It was just an aimless wander. We were 2 strangers in a strange city. In some ways it was comforting to know that he was going to be gone tomorrow and that i would never see him again. I thought maybe, just maybe, this will take my mind of him.
Varun and I had things in common - music & bollywood is what we had in common. But that's about it. We discussed the subjects at length - sometimes over a cup of coffee and sometimes over a Mac burger. Apparently, AB was his fav actor while i was in the AP (amol pakelar) gang. He was into adnan sami genre of music and I thought jagjit singh ruled - and not just the gazal world ! Somehow we got talking about college and culfests and he sang a little bit of "aaina mujhse meri pehli si surat maange..." to prove me wrong. Something in his voice & something about NY made me trust him.
There was a farmers market on the way. We stopped to get some fresh cherries - yum. Walking on the 6th street for 4.4 miles in high heels - was fun. Really. Varun offered to stop so that i could give my poor legs a break but i knew if i did something like that, i would be mocked till eternity. So no, we just continued to walk. I took out my "must see NY sites or you'll have to come back" list and asked Varun to take me to each one of them. Varun smiled, and it seemed like a genuine smile. We walked for 5 minutes and there was the Rockefeller building. Another 5 and there was Chrysler. Yet another 2 minutes of walk got me to empire state building. Suddenly, NY seemed like a very small place. The city gave me sense that everything's possible - it's where people realize their american dream. From the midtown(times square) to the financial district (battery park), NY was so full of life. Our aimless wandering got us to the world trade center and the NY stock exchange by sheer dumb luck. At last, we got to the very end of NY (at least as far as I was concerned) - battery park. I could see the statue of liberty looking at me. Have you ever looked at the sun at dawn? The flurry of colors can take your breath away. There I was, standing with Varun looking at the sun and the water. Neither one of us spoke for the longest time. After a while, we looked at each other and almost together said "Beer?" The occasion called for a cold one.
We started to walk back and for whatever reason, we had slowed down considerably..were my feet hurting too much, was Varun trying to be supportive or did we just not want the day to end ? We stopped at a square where there were tons of pigeons. We both lay down on that square - my head on his lap. I tried to be very sure that it was my feet that hurt. I saw people staring at us and this was NY ! I almost hummed "do diwane sheher mei.." (didn't i tell u i was a AP fan?). In a little bit, we started our final descent to our hotel.
final part coming shortly.
Monday, March 29, 2010
New York New York - part 2
I took a cab and went to Manhattan. F**k him - i was going to have a good time in new york. I was well prepared - i knew the places to go to, shows to see, people to meet - maybe not the people part. I got down on 42nd street. And stood there in awe. Not sure what it was - people and too many of them, honking of the cars, flashy signs, the smell of coffee - there was a general sense of madness; with a method. Reminded me of amchi mumbai. I longed for my home town and him. Talk of self destruction. Why?? It was stupid coming here..and what i was about to do was even more stupid. Have you wondered why sometimes we take ourselves on the path of self-destruction ? I was about to do the same. I was not the type to take the flight back home & go to my shekhar. I checked into this dingy hotel for 3 days instead. That's how long i had - to hurt myself.
This was all wrong. He was supposed to pick me up, take me to his hotel, treat me like a queen, show me around NY & then I was supposed to break his heart. Instead, with tears in my eyes, I was walking up the stairs to go to my hotel room. That's where I met Varun. He was smoking in the corridor. He nodded at me and embarrassed, i continued up the stairs. I knew NY from Sex and the City and to me; it was a symbol of hope. I changed into something sexy and walked out with my head held high (or as high as I could hold it). I walked into a subway (now, now - this subway is a sandwich place - one of my fav) and ate a sandwich all by myself. I got me a map and started walking towards a subway when i bumped into somebody. Varun saw the map in my hand and a tear in my eye. He said, "I leave for Paris tomorrow and I have a day to see the city. Do you want to see it with me?”
Varun was average looking and seemed smug. Not my kinda guy. Short - maybe 5 10'. long hair. So no, I didn't have butterflies in my stomach when he asked me out. It seemed out of pity & so I said no. He shrugged and walked away. I decided to ditch the subway and see NY the way it's meant to be seen - on foot. I imagined him to be with me. As I was walking the streets of NY, it seemed like a city for singles - it had this quality :) Vibrant people, lots of fashion , gorgeous weather , tons of shops..I got into a shop that sold leather jackets. Not sure why - i just did. There was Varun trying on a black jacket. I must have stood there a while because i suddenly saw varun raise his eyebrows with a curious look on his face. I twitched my nose and asked him to buy a brown one instead. We hunted a while for his perfect jacket, couldn't. I guess jackets are like men, it's hard to find the right fit. In the end, we left the shop and started walking towards battery park. So filmi.
