ARAINA- Part (iii)

 (ARAINA is a new series I have come up with. Do share your views as to how you feel about Araina. Happy reading)

Link to Part (ii)

Araina met Kamran a few years back in the same cafe. As always, Araina was alone enjoying her solitude with Murakami’s Norwegian Wood in her hand and Kamran was sitting with a friend on the opposite table. Kamran had been noticing Araina for a long time while she was engrossed in the book. For once their eyes met and Kamran smiled. Araina did not respond, however she noticed that Kamran was handsome and very graceful. Kamran searched something in his backpack and took out The Great Gatsby, the famous book by F. Scott Fitzgerald. He wrote his name on the book, went to Araina and kept it on her table. Araina was stunned and excited. Stunned as she did not expect a book from a stranger and excited because it was a book. For Araina books were her best friends. They had no questions and no demands and they listened to Araina's commands, her needs, and her desires. For her, reading a book with soothing instrumental music in background was nothing less than the meditation. Araina did not say anything and opened the book and read softly “Kamran”. Kamran was still standing near her table smiling and Araina said hastily, “I have read this book. It is wonderful.” She was still wondering that how Kamran knew that it was one of her favourite books and Kamran was happy that his guess was right. While sitting on the chair opposite to Araina, Kamran said “So what do you think about Mr Gatsby, miss?” “Araina, Araina is my name.”

 

Kamran was working in USA embassy in Afghanistan when he started getting threats from Taliban. Seeing his family in danger Kamran moved away from them and shifted to Bamiyan, a culturally rich city located in Central Afghanistan. However, the threats did not stop and Kamran and his family were forced to come to India as refugee. Since then he was working as a translator to people who come from Afghanistan to India for medical facilities. Alongwith Pashto and Dari, the two official languages of Afghanistan, Kamran was fluent in English and Hindi. Araina gave credit of Kamran’s fluency over languages to his reading. Kamran was an avid reader, and his love for books brought Kamran and Araina close to each other. With Kamran, things fell in place really smoothly. Kamran was different from other guys. He was simple yet intelligent, he had seen struggle so could decipher more deeply about what life is, having two sisters and a mom at home he was really good with females. Respecting women comes naturally to him and for Araina that was the rare virtue. In that one year with Kamran, Araina had visited various Afghani restaurants, she had tried all Afghani cuisines and relished them. For Kamran also that one year went in a jiffy. Araina took him to watch India-Pakistan cricket match where Kamran in his full enthusiasm shouted for India and Araina could not stopped laughing.

 

Art was, what Araina loved. She did not fall in love with a person, she fell in love with his art. And like love, art was present everywhere- in his way of talking, in his way of converting his thoughts into poetry, in his way of calling her name, in his kiss and in his way of walking beside her holding her hands.  Araina completely fallen for Kamran. However, there were no false promises made. After one year, Kamran got a really good opportunity in Germany, and he had to leave. Araina had wondered many a times that why all positive things like friendship, love and life are temporary and all negative things like hatred, enmity and death are permanent.

Well, Araina was already prepared for this and she always cherished the moments she had spent with Kamran.

 

“Excuse me, here is your Naan-e-Afghani”, the waiter came with their order. Both Toby and Araina passed a smile at each other  and hogged onto it.      

to be continued...

ARAINA- Part (ii)

(ARAINA is a new series I have come up with. Do share your views as to how you feel about Araina. Happy reading)

Link to Part (i)

Toby went out in the balcony to have a drag of cigarette and Araina followed him. Araina did not like Toby’s habit of smoking but she had never told him. This was the only bad habit Toby possessed and Araina did not want Toby to be perfect. For Araina like happiness, perfection was also a myth. Araina’s life had always been adventurous. She was bullied when she was thirteen, she lost her mother when she was eighteen and she survived synovial sarcoma, some rare deadly disease as doctors had told her. Pain changes people and Toby knew that Araina's sufferings had changed her completely. Her sufferings had made her free. And it was this freedom which always resulted in failed relationships for Araina. All she did was be her, whoever that be and that was not acceptable to the male chauvinists she loved. Araina had started enjoying her solitude and when felt lonely, Toby always came as her rescue. Araina never found a companion more compatible than solitude and a stranger more antithetical than loneliness.  In solitude she tried to find herself and in loneliness the others. For her solitude was the state of being rich and loneliness of being in terrible poverty.

