job or with the
people we know! Take off all your envy, jealousy, anger, selfishness, and fears!

And you will find things are actually not as difficult as you think!


/* Got this mail today from my dad, it really is lovely... thanks for cheering me up
! */
/* Anger is not good, even worse to speak this out and not act accordingly */
/* "Take off all your envy, jealousy, anger, selfishness, and fears!", is that possible? */

Flash

3rd Feb 2008

2 am in the morning. Wow! It was fun to stretch down at the lawns, staring above at the orange sky. Yeah, even this early in the morning, the sky wears a subtle shade of orange, in the background of blue...with black merging in so beautifully with the orange sky. Or hey, is it the other way round? Its almost as if, the sun never set down, its still hanging in there somewhere. Is that true?

"True"! Of late, everything, that a person thinks of as "true", seems to be localised around the perception of the "truth" that he develops over years (I dont know about the factors, there might be just so many, or so few). Oh yeah, the word "local" is important here. The things that the mind wants to believe actually turn out to be the true. But isnt that what really happens? We believe only when we see truth in what we see, and what we see sometimes maybe a hallucination, just a day dream, which sometimes gives us momentary flash of joy... and then like a spirit flame, it dies off miliseconds after its birth when the reality collides with it head-on. I don't know why these "joys" dont last forever. As`far as I am concerned, the joys that I've experienced so far, form a very little fraction of my whole lifetime (presuming it to be around 60 years... presumption which comes with the guarantee word - "probability" :P). These are like the headache pains that turn on and off without warning... but just, they're not as welcome as these momentary flashes. And at this hour of night, my head aches while my lips curve into a smile.
Played badminton today. It was fun even though we lost. I am not very sure whether we lost or not (I forgot), just that I didnt play well, but still liked the game a lot. When the show ends, the curtains are pulled down. Today's show was great, now my eye lids are curtaining down.
And here comes the darkness of the night, which already has put lots of conscious minds to sleep and now invades my territory as well.
Good night BITS. Good night Pilani. Good night IIA. Sleep well, so that you wake up to another bright day. See you tomorrow most probably. Sweet dreams.
Hoping for a better tomorrow (Why? I wish I knew)

Signing off
Shruti

Ghost in the Shell

I wanna watch, I wanna watch.
Please get downloaded fast. Veoh rocksssss!
Anime rocks!
Japanese people are simply superbbbbbbb. Kudos to their innovative ideas, to their thoughts.
I wanna watch, I wanna watch!

Check:
Downloaded - 69/577.2 MB - 12.3%!
Download speed: 80 kbps (not bad at all!)

INNOCENCE - The essence of humanity(?!)

Latched

She unlatched the door, went in and latched it from the inside.

The water was warm enough, warm enough for her to take bath in the cold winter evening. The day was too busy, her shoulders were aching, eyes were sore and hands were tired beyond limits.

She went inside the bathtub, there was no cork, there never was. She closed the tap, the bucket was full, the water was warm... no, it was hot. She untied her hair, and fixed her grip on the closed tap. She took head bath.

She was free now. Atleast for a few days. She had taken leave to attend her college friend, Mita's marriage. It was a long time since she'd met her, just a few mails... roughly twice in 4 months is all they exchanged in last 3 years. They'd been "best" of friends then, they'd been roommates, shared everything... joys, sorrows, jokes. They'd shared their world... Mita's world. She remembered how Mita had been back then, so lively, smart and pretty. She had a way with words, could keep anyone engaged in a conversation for hours long, she could go on and on talking about anything. She was a very enthusiastic girl and used to laugh so very often, no wonder she had a huge fan following. When teased about it, she used to just say "Me and him? Its like a princess and a hippo!". For Mita, crushes were like flavours, you need to try as many as possible without getting addicted to any, and if you find yourself not getting bored of a particular taste, then, that's the flavour for you! She didnt like Mita's attitude, told her how many hearts she'd break with this funda of hers, but Mita always used to say "You take life too seriously, take off your glasses and clear your view, untie your hair and let it fly, break the barrier girl, what's with you and your cold nature? I sometimes wonder, if you fake that you dont have any feelings, or are you actually this cold to people!". She'd just laugh and say "Haha Mita, hasnt god given my share of warmth to you? As you say, Lite lo! We've got an assignment to submit, remember? Will get back to it now!". Mita would jump in her own bed and say "I'll copy your assignment tomorrow, am off to sleep, I guess you can only fall in love with your assignments, atleast take off your goddam grandma glasses, you look really horrible in them, get designer ones".

