A Scoop Of My Wonder Land

Dawn to Dusk I Behold outside my Juliet balcony : The Frolicsome kids on the go,

Uncoiled and Liberated, my musings Seesaw one two three in a row....

The Hermit Thrush Pecks and Whiffles through a Fleecy blanket of groupel,

My feathered friend is a marvel above all the spendthrifts I Knew and could Tell.

My spirit Aloft in Exhileration untold....A drawn-out fluty trill is the Secret Surprise in my fold.

Zillions of Crystalized Counterparts to Flutter and collide in an Unknown Quest,

I Wait and Watch : As the Frosty Flurry makes way to the arm of my chair to Rest.

A blizzard of one, Conspiring to Wrap my soul all over,

Distinct and New, on the tip of my pen to Perche and Hover.

Weightless, Phantom, it Enters my room,

Landing in an Unique and Historic loom.

I Thought I will Outwit my consort's directive to Satiate my urge...

Look I Caught a snowflake on my tongue in a Perpetual Splurge! 

As I Never Tasted anything so Sublime,

The sky was truly a Divine relish for the First Time.

As a Vague Shadow of smoke Meets my Chestnut Tress....

Like Befuddling Marijuana it Follows my Cold Senses in agress.

Within a jounce I Lose the Cosmic Kiss that Felt like a Saturated Brush,

Now Turns into a Vision without a Dollop of Slush!

Hurriedly I Snooze my phone alarm,

Thursday morning Awaits the Comeback of my Lucky Charm.

Life On A Colorful Canvas - Part Two

Anarchical Society Over A Cup Of Coffee and Much More

Who claims dreams and nightmares are unreal? Even if her existence be not harmed, she walked through the dark like a limbo and her heart sank in so many horrors. The unknown horrors from the past. Abhirati's roomie took apprehension in discussing the symptoms of sleepwalking with this new sleepwalker in her life - 'Rati, you aren't getting a good sleep babes; all ok? Kooch chahiye to batana'. Whispered Mahi while she crinkled the bunch of her thesis papers. Abhirati had always been  an excellent gateway for her besties. Starting from their family issues, to the financial aspects, the heartaches, the breaks ups...The new found love interests to their (im)possible considerations of those (yet to be tested) marriage materials - Abhirati lent her ears to all of it effortlessly along with those counselling sessions which of course came free of cost. But when it was Abhirati herself, she preferred to choose reticence. And thereafter she suffered -- both in waking, from her nerves, and in sleep, from her dreams.

'My sleep wasn't peaceful. I have this sense of emerging from a world of dark, haunted places recurrently, where I have been traveling alone for years.' Abhirati murmured to her best confidante on phone. Her dad. It was congenital of her to address anything and everything surpassing normalcy, without the fear of being judged if not reprimanded - resting in her one and only fold of parental affection. 'You may have been staying up too late recently. Try to work upon a healthier routine. And not on increasing the number of hours you spend in studying the History of the world. Life of an insomniac donnish can be painful. Look after yourself my dear child'. And Dr. Bhargava's phone hung up.

These last five years have been rather ambitious for Abhirati. And full of events too. Stepping out from Pune, later with a progression of switching between her innate tendencies to remain homebound and picking up an ordinary job to satiate her desperation to turn monetarily independent, on the other hand - exploring the opportunities abroad for her higher education. University of Sydney it was finally! Quintessential to her aspiring learned self, she kept herself well connected to the department that prided itself on its research-led and student-centred teaching. Lecturing and professorship was on Abhirati's mind - And she could in no time submerge herself for hours like a submarine into the history of Europe - from the Middle Ages to its contemporary times. Abhirati, exhibited strength in researching specifically on the history of Imperialism, Colonialism and Globalization. She tossed and turned night after night over the annals of gender and sexuality, the history of medicine and health; the history of the American Revolution, the US Civil War, the Spanish Civil War, Colonial Wars, the World Wars by and large. Her collaborative absorption linked her to the Ancient History of the world, Peace and Conflict studies, and the study of Jewish, Arabic and Asian antiquity, along with American and European back stories.

