'When I was the ‘Johnny-Come-Lately’

Gave this for the newsletter. Too long, so I doubt a postive response, but well.

We all know what words like, ‘afresh’, ‘new’ and ‘beginning’ mean, don’t we? But a few of us do realize what they feel like. I am one of those ‘few’ who’ve felt and tasted a beginning-a beginning that I ironically felt was the ultimate end! Now, I believe the feeling of it being the end has subsided and I’ve steered through the series of events that followed and are following. It’s these events I write to express about.

My beginning (or the assumed-to-be end) greeted me a bittersweet welcome on 26^th March 2011- That was THE day. Now it’s October 2012, a year and a half since the doleful experience took place. Till this anniversary, I don’t recollect even one of those 18 months in which I wasn’t faced with a muddle about whether to celebrate or mourn. I face the same today. Ah, the ironies of life!

Landing on the Indian soil, in the Indian capital city seemed to simply wash away the strong hold of my old memories that had had me engrossed for the entire journey. After all, isn’t that the power of this mysterious and magical subcontinent? To add to my strength it did ‘not’ rain that day. Growing up watching Bollywood films makes you want to feel low and depressed during rains by default. But, it did rain one day- it rained in the Taj city that was my new home, the final destination of the journey I started at my old place, Lagos. And, it did bring lots of whining, crying, screeching- really strong blows of nostalgia.

I had already started school by then. Starting school here didn’t mean I hadn’t received education before; it was just a small beginning in the big one mentioned earlier. And this one was a very helpful and assistive one, one that shall be remembered with happy thoughts forever (that’s till I live). 

The first day in Delhi Public School, Agra was not as a student, but as one of those (probably) thirty children who aspired to be a part of this brimming-with-life institute. And to my amazement I became a part of it. It was sheer amazement as I expected a ‘no’ to my admission because of the horrifyingly bad interview I’d given a few days earlier.

Then came the regular school life. Don’t tell me you believed that, things don’t come easy, at least not if you’re the Johnny-come-lately. My first day was devastating and I mean it! The eleventh class’s block seemed to be imaginary, lost in the cacophony the students created and in the immensity of the maze that only those new faces I saw seemed to have deciphered. There seemed to be hundreds of students everywhere I looked (making me know, that yes, this is the second most populated country!) and it also seemed like they were all giving me their Cheshire-cat smiles, except for five.  Now those five out of that bunch of hundred students I include in my list of best friends. And frankly, I still can’t think very well those who behaved all aloof. First impressions are the last ones, aren’t they?

My first day also had two to-be-cherished moments. One, in which we were all asked to write about ourselves and speak it out in class- I tried my best to give my best first impression I could. I think I did. I impressed my first day partner, Tanvi Arora at least! The write-up still rests in my bag of memories. The second one was more of an invitation that I declined initially, but somehow got forced into being a part of it. The Debate it was. This topic could itself have an essay on it, so jumping to conclusions, the aftermaths of the competition(s) were: two new friends in grade twelve and a friend disguised as a teacher, Mrs. Nisha Sachdeva.  But the fear from the person in front of whom we often practiced, the same person who interviewed me did not seem to subside, and still does prevail.

Months passed by and then finally as bonds between friends grew stronger with silly fights, misunderstandings, rule breakings, entering prohibited places and scolding from our In-charge, (I take this opportunity to apologize) today I finally have a routine school life after all the mayhem: Waking up, getting ready, boarding the bus, reaching my class without getting lost, spending lovely moments with friends and finding my way correctly back to the bus (that I needed aid for on day one). Oh, and of course, somewhere studying fits too (Science students you know, had to mention it once!) I now end with a sigh that this regularized school life is already approaching its end, or should I say- another Beginning? As the end is where we begin, right?

- आ कां क्षा .

I Saw Him See Me.

अधिक सहस के साथ :

First things first, bollywood makes us mad. That’s why our new generation is mad, insane, reaching the peaks of craze, not that I’m excluded. Yes, Rancho was right in ‘Three Idiots’, the dupatta does fly in slow motion and background music does start playing. Invisible and inaudible, they happen. It doesn’t rain for sure, but the shower of happiness in your heart and the intense flow of blood, for the first time reaching all those long dead cells of your brain’s emotional corner for the first time happens! I know, I sound all ‘GooGoo-ish’, but maybe, maybe I am.