Designer ones... now she'd gotten rid of her grandma glasses, wore contact lenses now. Yes, she'd changed in these three years, as in, her looks, the way she interacted with people, her boosted professional attitude, but from the inside, she was still the same... as Mita put it... cold... not to herself... but cold... to people. Mita never discovered that. Nobody did. She just wasnt verbose enough when it came to her self.

Mita's wedding, she wasnt very excited about it. Just that she got a break, it felt nice. There was no hurry. She decided to enjoy her bath. No hurry at all. She refilled her bucked with water. She sat cross-legged in her bathtub and dipped her hands and elbows in the water. Water was warm-hot. It was burning her skin a little. Did she really mind? She actually felt nice, it was cold outside. Naah, not that cold, it was just the onset of winter. Not that cold. But she felt nice, her hands gradually became warmer. She kept staring at her hands, how funny they looked, once inside the water, waving, getting distorted by the water ripples, getting wrinkled... she felt her hands... her palms getting numb, they no longer felt warm. Equillibrium. Damn! She hated it. She hated it cuz she didnt understand it. She didnt understand why at all should there be uniformity. Should she be like Mita? Why? What is nature's problem if her hands stayed colder than the water here? Why cant it let it be? Was she angry? Angry at nature? No, she wasnt, infact, this wasnt even bothering her. Why did she always escape? Why didnt Mita try to dig her as hard as she did with Mita? Why was she so cold to people? Why, couldnt she open up to Mita? Mita was a good friend, who never laughed at anyone, she was not a sadist like others in her wing. Mita had tried to pull her out of herself, but had failed. That was because, she herself always had put the thought away, she always convinced herself that the person she wanted didnt exist.

But he did. She felt her back getting cold. She pulled her elbows out of the water, crossed them over each other and placed her head over her right arm. Her face was cold. She touched her neck, it was colder. Or was it that her palms were warm? As if she cared. She placed her arms back in the water and dipped her head in the water. It was all translucent, she could barely see her palms. A few strands of hair fell in the water. She was getting breathless, so lifted her head and took a deep breath. A few locks of hair still remained in the water, she looked at them. How funny they looked. Once inside the water, they wouldnt stay together, but the same water glued them together outside. She saw how her hair "flew" in the water. She gently touched a few "flying" strands, they simply "flew" more. It was funny but amusing. She felt free. Is this what Mita meant? No. Mita didnt talk of this freedom, Mita didnt even know if this kind of a freedom existed. Or, did she? She didnt care now. She felt synonymous with the way her hair behaved in presence of water. She would free herself to herself once inside, she would fly when nobody's around, but outside, she'd stick back to one piece and be the predictable and productive one. She didnt want to think about him. Why should she? After 3 years, when she didnt even know where he was, what he was doing... she did want to think about him. He had touched her where nobody ever did and she wondered if anybody ever could. It had taken her quite a while to talk to him, to laugh with him, to actually like him, perhaps a whole year. Did that matter anyways? He had beautiful thoughts, beautiful stories to tell, nobody could ever touch and stimulate her mind like he did. Yes, she talked with him almost as much as she did with Mita, but there always was a barrier. She was always very controlled with him as well. Sometimes she felt the strange tension developing between them, but then, she would just turn oblivious to it. Did he too? Did he like her? Maybe he did like her, and she did too, but like a true friend. Who was she kidding? The wait. Perhaps it was too long. He was a beautiful person, not with striking looks, as Mita used to comment when all three used to gen put lacha "I would've made you my boyfriend, if you looked better". He used to say "My good luck that I am not!". She always had a strange satisfaction that he never fell for Mita, she secretely thought of him as her possession. She realised that he had not only touched her mind, but her heart as well. She wished she'd touched him too.