On the way, Varun told me about john denver. I heard the song "leaving on a jet plane" for the first time...
to be continued...
This was all wrong. He was supposed to pick me up, take me to his hotel, treat me like a queen, show me around NY & then I was supposed to break his heart. Instead, with tears in my eyes, I was walking up the stairs to go to my hotel room. That's where I met Varun. He was smoking in the corridor. He nodded at me and embarrassed, i continued up the stairs. I knew NY from Sex and the City and to me; it was a symbol of hope. I changed into something sexy and walked out with my head held high (or as high as I could hold it). I walked into a subway (now, now - this subway is a sandwich place - one of my fav) and ate a sandwich all by myself. I got me a map and started walking towards a subway when i bumped into somebody. Varun saw the map in my hand and a tear in my eye. He said, "I leave for Paris tomorrow and I have a day to see the city. Do you want to see it with me?”
Varun was average looking and seemed smug. Not my kinda guy. Short - maybe 5 10'. long hair. So no, I didn't have butterflies in my stomach when he asked me out. It seemed out of pity & so I said no. He shrugged and walked away. I decided to ditch the subway and see NY the way it's meant to be seen - on foot. I imagined him to be with me. As I was walking the streets of NY, it seemed like a city for singles - it had this quality :) Vibrant people, lots of fashion , gorgeous weather , tons of shops..I got into a shop that sold leather jackets. Not sure why - i just did. There was Varun trying on a black jacket. I must have stood there a while because i suddenly saw varun raise his eyebrows with a curious look on his face. I twitched my nose and asked him to buy a brown one instead. We hunted a while for his perfect jacket, couldn't. I guess jackets are like men, it's hard to find the right fit. In the end, we left the shop and started walking towards battery park. So filmi.
On the way, Varun told me about john denver. I heard the song "leaving on a jet plane" for the first time...
to be continued...
Monday, January 11, 2010
new york new york - part 1
[context of a movie like pyaar to hona hi tha is recommended] :)
It was 2004. I had planned my trip to new york as a revenge. How dare he break my heart? I had decided that when we met again, I would make him fall in love with me & break his heart. So filmi.So what.
He and I never really dated. But have you felt this sense of belonging with somebody without really being in a relationship? It was wierd. I had my shekhar(character from pyaar to hona hi tha), except that all he did was drop me to the airport to catch a flight to new york. And he gave me his cell phone- "call me if he breaks your heart, yet again" is all he said. I laughed. As I got onto the flight there was a strange sense of excitment. Usually, when I planned such trips, I had a checklist of what to do and when. For new york, I seemed to unreasonably well prepared. As the flight took off, I smelled victory and fell asleep, rather happy - not knowing that the days ahead would be the most eventful 3 days of my life.
The red eye landed at laguardia promptly at 6:00 AM. I got down from the flight and seems to be in a rush to other passengers. You know how people are..I waited at the baggage claim - he was nowhere to be found. I thought "Will he show up or not?". I waited. And waited. He never showed up.
{to be continued}
It was 2004. I had planned my trip to new york as a revenge. How dare he break my heart? I had decided that when we met again, I would make him fall in love with me & break his heart. So filmi.So what.
He and I never really dated. But have you felt this sense of belonging with somebody without really being in a relationship? It was wierd. I had my shekhar(character from pyaar to hona hi tha), except that all he did was drop me to the airport to catch a flight to new york. And he gave me his cell phone- "call me if he breaks your heart, yet again" is all he said. I laughed. As I got onto the flight there was a strange sense of excitment. Usually, when I planned such trips, I had a checklist of what to do and when. For new york, I seemed to unreasonably well prepared. As the flight took off, I smelled victory and fell asleep, rather happy - not knowing that the days ahead would be the most eventful 3 days of my life.
The red eye landed at laguardia promptly at 6:00 AM. I got down from the flight and seems to be in a rush to other passengers. You know how people are..I waited at the baggage claim - he was nowhere to be found. I thought "Will he show up or not?". I waited. And waited. He never showed up.