In her journey of PHD degree, the university experiences rolled from bitter to sweet. Teething problem you may call it, with her head held high, Abhirati faced the challenges as if it was a cake walk for her until she was ignored and harassed by professor  Davis Parker. Someone has rightly stated - every cloud has a silver lining which metaphorically proved to be Abhirati's distressed situation and eventual familiarization with Pumeet Grover. Pumeet was Abhirati's savior - the one to restore her back to grace as well as in helping her regain the position she always enjoyed a step ahead of her batchmates. Pumeet also permanently replaced an old Davis slightly before the latter's retiring date. All owing to a strange Parker idiosyncrasy that has continued over a period of time tracing back to his antecedents who had a similar not-so-fond record amongst the pupils. 

Pumeet had freshly been out from his doctorial research on Anarchist Communism and was all set to take over. He was smart, scholarly, classy and intimidating in his manner. Pumeet possessed every bit of what it took to be a dandy erudite with an arresting communication skill and his female students literally worshipped the ground he walked on. Be it classroom, or beyond the periphery of his engaging lectures, it was hard to resist him.

'I still get nightmares. In fact, I get them so often I should be used to them by now.' Having said so, Abhirati flipped over the pages of Anarchical Society leaning on the last row of the fifteenth shelf that stood towering above her hourglass bearing. Least she knew of the chances that she was unknowingly inviting for this new enchanter in her life to almost lock her within those arms gripping firmly on the edges of the encyclopedia shelf. 'I would love to hear more about you. Your inhibitions. Meet me after the session.' As though a whiff of fresh air blew her away. It was so new to her that someone cared to listen to what she had to say in so many years. It felt like a rebirth within a second - and Pumeet was gone. Where did he go? Why didn't he let the time freeze? Those deep eyes periliously started voyaging through a hall full of people like a wrecking boat that struggles over its puniness across the vast Atlantic.

Thursday afternoon, the fifth group study of the month - there wasn't much that Abhirati could do to escape the clamorous room full of researchers and abduct the head of such a ridiculously important cram session primarily useful for those who had no clue of what they would have to deliver in the upcoming semester. The head had his eyes on Abhirati too, to top it all - on her unsettling gestures following those forthright confessions about her recurring nightmares. But why Pumeet? Why her professor from the world of academia barring everyone else in the rest of the planet? 'Take a seat Ms. Bhargava. We will be discussing few references to Peter Kropotkin on Communism and Anarchy.' Abhirati moved next to Mahi. Mahi's bewilderment was at its best seeing Abhirati restless and scribbling meaningful nothingness in the shape of a heart on the pages of her diary -

'Rati! What you up to? Want some coffee'? Abhirati smiled and pulled her bestie's hair strands streaked in Red and Blue those curled out from the corner of her scarf. 'I don't drink coffee. Kitni baar bolun tujhe? I am craving for a Chocolate muffin dipped in Chocolate syrup. How much time left for the break? I was too lazy to make the waffle today for breakfast.' Mahi quickly pulled Abhirati's diary covering the heart-drawn page with her palms. Chuckling she said - 'The muffin at the cafe has defeated your love for waffle maker looks like! I can't join you at recess today. My cousin wants to see Sydney and it's Friday tomorow. I am off to my aun't place post this Anarchy session'. All that sounded like an assurance that Abhirati could meet Pumeet to let him hear 'more' about her. What was this guy thinking of himself? It was the burgeoning pressure of studies that kept his students busy - there were numerous missing links before she could shift her concentration from the socialist movement, to the evolution towards Free Communism - and she was being asked to meet him at the cafe? Holy crap! Soon she was annoyingly distracted by a husky voice that floated in the air with a touch of i-dee fixe. Yes. Abhirati was swayed by his oratory mastery and flamboyant personality.

'Marxizm does not see communism as a "state of affairs" to be established, but rather as the expression of a real movement, with parametres which are derived completely from real life and not based on any intelligent design. Marxism, therefore, does no blueprinting of a communist society; it only makes an analysis which concludes what will trigger its implementation, and discovers its fundamental characteristics based on the derivation of real life conditions'. Ahh! That was a chain of Abhirati's thoughts swishing out of a heap of fallen leaves in search of life. They gushed at the same pace of our professor's proficiency that swept the maiden off her feet by the end of this stretch.