She took the mug and poured the water over her head. Did that over and over again till all the water got finished. She sat there for a while. Her body dried. It was not hot anymore. She never was. She started shivering a bit. It was cold. She was getting cold.

She was cold. She wrapped the towel around herself and latched the door again...
...wondering if anyone will ever be able to open it.

Duck

She used to go to the pond daily. Water was something that always awed her. The fragile ripples looked very beautiful, when that duck paddled its way through the water. It had been almost two months since she'd been going to the pond every afternoon and staying there till dusk. It used to take her nearly half an hour to cut through the woods and reach there. She enjoyed the solitude accompanying her walk. She felt at peace by the pond, after a hectic day at home, chopping vegetables, drying the clothes washed by mom, and all little chores that her little hands could handle. She loved her summer vacation, when she could come to her grandma's home, talk to her, listen to the stories of her childhood, count the number of wrinkles on her hand when she held her hand and gently patted it. She just loved the little village that was close to the woods. She loved the little rabbits prancing around and the playful monkeys jumping on the trees.

She loved animals, and no wonder she developed affection for the duck she daily used to observe. She liked to imagine it being a pretty swan floating on the water gracefully. Perhaps because she liked swans better or maybe because the story of "the ugly duckling" kept repeating in her head whenever she sat by the pond. She had this feeling that maybe this was not a duck after all, maybe with time this duckling will grow to be a gorgeous swan that she so loved to look at.

Today she came to the pond a little earlier than usual. She brought her dairy as well. She loved to write. She sat down on the trunk of the huge fallen tree that just touched the waters. She let her feet dip in the pond and slowly get spongy. She thought it was funny sight, the way the veins start showing when the feet were kept in water for a long time and appear like some water animal. She felt that maybe if she stayed in water for long, she might also become a water animal, like she had studied about whales being mammals who adapted themselves to the environment and survived. She felt that she wouldn't mind being a fish. And since this was a small pond, there would be no sharks to eat her. She thought that if she became a fish, she'd want to have the memories of her being a human being, so that she could make new fish friends and tell them her stories. But then, she thought that if she became a fish, she wont be able to meet her mom, for her mom wasn't as much a water lover as her. And anyways, there were fishermen in the village, what if she would be caught one day while telling the story of her grandmother being chased by a wild dog, when she was 8? She thought that she should meet the fishermen and tell them that they ruin fish families and ask them how they would feel if the same thing happened to them? She wrote that down in her diary. She felt a bit sad and walked to the drier part. Removed her bag off her shoulders and kept the diary back in. She felt like stretching out a bit. Lest should she fall asleep, she put an alarm in her watch, of 5:15pm. She put her head on her bag and gazed at the sky. She imagined her swan flying with its white wings spanning the wide sky. And when she'd grow up, she would come and visit this pond and would find her swan being followed by little ducklings. And when she'd further age, she'll bring her kids and show them these little ducklings transform into beautiful swans...

"Wake up!" She opened her eyes and it all felt blurry. Oh, it was 4:45. She smiled at the man who came a sat beside her. He sometimes used to come with a packet of bread to feed it to the fishes of the pond and share some with her. He was a writer and she loved to listen to his stories.
"I saw a swan today", she told him.
"Really? But its not the season chimp, birds from the north come during winters, its your summer vacation remember? Where did you see it?"
"Yeah! But you told me the ugly duckling story nah, look at the duck there, it'll become a swan, I know it will"
"Sure kid, so it means that you'll also become a rabbit cuz you resemble one!"
"Oh no, I am serious, if that ugly duckling can become a swan, why cant my duck become one too?"
"Its a beautiful thing to imagine, really amazing that you can think of such wonderful things rabbit, but imagine, how would you feel if you very badly wanted to have a chocolate that you thought was kept in the fridge but when you went there, it wasn't there?"
"Oh, I would kick my brother for having eaten it"
"What if he says that he didn't and tells you that you imagine way too much?"
"I'll probably cry and tell mom that he stole my chocolate"
"What if your mom says that she'll buy a chocolate tomorrow for you for she didn't bring any for a whole week?"
"But why would I talk of my chocolate if it wasn't there?"
"You saw a swan today right?"
"hmm..."
"The ugly duckling didn't look like a duck. That's the reason he was sad. Because he was the odd one out, this "oddness" pointed out by the others made him feel awkward about himself and he ran away. Here, what do you think about the beautiful duck swimming there? Do you want it to run away"
Trrrrriiiiiiiiiiiinnnn
"No, I don't want it to run away. Hey, its 5:15, my alarm rang. Let get going."
"Sure, but remember, If a bird looks like a duck, swims like a duck and quacks like a duck, then it's probably a duck."