So, well ahem err umm, yeah, where was I? Okay, there, ahaan! Those butterflies I tell you, nectar can’t be found in my stomach, but they could try his lips. Eek, I’m being hopeless. So, as I said, bollywood makes us all insane. It has made me hopeless. I have been dragged and pushed into the well of encircling dreams and hopeless hopes. I live there. Amongst my friends, amongst my parents, brother, society, I swim in there. And it feels great!

Just the night before, he saw me doing something foolish, very foolish rather. And he smiled. I ignored, he smiled, he freaking looked back and smiled. Things rushed through me, and I don’t know what kind of things. JUST THINGS!  A few minutes ago, I’d fumbled before him, and asked him to tell me something about someone and used his name in place if that someone and went all like ‘Oh, I used your name, sorry!’ It’s okay, isn’t it? He fumbles too. DAMN, HE DOESN’T!

I don’t know why I typed the above paragraph, but I’m not deleting it.

Something happens you know. I’ve crushed trillion times, not exactly, like you believed that, but this one’s not normal. I can’t meet his eyes and my mind is all blank. I sit there in front of him with him speaking and I try to understand. Not that I’m dumb, or he is highly intellectual. Get that right.

The shape of his incisors becomes so important all of a sudden. The way he does his hair and how he sweats matters so much! It’s ridiculous, but not false! The worst kind of craziest feeling that can ever approach you is when he takes your name. He’s taken mine, so many times, that I go all ‘I-was-born-for-this-moment’-ish. He says, ‘Akanksha’ in the most beautiful possible manner that my name sounds like it’s worth a billion bucks, that too is too less at the moment. *How do I explain this?!*

Let’s get sensible. Let me do what I love doing these days. Talk about him, and insult him. Yes, weirdly I like doing it. He is, naa, it’d be rude. *How much help do I need?* Fine. A deep breath in and a long one out.  Woosh! Things aren’t getting worse, so you can relax that smile. Frankly, I don’t know why I started writing and why I’m even continuing. I’m wasting time, I know, but you’re jobless that you’re reading. So, read on.

When he enters the class room, I all shivers, I’m equal to half dead. Especially when he wears his blue and black shirt. He needs to give up on the grey one, but I have no means to let him know. He keeps his nails trimmed though. Just in case you wanted to know, and I’ve seen him wear three different shoes. He’s rich, yeahh! I hate his watch though, boring, with a leather belt. Hopeless. He just has one half- sleeved shirt I believe, probably he is a drug addict and like full sleeves even during summers. Wanna know something stupid, I can’t wait to see his winter wear. It’s gonna be our first winter!!

And now I need to stop, I’ll end with a memory of how he once asked me to calm down when I was all hyper over a silly thing. No words were used, it was simple and just involved expressions, the language of love. *AAAAAA* Okay. Thanks. Bye. <3

- आ कां क्षा .

“Life exists on earth”

"You set out on a zoomed in ride and begin in outer space, aptly out enough to see the two most- sighed at planets. You’re looking at the two of them, side by side, large spheres that they are. One remains red and brown, dead, like a pebble; while the other shimmers with beauty. The latter is our earth, blue, green, brown and white, a blend of colors and a blend of the perfect ‘ingredients’ necessary to life. It rests there like a pretty marble, spinning silently, with a small drop-like sphere examining it each day. The scene rests here, and you admire the difference and feel blessed, feel like one in a trillion! You gaze at the other planet, Mars and are astonished by the odds. The universe truly played well between destiny and fate!

You’ve managed to, with craze in your mind; grasp the idea of how unimaginably things fell into place for you. Now, we zoom in further. Let’s get Mars out of the view, hard lucked that it is. You can see the globe clearer now. Large enough to have you in tears, it is right there, in front of you! You try hard to shut that mouth, but it hangs in amazement. There in front of you is the most beautiful thing that will ever be known! Your eyes then rest upon a portion, dark on the face of the planet, but lit up like a forest full of fire-flies. It extends around a defined zone, leaving the blue parts bare. You’re confused, and desperate to know. Suddenly, you notice, an object floating across. Not drop-like, not spherical, alien in this universe, differing from nature’s law of spheres. Hard it is, cylindrical with solid wings. You know it’s not God’s creation. The look of it sets you back, sends you into wondering, ‘what is this? What’s going on down there?!’ And you set out.