Days passed and a lot more happened over the cups of freshly brewed Capuuccino.

Pumeet and Abhirati sat for a long time in silence, watching the knots of destiny bloom and vanish, before Pumeet could ask - 'How do you bear it'? Abhirati looked at Pumeet in disbelief. 'I don't Pumeet! Obviously, I don't. I drag myself out of your thoughts each morning and find there is no relief in denying my feelings.' Something in her expressions made him fall for her inch by inch. 'Better not give in to it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself together as it does to fall apart.' Pumeet's intrepid voice rustled in the pin drop silence of a late night walk through the opposite lane of Courtyard Sydney-North Ryde, where he took his lady love (if that's what she became to him, by then) for her birthday dinner. Well, he must have known Abhirati's cisrcumspection. Pumeet continued - 'Take a deep breath, forcing yourself back into one piece that wants to collide in my totality. I want to love you, protect you like nobody else. Abhirati's cold feet held her motionless and still. She blinked at him - Trying hard to disguise those moistened corners of her Almond eyes as the tear droplets pricked them. 'Come with me'. Murmured Pumeet with an unreadable affection on his face; lovingly, he snuggled her within his embrace heading to the attic that Abhirati crossed every morning on her way to the university. The room was filled with Orchids and Red Roses everywhere - at the center was lit a heart shaped candle glowing bright with a mild apple-cinnamon-cedar aroma.

Abhirati's surrounding had never been so magical, so beautiful before - She could hardly believe what was going on. She felt like a princess of some unknown land cherishing the most magnificent moment of her life - The cuckoos, the maple trees, the enchating bower of beautiful wild meadows - All in one sang their lullaby to welcome the most wonderful phase she was supposedly stepping into. Tugging her hands, he pulled her close to him and even before she could know it, he bowed down to one knee in front of her. Abhirati was left spellbound. From his jacket pocket he showed up a ring and looked up to analyze her emotions.

His eyes were intense, burning with a passion untold and unfathomable. Bending over him, Abhirati's face whipped around to meet his. He stoood up - gazing clear and undisturbed at her quivering lips. Taking her face in his palms, he kissed her forehead. His hands held firmly by her waist, he ensured the distance between the two to be almost nil. Smelling her hair he whispered into her ears - ' I am very selfish and possessive. I can not think of anything else other than sharing my life with you Abhirati. Will you be mine?' By the time Pumeet was through with his statement, Abhirati had gulped her fear and insecurities deep within the system that knew nothing of true love earlier. Her heart was almost in her mouth, her lips desperately trying to reach his. Closing her eyes, resting her arms around her new found love's neck she surrendered. Pumeet presented her with the kiss of a lifetime. Her exquisite, honest, warm and begulingly vulnerable state was all that he could ever dream of. By the time the long kiss could come to an end, Abhirati was his, and swooned by his self-centered but charming ways. She loved him to death and couldn't afford to lose out on a single moment of being with him. He made her feel safe, graceful, and desirable. She started to trust her inner Goddess that was stifled for years...On finding Pumeet, she knew that love was stronger than habits or circumstances. Perhaps it is absolutely possible to save up yourself for someone for a long time, and realizing what were you waiting for when he or she arrives at last....'I would enter your sleep if I could, and guard you there, and slay the thing that hounds you, as I would if it had the courage to face me in fair daylight. But I cannot come in unless you dream of me.' Our male protagonist muttered while Abhirati rested her head on his taut chest that safeguarded her being like a shield against the universe and its evil eye. She took it to be a lifetime togetherness. Unbreakable and unstoppable. Surreal, Divinely.   