{to be continued}
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Sapno ke ghar ki..Chapter 2
Chapter 2
He taught me to find myself in music. He said that people hear an occasional devotional song in a Hindi film or a 'classically tuned' film song and think that’s classical music and that that is all to it. He wished people were inspired to give try music; in any form. Life is time consuming. There are chores to be done, people to be met and places to be seen. Accordingly to him, Music helped you do all that from the comfort of your living room. He taught me to perceive music. He taught me history and science – history of music & the science of music (pitch/intensity /frequency) and its parallel in the music world called “tone”. He helped understand “octaves” and “swaras”.He thought me that music has tones ordered horizontally as melodies and vertically as harmonies. He taught me that Rāga refers to melodic modes & that it is a series of five or more musical notes upon which a melody is founded. In the Indian musical tradition, ragas are associated with different times of the day, or with seasons & that Indian classical music is always set in a raga. It was fascinating to discover the nuances of Hindustani classical music. Little by little, I felt things around me changing. On my birthday, my friend gave me a CD of “Sound of Music”. Imagine my surprise when I heard Julie Andrews replacing Sa Re Ga Ma Pa Dha Ni Sa, with Do Re Mi Fa So La Ti Do. Lo and behold! Music was everywhere – from the chirping of the birds to my milkman’s coarse voice, from harmonicas to musical glasses, from east to west.
I was humming the other day while doing my home work. Apparently, I also had a smile of my face. My aunt had come into the room sometime ago, I don’t know when. When I looked up and saw her, I noticed her eyes were wet. She gave me a light hug and said, “I know I have nothing much to do with the change in you, but I am so glad. I watched over you, every time you went out towards the bench. In case you were wondering, I did make sure you were in good hands.” I felt betrayed, how can she befriend my friend? No. No. This is wrong. I asked her suspiciously, “Did you tell him about my parents?” I did not want my friend to pity me. She replied, “No. It’s your truth to tell. However,I did tell him how we are related.” For the first time in a very long time, people had treated me like an adult. I guess it’s hard for you to understand. When you lose people so precious in your life, something in your being just changes. It’s like a switch goes flip. I felt responsible. I felt vulnerable. I knew I wouldn’t have a mother to guide me about the ways of the world when I became a teenager. I knew dad would not be around to help me decide on what I should be choosing for a career. But what I also knew was nobody was going to be around to fuss over me, make me my favorite sandwich, listen to my school time stories, and …and.. and.. Even now, every day, when I left home to catch my school bus, I could almost see my mom, wave at me until I disappeared from her sight. That was my most favorite memory of her. My dad was an Economics professor in a government college. For somebody teaching such a boring subject, he was curiously artistic. Mom hung his paintings all over the place. Most of all, I remembered him for the lullabies that he sung to me.
Life continued on like that - school, music , my friend and now a family.
Finally, it was time to leave Ooty and go to a boarding school in the north. It had almost been a year since I first set foot in that quaint town. I did not tell my friend that I was leaving. I was not going to cry, not now. Or for that matter, have someone cry for me. As usual, I went to meet my friend near the bench on my last day in ooty. It had gotten quite late, since I was busy packing. I told him, I was going to leave the next day. He was quiet for a bit and then asked “Have you had dinner?” I replied in affirmative. He then asked if finished packing and I said that I had. In a rather low voice he said he wanted to sing a lullaby for me. Very unexpected. I said a rather feeble “ok”. And so, he started…
“Sapno ke ghar ki chat pe hein tare
toffiyon ki deewaro pe latke goobare
haathi ghode bhalu sher cheeete saare
badalon ne kaise-kaise rup dhare
ghar ke ujiyare so ja re
daddy tere jagein tu so ja re
dhundne se khushiyon ki rahein nahin milti
maangne se man ki muaradein nahin khilti
mile jo na tujhe des mein hamare
de jayenge nindiyan ke andhiyare
sapno ke ghar ki…”
(from the movie, daddy)
I cried. And cried for what seemed like eternity. It was my favorite lullaby that my dad sang for me since I was little. It was my dad's favorite too. He always told me that the lullaby was his way of telling me to dream the impossible. To explore my world. Through this song he meant "Dream and then work hard to achieve your dream, my angel. I will be there for you, always.". I hugged him and poured my heart out. I told him all that happened. I told him about my longings and I told him how much I missed my parents. I also told him how much I was going to miss him.