The scene is zoomed in more, after you’re ready to really know. You’re past layers of empty spaces, from violet to dark blue, the color changes on and on. The drop like revolving object gets farther and farther, getting smaller and smaller. And, then you’re there. Amidst the fluffiness of cotton like white floating, weightless clouds. You stay there for a while, and explore more. What you see now, gets you almost in dead surprise! On the surface of this smooth sphere, there are elevations. Huge elevations, soaring up to you, packed so closely that again you feel nature’s playing on you. Grey, brown, green and yellow, these elevations are wondrous. Cup-cake shaped, they rise outward. Between then you notice tiny colored bugs whizzing by. SHOCKED! You stare blankly! It wasn’t like you imagined.

Excited to explore and know what these bugs are up to, you move a layer lower. At grey fluffiness you rest. Above you the drop looks silver and appears like one natural element, and you look at it for assurance. Just then, a white, long winged noisy machine passes by, and blocks your view. You shut your ears are try to look. All you can manage to see after the shower of particles on you is that the machine surely didn’t mean to serve any good. You are scared now, you look down again. But before your fear is conquered, the grey fluffiness around you trembles. Without a moment for gathering your senses, down you are with the clouds, but it’s wet now. You realize that you’re in the gap between the elevations and are feeling lucky and amazed all of a sudden.

It’s a world dominated by bipedal colored creatures, each one rushing, and each one screaming. There is noise, and you realize that the bugs aren’t bugs. They’re things, weird things that carry the creatures around. You are hell dead to explore more. You go close to one and watch it glow red from the back and then whizz past suddenly. You’re there, coughing, sneezing, grasping for life.  The bug left behind a grey cloud, but one unlike the one you encountered on your journey down. You’re beginning to hate it here. No one even looks at you. You don’t feel welcomed and rather remember home, where you sat by the large banyan on the green grass. You were told it’s a world similar enough, but you’re expedition has proved wrong. Not a sign of peace and silence can your ears find and you start weeping.

You sit down aside the crowd and observe more. You feel sorry for these creatures, which are missing on so much. Just then you see a room, where everyone mumbled on things. You go in as you’re starving. But, when you see them eating their mates, their earthly companions, all you do in screech! Where have you been left? Where have you come? What is this around you? You thought there existed only these creatures, but that wasn’t even nearly true. It was diverse; this place was beautiful, just like what you thought it would be from above. But, its beauty was being eaten up, literally! You run away.  

You thought you’d seen enough. Trees all destroyed, animals being eaten, poisonous clouds being released from bugs and noise and havoc everywhere. You close your eyes and remember home, how it used to be. How you played with the sheep and kissed the rabbits. How you snuggled with the dogs and fed the monkeys! Hostility was something that had you almost crushed from within. You eventually decide to leave.You simply leave behind a note on the road with hope that still lives within you. You’ve had it. You’ve had it. ."

But we, we know he did not have it yet. Yes we do! What had he even seen? Non vegetarians, hah! Pollution, oh, come on! Artificial rain and sky scrapers, that’s advancement, it’s the quotient of the advancement of human life from lawns to boxes, right? If you were to tour the poor fellow, wouldn’t you boast about those cars and about the discovery of petrol? Wouldn’t you show him those generators that powered your city and those factories that produced your sophisticated utilities? Of course you would! Then why wouldn't you show him how great your city was, and take him to a sewage treatment plant. Show him how beautifully you feed your water and how then you spend money to get it cleaned! Show him how you're advancing in technology to stop emission of pollution. Show him how greatly high your planet's education is that you can mix tigers with lions and zebras with donkeys for the damned fun of it! SHOW IT! FLAUNT IT! You won't right? Why? 

Want to know what he left behind for you? Here it is. It was found in the bin last night.

"My Children,
I planned on coming home today after 70 years. I thought I'd be greeted and would encounter the old mother earth we worshiped. I was devastated when I saw what had happened. I felt all inferior. I did not feel at home.

I wish I could take you back in time and show you what we visioned for you all. Alas, things have turned out horrifyingly! I thought I'd sit by the pond and feed the ducks, but I realised that you found feeding yourself with them more sensible. Maybe I'm a bit too old to understand you, and a bit too conservative. 

Yet, I'd want to share with you a talisman for you future. Save the planet children, save it! Passed on for ages, I say it again, 'You haven't inherited the world from your forefathers, you've borrowed it from your children!' 

In the end, before I leave I promise you that I'll tell no one about your mistake. But, I'll surely bring along everyone else and show them the new world you'll surprise, and not shock me with.

Remember children, ours is the only planet, no home anywhere else. Life exists on earth, and that's why you exist.

Thank you." 