Life On A Colorful Canvas - Part One

Acknowledgement

In the enormity of life and vastness of time, it has been a delight to share a planet and an epoch with my dearest Abhirati Bhargava. I would like to take the opportunity to present my first attempt in writing a fictional story that revolves around this vivacious character and her three suitors who eventually fall prey to her mesmerizing aura. Her intricate portrait and impenetrable psyche is a representation of every imperfectly beautiful, uncompromisingly ambitious, slightly conceited girl next door born in an upper middle class urbane household. When I picked up the pen for creating her, the skeleton instinctively borrowed its' structural elements from every real life female persona I have been familiar with and tried consciously or unconsciously delving deep within. I hadn't realized in my association with these lovely souls that girls grow quicker than the various chapters in their lives. As a result you are already too old for fairy tales and by the time someone captures your life story in a journal or on celluloid, you are way too old. But some day you start all over again and reading bedtime fairy tales is the first step to your return to innocence. You can then pull it out from your upper shelf, dust off the grey particles corresponding uniformly with those subtly darker shades of your other side. Abhirati's account is every girl's experience accumulated into a personal diary that they would want their children to leaf through in future. I, in all spheres of life owe the maximum bit of it to the most important women in my life. My grandma, my mother, my aunt, my sister and all the new found relations who have lovingly encouraged me to indulge in my Medieval fantasies. I have spent many long drives sitting next to my partner in crime, the love of my life, simultaneously creating epic tales of sword-wielding heroes and their lady loves who stood by their side - artfully crafted in a Chivalric literary milieu allegorically envisioned as my all times favorite Roman De La Rose. My father has been an excellent blessing in disguise with his literary genius to have identified, maneuvered and sharpened those similar traits in me. I hope, this continues to divulge my taste for female centric plots and will hold the capacity to ceaselessly inspire many young readers in relating themselves to the nuances that my characters are pregnant with. I am immensely thankful to my husband, for motivating me and enthusiastically supporting me in trying something new and interesting. There are many more people present and absent in my life whom I wish I could thank, but time, space and modesty compel me to stop here. It is awfully difficult not to mention each and every one who influenced me and contribute to my existent state of being in their own small ways - I still hope to reflect all that has ever mattered to me through the progression of the events. My narrative is not just about WHAT YOU KNOW NOR IS IT EVEN WHO YOU KNOW. It is HOW MARVELOUSLY YOU LET THE WORLD KNOW WHO YOU KNOW.

Abhirati's Valor and Vicissitudes 

Abhirati. A princess in the modern world who believed there is a prince charming for her too. It’s just a matter of time to reach the RIGHT person. She often built castles in the air, day dreamt and fantasized of getting marooned into some desolate realms with him and enjoy a candle light dinner. Someone rightly stated that one needs to kiss several frogs before the real kiss with a prince. Abhirati’s story has been the same.

In her early teens, she could barely remember having a crush on a guy. Many a times she pondered and asked herself – Is it a hormonal hazard?? The reluctance was perhaps to an extent that her semi-tomboyish sensibilities almost failed to decipher the vibes from guys of her age, elder to  her/younger than her. The one sided inclinations ended up in smoke sooner or later. She wasn’t just ready for it. She was studious, obedient towards her parents in all respects and had just ONE motto – that is to come out with flying colors and make them proud. Pretty, glamorous, independent and trendy - who can grab all the attention once she walks the carpet in a room full of people – That’s all she wanted to be. Despite the boon of a co-ed environment, with barely any exposure to the opposite sex yet having had spent a whole lot of time socializing in her father's business parties and gatherings of people from different age groups at an early stage of life, Abhirati was confident yet shy to open up easily during a tete-a-tete. She used to have jitters all over even before she could speak aloud her likes and dislikes regarding anything to anyone. Be it worldly matters or beyond material aspects. Mum was strict and Abhirati wasn’t supposed to touch her vanity kit that comprised of all her favorite cosmetics. All that she visualized was the day she’ll have the sole authority over her stuffs and come across as attractive as mum once she has her hands on those products. She wore those palms and bellies, but she craved for mom’s Black Suede heels and to walk like her in front of the mirror and yell out loud to herself  – ‘You should hit the screen and act’. That was her only passion and the only goal that she aspired to pursue with utmost sincerity. College was a lot different for Abhirati than high school. Adjusting to the hostel life in Pune was exciting yet exacting in view of the deviation from a comparatively slower and simpler living in Kolhapur where she was born and raised within the family of four including herself - her doting parents and an eighty year Schizophrenic grandmother. She decided to put up near the campus instead of commuting from home every day. To some of those long, seemingly endless nights of studying and writing, she devoted most of her times. Abhirati made a handful of new friends. Yet she pledged to continue being herself. Under certain amount of peer pressure, she kind of debunked ‘when in Rome do as Romans do’ theory. She never tried striking a pose or playing the role of someone she could have never been. Somewhere in the deepest corners of her heart – she believed her college friendships would last amongst the most satisfying and long term ones of her life. She was thrilled to discover how wonderfully diverse college associations could be and leave a significant mark in molding her character. She held on to her new found freedom. On a light class day, it was fun staying awake till dawn and penning down her ideals and ambitions on the pages of a personal diary. Being from a small town always makes exploring another town and its’ suburbs adventurous. You tend to compare and draw a parallel line between the two and the connection leaves you juggling somewhere in the middle. Abhirati was mature and well aware of her responsibilities; those were born along with her newly liberated self. Even though her parents weren’t there to follow up on the loose ends, she ensured that she doesn’t let things go flying off the end of the pier. Abhirati reached a point where she wanted to think about her future and be on the lookout for role models. May be she even found a couple of professors inspiring. She tried sticking to the ground-breaking researches going on subjects those interested her. She was sensitive to her own gravity and it took her a minute to engage herself into a particular area of the study of History that attracted her and she burnt the midnight oils to find out all that she could about them. She took it to be her self-definition process and unfolding who she really was turned out more challenging than getting the degrees. 