My friend said he chose this song because this was his favorite lullaby that he sang to his daughter. He had a 2 year old daughter (named raaga) whom he would bring to the park every day. On that fateful day, raaga had demanded candy from the candy cart standing outside the park, near the bench. In the time that my friend let go of her hand to search for change in his pocket, raaga had started walking away from the bench and towards the road. She was run over by a reckless driver. My friend never forgave himself. He came to that bench everyday looking for forgiveness.
I told him “You saved me.” With those 3 little words, we both made our peace with God that day.
end of story
The Song & what it means to me:
This song has a lot of significance in my life. It's a song that always brings tears to my eyes whenever i hear it. It's the voice. It's that feeling when you know somebody will be there for you, come what may. It forces one to stay awake to listen to this lullaby when you are dead tired after a hard day's work and all you initially wanted to do was to just fall asleep.
I practice this song, almost everyday, in hope that someday i will sing this song to my daughter, raaga. :). Ofcourse, I will replace the "daddy" with a "mommy". No, i don't have a daughter, yet. But I, well, i just dream on.
He taught me to find myself in music. He said that people hear an occasional devotional song in a Hindi film or a 'classically tuned' film song and think that’s classical music and that that is all to it. He wished people were inspired to give try music; in any form. Life is time consuming. There are chores to be done, people to be met and places to be seen. Accordingly to him, Music helped you do all that from the comfort of your living room. He taught me to perceive music. He taught me history and science – history of music & the science of music (pitch/intensity /frequency) and its parallel in the music world called “tone”. He helped understand “octaves” and “swaras”.He thought me that music has tones ordered horizontally as melodies and vertically as harmonies. He taught me that Rāga refers to melodic modes & that it is a series of five or more musical notes upon which a melody is founded. In the Indian musical tradition, ragas are associated with different times of the day, or with seasons & that Indian classical music is always set in a raga. It was fascinating to discover the nuances of Hindustani classical music. Little by little, I felt things around me changing. On my birthday, my friend gave me a CD of “Sound of Music”. Imagine my surprise when I heard Julie Andrews replacing Sa Re Ga Ma Pa Dha Ni Sa, with Do Re Mi Fa So La Ti Do. Lo and behold! Music was everywhere – from the chirping of the birds to my milkman’s coarse voice, from harmonicas to musical glasses, from east to west.
I was humming the other day while doing my home work. Apparently, I also had a smile of my face. My aunt had come into the room sometime ago, I don’t know when. When I looked up and saw her, I noticed her eyes were wet. She gave me a light hug and said, “I know I have nothing much to do with the change in you, but I am so glad. I watched over you, every time you went out towards the bench. In case you were wondering, I did make sure you were in good hands.” I felt betrayed, how can she befriend my friend? No. No. This is wrong. I asked her suspiciously, “Did you tell him about my parents?” I did not want my friend to pity me. She replied, “No. It’s your truth to tell. However,I did tell him how we are related.” For the first time in a very long time, people had treated me like an adult. I guess it’s hard for you to understand. When you lose people so precious in your life, something in your being just changes. It’s like a switch goes flip. I felt responsible. I felt vulnerable. I knew I wouldn’t have a mother to guide me about the ways of the world when I became a teenager. I knew dad would not be around to help me decide on what I should be choosing for a career. But what I also knew was nobody was going to be around to fuss over me, make me my favorite sandwich, listen to my school time stories, and …and.. and.. Even now, every day, when I left home to catch my school bus, I could almost see my mom, wave at me until I disappeared from her sight. That was my most favorite memory of her. My dad was an Economics professor in a government college. For somebody teaching such a boring subject, he was curiously artistic. Mom hung his paintings all over the place. Most of all, I remembered him for the lullabies that he sung to me.
Life continued on like that - school, music , my friend and now a family.