That Strange Boy Who Sat by the Nanny.

Big eyes with long pitch black lashes, lips with a bent in gravity’s direction and a small nose on which his spectacles miraculously stayed up: this was the strange boy. Fair like he had never been in the sun, probably because he just wasn’t made to go out in it, as he was handicapped. This boy, for sure some day will be aroused with the desire to get tanned, and hopefully, his desire shall be fulfilled. After all, in the home of the All mighty, happiness does come late, but it surely does come.

You read ‘handicapped’, and formed the image of a saddened little boy with no reason to laugh for in his life, right? Now stop stereotyping here too. Erase that image, because this boy has got the vision that has probably encountered the secret to stay happy that our well developed minds too couldn’t catch hold of. He is Mr. Cheerful, ever-smiling and friendly. Different, yes he is, but not indifferent as us.

This boy, the not-well-developed part of the two embryos that formed him and his twin sister may be physically impaired, but has a mind that has compensated for the loss. To amaze you, as it amazed me, this boy excels at academics, reads well and at the same time sings too. And, believe me he sings great enough to leave behind several others of his age. I had heard him practice his songs on India the morning before the special assembly was to be conducted for our Republic Day. He caught the bus’s attention, and everyone who usually screamed, listened in awe.

There was a time when I had my seat behind his and he would stare back at me. Hell yes, it was awkward at first, but with the passage of time, his eyes turned soothing. He played odd- eve with me, quite a popular game in the school buses. (You have to pull out fingers like you do in stone paper and scissors, and if the two match, you lose the match and the number of fingers you’ve removed before that become your score. There are complicated versions too. I due to lack of professionalism like the 5^th graders, know only that.) At times he played a weird ID Card game. He took mine and mixed it with his and asked me to guess which one was his. I was always right. Wanna know the secret? Well, he mixed them keeping the blank side facing towards him. But, due to the kindness I have, I tell you, at times I let him win, and the smile was unbeatable.

Slightly squint, when he looked upward and laughed his laugh of joy, I felt blessed to be a reason behind it. But, things have changed. Buses have changed. The time doesn’t remain. I haven’t seen him for a while now. My new bus has no such angel, each one lies in the world that is alien to me, craving for attention, screaming for food, no time for realization and introspection. I sit back and read my physics, chemistry or biology. I miss him. I miss Naman and his way of taking me away from the truth. I wish the best for him, wish he gets more and more apples to eat (he loved them and offered them to me too at times, when he was in the mood!). And I know he’ll be fine, the smarty pants that he is. 

-आ कां क्षा .

My Autobiography: Delivery of the XX, I am Born.

4.33PM, 13^TH July 1995: To be born on the 18^TH because of an unanticipated emergency, during the warm and queasy afternoon, in possibly one the best hospitals that could be found in the small town of Etawah, Uttar Pradesh (Of course, the hospital nowhere matched standards of our modern day city hospitals.) I was born, but supposedly dead.

We all know, when babies first set their little bums on hospital beds, all covered in the blood from their mother’s womb, they cry- rather screech! Learned people claim from trustworthy researches that it’s because the amniotic fluid in the lungs is replaced by air, and this makes the baby’s first breath devastatingly painful. And other learned people assume the wailing comes out because the child doesn’t want to set foot on such a dreadful place, so called the Mrutyulok, the place where everything dies. From the warm cradle of the heavenly mother’s uterus where they lay safe and sound, they land into a cold environment, cold because of temperature and because of the brutality of the so-called-cold-yet warm-blooded humans. Whatever be the reason, babies cry when delivered- when their sealed and comfortable packaging abruptly opens up. But, I wasn’t one of those normal kinds. I was a blue baby. I was as good as dead.

We’ve heard of the umbilical cord, haven’t we? The blue-white cord that’s attached to the navel of the new borns? It is used to transfer the deoxygenated blood into the mother’s placenta, and is one of those immensely important structures for providing the heavenly experience of the womb to the fetus. But, in some great ones, like those born on a Thursday: portraying smartness is inevitable. (We all remember singing: …Wednesday’s child is kind of heart; Thursday’s child is very smart; Friday’s child will never part…) I was one of those smart ones born on a Thursday. Taking advantage of my expanse of the uterus, I moved, rotated, danced and swam in the space my mother had to offer. As a result of which, I landed up chocking myself with something meant to provide nutrition- The umbilical cord. And, so when I was delivered, I was all blue out of lack of oxygen, lack of nutrition.