After a set of typically political and complex roadblocks in one’s academic career, Abhirati got through each step smoothly which turned many in the university and town terribly green! A sought after girl majorly for her physical charm and reserved nature, she spurred an urge in her opposite sex for a dream date every time she walked up her way to the canteen during the recess. But to their dismay - Abhirati just couldn't find them being capable of either the adequate machoism or the wit to do something about it excepting some tireless bird watching at this possessor of a lissome figure, naturally Mohagony crowning glory, and those almond shaped eyes and bee stung lips that did all the talking as the reigning features in her dewy face.  

Life was going mundane while meeting Sahir was pre destined and couldn’t be considered as one of those run-of-the-mill episodes. In vain with her beauty to quite an extent and the academically as well as culturally rich family background that she came from – It was normal of her not to have paid heed to Sahir’s boyish demeanor. Born in Peshwar, one amongst his four other siblings who were raised by their war affected parents, migrated and based now in a small town in Himachal, Sahir was a late joinee at the university of Symbiosis, in Pune. They barely lived hand to mouth but the high hopes of seeing their eldest son getting into the father’s shoes of a noble professor in the coming years kept them going strong. Abhirati met Sahir only during their second semesters once Sahir’s frequent home visits reduced in number and he was told flat on face that the poor attendance could play havoc at the end of the third year of the bachelor’s degree irrespective of the excellent record that he has been maintaining all this while. Sahir was average in height, clean shaved, hazel eyed, stocky in his built and amazing in his physical strength. Multi talented as he was, his piggy bank grew from fat to fatter with his part time participation in martial art competetions since his school days. He also played Soccer at the state level. His guitar chords were his best buddies in all moods and they rhythmically fused into a progressive psychedelic rock under the espionage of a huge Pink Floyd wallpaper in his dormitory. 