Finally, it was time to leave Ooty and go to a boarding school in the north. It had almost been a year since I first set foot in that quaint town. I did not tell my friend that I was leaving. I was not going to cry, not now. Or for that matter, have someone cry for me. As usual, I went to meet my friend near the bench on my last day in ooty. It had gotten quite late, since I was busy packing. I told him, I was going to leave the next day. He was quiet for a bit and then asked “Have you had dinner?” I replied in affirmative. He then asked if finished packing and I said that I had. In a rather low voice he said he wanted to sing a lullaby for me. Very unexpected. I said a rather feeble “ok”. And so, he started…
“Sapno ke ghar ki chat pe hein tare
toffiyon ki deewaro pe latke goobare
haathi ghode bhalu sher cheeete saare
badalon ne kaise-kaise rup dhare
ghar ke ujiyare so ja re
daddy tere jagein tu so ja re
dhundne se khushiyon ki rahein nahin milti
maangne se man ki muaradein nahin khilti
mile jo na tujhe des mein hamare
de jayenge nindiyan ke andhiyare
sapno ke ghar ki…”
(from the movie, daddy)
I cried. And cried for what seemed like eternity. It was my favorite lullaby that my dad sang for me since I was little. It was my dad's favorite too. He always told me that the lullaby was his way of telling me to dream the impossible. To explore my world. Through this song he meant "Dream and then work hard to achieve your dream, my angel. I will be there for you, always.". I hugged him and poured my heart out. I told him all that happened. I told him about my longings and I told him how much I missed my parents. I also told him how much I was going to miss him.
My friend said he chose this song because this was his favorite lullaby that he sang to his daughter. He had a 2 year old daughter (named raaga) whom he would bring to the park every day. On that fateful day, raaga had demanded candy from the candy cart standing outside the park, near the bench. In the time that my friend let go of her hand to search for change in his pocket, raaga had started walking away from the bench and towards the road. She was run over by a reckless driver. My friend never forgave himself. He came to that bench everyday looking for forgiveness.
I told him “You saved me.” With those 3 little words, we both made our peace with God that day.
end of story
The Song & what it means to me:
This song has a lot of significance in my life. It's a song that always brings tears to my eyes whenever i hear it. It's the voice. It's that feeling when you know somebody will be there for you, come what may. It forces one to stay awake to listen to this lullaby when you are dead tired after a hard day's work and all you initially wanted to do was to just fall asleep.
I practice this song, almost everyday, in hope that someday i will sing this song to my daughter, raaga. :). Ofcourse, I will replace the "daddy" with a "mommy". No, i don't have a daughter, yet. But I, well, i just dream on.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Sapno ke ghar ki...Chapter 1
Chapter 1
I was a little girl, back then. I climbed down from the train into this new world where I knew no one. My parents had died in a car crash 2 weeks ago and my aunt and uncle brought me to their home in ooty. Through the eyes of this 8 year old, ooty was a quaint town with very quaint people. Nobody spoke a thing. It was quiet and gloomy. People kept to themselves. Maybe, it was just my perception. I had not cried a tear since the police came to my house that day. I learnt to keep to myself, cursing God for every moment of my life. As time passed, I became indifferent. To God and all his beings.
I spent most of my time gazing out of my window that overlooked a play ground. I was not staring at the children or the swings on the play ground, I was staring at nothingness. Space. Empty space. There was a bench right in front of the park, on the road. Sometimes, when I looked out from the window, I would see an old man sitting on the bench. And before long, I was back to nothingness. It wasn’t that my new family was not caring and understanding. Somebody had moved my cheese and left me searching. Like every other child, I went to school. Did math and science and English. And moral science. Somehow my teacher at school seemed to think that God was fair. I was perpetually perplexed but I never explained my confusion to her. She wouldn’t understand. What does she know?
One day, as I religiously perused my daily ritual of gazing outside my window sill, I heard a very sweet voice. It seemed like a lullaby. The old man on the bench was humming a tune. Something in that voice made me walk towards him. I sat down on the bench next to him but did not say a word. The stranger smiled. He began humming again, this time with a smile on his face. I sat there for a while and then went back to my room. A few days later, the old man appeared again. This time it was a different tune but his voice had the same melancholy in his voice. It seemed like he was yearning for something. Or was it just me again? I came out and sat with him on the bench, yet again. We did not speak a word. He sang, I listened. With each passing day, I gathered a little more courage to sit a little more closer to him. Many months hence, I was about ½ the bench length away.
Then one day, he sang “sa…”. He waited. He sang “sa…”. I looked at him and he sang “sa..” again. In a rather weak voice, I responded with my “sa..”. He continued, “re…”. At that moment, I realized it did not feel awkward to sing on road, with him. This time, it was a much stronger “re..” from me. The old man’s eyes seems to gleam very brightly as he moved on to “ga..ma..pa..dha…ne…sa..”. And that’s how I began filling my world with music.
Chapter 2 to follow shortly
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