People believe that a child born with this cord around their neck is born with blessings from God Hanuman. But, at that instance, neither my mother nor the doctors or nurses wanted such a blessing. There was chaos, utter chaos.

The nurses immediately carried me to another operation theater, where I was operated right after birth. My mother lay on her bed, screeching- doing something that if done by me would surely make her smile. She believed she’d lost me. She was out of control. None out of my grandmother, grandfather, uncles and aunts could stop her from whining. She knew I was dead. She knew that I was never born. She knew that the pain she bore for nine whole months bore her no fruit. She knew that I just wasn’t there!

There isn’t any suspense for you know I survived, or else this autobiography wouldn’t have been there. This chapter could have been the last one, if this was to be a biography. But, that didn’t happen. The girl, for whose birth my mother had craved for, for all the four years since her marriage, was there. The Gods were in no mood of disappointing her any more. I lived. The chaos passed away, and I was brought- alive!

My mother’s pain did subside, even though the pain of my father not being there with her during this hard situation still did not seem to cease. Rather, even after holding me in her arms, she had a reason to be angry! This reason was given to her by, not me, but her mother who had all this while been telling people of the town in the hospital that my mother was crying because she’d had a daughter! And, this was believed by the masses; after all it’s a common thing in India, something that accounts for the low sex ratio.

But eventually, I was born! With blessings from Hanuman (maybe) I survived. With constant prayers of my mother and father for a daughter, (maybe) I survived. With the perfect timing of the doctor and nurses, I survived. I survived, and was thus, BORN.

- आ कां क्षा .

Man's Double Dealing.

He flees from quandaries that bring him pain,
but feels no grief when he bestows the same.

He enjoys flattery that goes on forever,
but granting the same praise, you’ll see him do never.

Other’s actions to him are questionable,
but when he does the same, it’s all reasonable.

He seeks humor from one’s blues,
but he needs one to guide him through his hullabaloos.

He remarks on the anxiety in the eyes that wait,
but patience, for him is just not his life-style’s trait.

He fiddles with delicate bonds feeling not even the least of agitation,
but when the same unkindness falls upon him, he is ever-ready for retaliation.

Yes, it’s true he hates those who’re double-faced,
but unknowingly above his own identity, a mask he has placed.

- आ कां क्षा 

The Reminiscence of an Aesthetic Egghead. : Are you Living, Experiencing, Enduring?

The Reminiscence of an Aesthetic Egghead. : Are you Living, Experiencing, Enduring?: If with sighs you start on Every single dawn, If it’s like you want a halt from the day’s unwanted call, you’re living, experiencin...

Are you Living, Experiencing, Enduring?

If with sighs you start on

Every single dawn,

If it’s like you want a halt
from the day’s unwanted call,
you’re living, experiencing, enduring.

If the sounds around you- the noise

You desire to shut- each and every voice,

If in peace and patience you aspire to dwell,

You know silence has got too much to tell,

You’re living, experiencing, enduring.

If the soft breeze (to you) appears to sing

And with huge trees you wish to cling,

If every flower seems to smile at you

And recites to you the poems told to it by the dew,

You’re living, experiencing, enduring.

If drizzles and showers make you weep

And hearing their lullaby you’d love to sleep,

If thunder makes your heart still thud

And a rainbow drives away all those baneful evil buds,

You’re living, experiencing, enduring.

If the full moon gives you spirituality just as full

And the night at its peak makes you lull,

If seeing a star near the crescent

Makes you wish for those tenants and peasants,

You’re living, experiencing, enduring.

If you’re living with dreams un-attained

And believe your wealth isn’t in monetary gain,

If you strive breath after breath

And believe you’ll, your own destiny set,

You’re living, experiencing, enduring.

If you pause for moments unreasoningly

And at times act all unconsciously,

If you conscience gives out a voice real strong

That questions everything you’ve said and done all along,

You’re living, experiencing, enduring.

If you often question the idea of God

And with yourself argue, converse and talk,

If in the dullest of all noons

You wonder which way life’s taking you to,

You’re living, experiencing, enduring.

If you’ve ever felt the need of love

And the urge for your pain and grief to be curbed,

If you’ve ever strained yourself enough

To realize that earning love over money is though,

You’re living, experiencing, enduring.

If you’ve ever found yourself lonely at nights

And have wept, screeched, whined and cried,
if you still know that somewhere, something good persists,

You must know you’ve done more than just exist,

You’ve lived, experienced, endured.

 - आ कां क्षा .