Abhirati started loving life beyond books. She befriended and became close to this guy in specific. They formed an awesome duo and in no time he articulated in his not so expressive manners that they crossed the lines of being 'only friends' and there was surely more strings attached to it. Abhirati wasn’t sure of her feelings though she saved her pocket money from a couple of tuitions she gave to her juniors in addition to what she gathered from a selective few local radio jockey shows those she conducted. Abhirati didn’t hesitate to introduce Sahir to her parents when they were in town on a short vacation and they even called him over for a cup of coffee along with few other close pals of Abhirati. They liked him, Abhirati didn’t know though how – what was the definition. Soon enough she realized of something unsaid that transpired between the two. It grew manifolds when he left the town to make his way for home during the holy month of Ramadan. This was a tough phase for Abhirati and her mum who spent hours telephoning each other and Abhirati wasn’t far from being counseled and explained endlessly how disappointing it will be if Abhirati is to take Sahir into consideration for her future husband. In our Indian Hindu constitution we can not, at any point in time secularize our outlook and power of acceptance even when it comes to one of the greatest religions of the world – Islam. No wonder, Sahir wasn’t from Abhirati’s religion. He was a Muslim and that, for the first time began haunting her down asking that taxing question - if there’s anything budding inside her too that has made her lose resolution. For a fact, she hadn’t yet yielded to Sahir’s proposal, nevertheless, couldn’t resist the fact that she loved spending quality time with him. Abhirati faced the inevitable dispute between her heart and mind and that clearly gave her goose bumps imagining the consequences of entering into a wedlock going against the family traditions and values. Abhirati gave mum a prudent reply that she had no clue of anything remotely romantic going beyond friendship as she wanted to focus on building her career first. This, for sure, was a solace at home redoubling the parents’ confidence and trust in her. Meanwhile, there was a dark side of him too, that unleashed followed by Abhirati’s denial to Sahir’s asking out for her hand in a steady relationship for now, and the obvious future implications of an inter religious marriage. To Abhirati’s surprise – It took her to a swirl anticipating the bonds with her parents weakening as she could never imagine hurting them. What about Sahir? How could he expect his parents practicing staunch Islamic dominion to approve of a girl coming from a much liberated Hindu family? Abhirati could never fit into what she needed to be to hold Sahir’s hand in a lifetime companionship. And to do so, what she had to forego would have never let her live in peace – her family lineage. Didn’t Sahir know of the possible trials and tribulations they might have to face in order to take this forward? Was he ready for the worst? Refusal was what he apprehended and wanted desperately to secure Abhirati’s assurance in future promise which wasn’t suiting our female protagonist. This wasn’t going to materialize she knew. Her belief grew stronger turning evident while he tried hard out of his obsession with her to change himself – transform into a subdued and generous guy who was far from being called a ruffian by his friends. Sahir earlier was found picking up brawls every now and then with strangers for reasons unknown -  his hot headedness and unforgiving temperament couldn’t save people from getting brutally hit. It might have simply been for Abhirati getting subjected to eve teasing and a lewd remark coming from a passerby – the rest I guess the readers can well imagine as there wasn’t the term to ‘let go’ in Sahir’s dictionary. When it happened, it went beyond mercy and he couldn’t have looked forward to a blissful and romance wrenched evening with Abhirati at a café outside the campus the same day. She hated him – and gradually distanced herself from his shadow as the semesters were knocking on the doors. Sahir drank like a fish at the end of the day slipping into long slumbers while he didn't give a hoot about staying connected to academics and what it could lead to. He neglected his family's sentiments and blew up their hard earned nest egg in narcotics addiction. He, in his senses for the rest of the times blamed Abhirati that he was almost on way to a recovery and a better life, his reputation started improving within the circle of friends and teachers – she must be stone hearted to abandon him at such a juncture.  He lost his temper every now and then, created scene outside and within the college premises – continuing to impact Abhirati and her surrounding immensely. In a fiercely negative way of course - which she vehemently objected to and felt extremely choked. She wept her heart out in the lonely hours as she could hardly have the courage to disturb her parents’ mental peace. She loved them more than anything else. It wasn’t though possible for too long to escape their eyes while they video called their only daughter and the apple of their eye to check on her well being and progress in studies. Abhirati badly needed to break free from the shackles of Sahir and the city of Pune echoed moments embedded with a mixture of different emotions from the past. Likewise happened. She moved on to select distance learning for her Master's degree living in the comforts of her home and in care of her benevolent parents. 

A lapse of five years. A lot in meantime had blown the two souls apart. Sahir never reappeared in the campus after an internal massacre relating to student’s union shot him to defame and controversy.  Abhirati’s aloofness and detachment made it only worse – Sahir left his studies in the midway. There was news of him joining the Pakistani militant group after his parents and brothers disowned him for more than one reason. Through her dad’s reliable sources, Abhirati took time to come into terms with the knowledge that Sahir was actively involved in conspiring the 2007 assassination of Pakistan’s former prime minister Benazir Bhutto in Rawalpindi. Ever since then, images of Sahir drowned into Abhirati’s memory bank that remained afloat aligning with her only belief that she will definitely meet him one day. This wasn’t out of any least percentage of love or hope that was alive, but sheer curiosity – what made him take his life to a diabolically opposite direction without leaving a single trace of Why and How? Was it that he himself wanted to keep his shadow away from Abhirati or the threshold of circumstances compelled him to do so?