PS : "If a bird looks like a duck, swims like a duck and quacks like a duck, then it's probably a duck" - Borrowed this old saying from people who've been using this as their sm!

Death

Things just didn't seem to make sense anymore. Wherever he turned his head, he saw so many people but rarely anyone with a different face. Everyone seemed to be wearing the mask designed by a popular company called "Humanity - we are one". And the masks manufactured were of same design and color. Whenever he felt like removing his, he was told that its not to be removed, for if he did, he wont be able to survive in this world. He wanted to scream "What's the point of survival, if every single moment I want see the world through my own eyes, and not through this mask? Is that what my life is meant for? Mere survival?". But he never screamed. This mask was always there to rescale the decibel level back to the range specified by the company.

He was tempted many times, to throw off the mask. In fact, he wanted to see what death was like. What was so scary about it. He had seen people die. He knew that once they died, they never lived again. His friend had cried when his grandma had died. He saw many crying faces. He saw the faces then. But at that time nobody said anything when the mask was removed. Not a thing.

The memory came back to him. He brought his hand to this mask and felt it. He almost removed it when he felt a strange kind of fear grip him. This mask had given him fair amount of joys, friends, love, care, and what not. What if "non - survival" was too painful? What if he wanted to wear it again, and it refused stick back? What if he also wanted to live like he lived before but just couldn't? What if he died? Are these things being spoken by him or the mask? He didn't care, for he was scared. He decided not to remove the mask.

He heard the mask whisper to him: "Wise choice".

Sparsh

Mujhe bhi andhaa ban na hai

Sparsh (the touch)
A beautiful story of love, ego, consuming insecurities, misunderstood intentions, relationships... its the story of an institution for the blind and the lives glued to it.
Sparsh, one simple caring touch, can so beautifully change one's life and the whole perception of it, enlightening the world around, simply by adding warmth and care to the relationships.

Kavita (recently widowed) and Anirudh (principal of the special school) both dwell in their own world of darkness, one by closing herself to the world and drowning herself in the misery of her lost one, and another, who though very self-reliant and independent, by being consumed in self pity. Anirudh is very much drawn to Kavita, but his ego and his doubts don't let him see the love (which he mistakes to be pity) she develops for him as time moves on. It takes both of them a while to discover each other (and themselves) finally helping themselves step out of darkness and restarting their lives in a new light.

Little stories (touching upon "friendship") that revolve around this main line also have a major say in the story. In the middle of the movie, the relationship between two kids (friends actually, one of whom is "normal") slowly gets strained because of the advantages (extra care and love) that come with impairment. This is when the "normal" little kid says "main bhi andhaa ban na chahta hoon", when he feels that his is friend getting more attention and is being taken care of more, by Kavita aunty/ma'am (who he adores) and him being neglected. The word "normal" really loses its meaning. Even though this little guy has sight, he is ready to let go of that to be a part of that school, to be treated as one of those kids, to be loved and given attention to, by Kavita aunty. He just doesnt want to be an "outsider". Kavita also faces such situations where she is given an impression (by Anirudh) of being an "outsider" who couldnt understand the problems "they" undergo. Friendship again intrudes. Its this friendship between Kavita and her friend Manju, that ultimately helps Anirudh to forget that she is an "outsider", realise that he is loved for what he is, and to get back to his love.

A beauiful movie, must watch.

IMDb user comments