 

Araina and Toby came inside to seize one more glass. Toby called the waiter and asked Araina what she wanted to have. She repeated her menu and asked Toby, “Why is it always necessary to make a choice?” and Toby replied, “Well you have the power to choose at least.” Araina pondered for a while and said, “I have power to choose, but I do not have power to escape the necessity of choice. As the ‘change’, the ‘choice’ always remains constant. It is difficult to decide what is better.” Being an epicure Tody ordered his favourite Naan-e-Afghani, another word for Afghan bread and he knew that Araina also cherished the same. He was well aware that the word Afghan would bring her out of her doldrums and would take her into some good old memories. 

to be continued...

ARAINA- Part (i)

(ARAINA is a new series I have come up with. Do share your views as to how you feel about Araina. Happy reading)

It was the usual Friday night in Delhi. She entered her favourite cafe with Toby, her very close college friend, to experience that alcohol punch. Being the lawyers practicing in Delhi, their conversations started with the Supreme Court judgments and various new Acts introduced by the Government to revive economy of the nation. For Araina, Toby was the only person with whom she could talk on any topic be it politics, laws, philosophy, books, travel, movies, love or sex. Araina was an ambivert. She avoided huge groups but could talk endlessly if she becomes comfortable. It was weekend but the cafe was quite empty. Being the music lover, Araina took a table in front of the disc jockey and waited for Daksh to play her favourite music. Araina and Daksh had never talked to each other. What bound them together was Daksh’s love for the music and Araina’s love for the dance. Music is indeed the best language in the world. Araina often imagined her love life in a form of music. Someone who would be like a soothing song with beautiful lyrics, calm, rhythmic and melodious, who she could feel when she was happy and who she needed when it was gloomy, someone who would be all over her like what was music to her. Music was the only thing which could dominate her. Music was the only thing which could change her mood instantly. A glance was passed between Araina and Daksh and seeing her, he knew that it was going to be a successful party.

 

“Isn’t the whole world moves around a single stimulation, a single kick?” Araina threw a random thought on Toby. Perplexed Toby looked at Araina. “I mean, see the people around here. No doubt they have lot of money with them. Look at their luxurious dresses and the glasses they are holding. They should be content. But they don’t look satisfied. Everyone here seems looking for a thrill, an adventure.” Toby simply nodded as he knew there was more to come from Araina. “I have seen people loving their spouse but still entering into extra marital affairs, I have seen people with lot of money but still entering into corruption, I have seen people having everything they could wish for but still they are restless. I feel what is missing in their life is that spur, a reason to break their monotony.” Meanwhile Toby was looking at the guy on next table who was continuously staring at Araina. Already in her deep thoughts Araina continued, “There is a darker side to every human being living on this earth. And to satisfy that side people enter into so called immoral deeds.” Toby reacted, “So you mean that extra marital and corruption are not immoral acts.” Araina again went into deep thoughts and took a sip from her glass.  “For me nothing is moral or immoral, it is all in the mind.”

The floor was still empty and Araina knew she had to do something to let the party going. Toby was relishing his white sauce pasta. Araina picked up her glass and kept it on the side table and started swinging on the music. Daksh smiled and Araina was ignorant about it. Her eyes closed, Araina was dancing as if she was hypnotised by the music. Music makes life so beautiful. That mesmerizing piece touched her ears and took her into the fantasy world. All what was required was to close the eyes and forgot all the sorrows. The music changed and Araina stopped and opened her eyes to grab her glass. To her amazed she was not the only one dancing at that time. She saw Daksh who by that time was jumping and playing his famous tunes. Araina possessed such powers. She came back to Toby and Toby hugged her.  Araina got confused and Toby laughed, “You have changed the whole ambience. It is amazing.” Araina smiled and putting her hair string at the back of her ear she said casually, “I don’t understand that why people are shy in doing what they like. Why they need someone to hold onto them, to encourage them, to tell them that they could do it. Why there is fear.”  Toby did not know that whether Araina was putting questions to him or to herself. 

to be continued....

YOU!

 With you enough is not enough

These days

More we meet, still it feels our meetings are lesser

These days

More time we spent, still cravings are more

These days

More we talk, more are the topics

These days

More we see each other, more is the remembrance

These days

With you enough is not enough

These days

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Nancy

STORY

I took a corner table from where I could see the whole place. I was alone. A friend of mine works in that café and he was coming now and then to my table to talk to me. I ordered a beer for myself and fish fingers, my favourite. It was a weekday, music was loud and few tables were occupied. 

When you sit alone, lot of stories keep coming to your mind. As I saw around the café, on one table there was a big family sitting with grandparents , parents and kids, all of them were having gala time together. On another table a couple was sitting with their small kid. Rather than noticing the place, they were engrossed in their cute kid making his small feet tap on the table, trying to make him dance. Few kids were dancing on the DJ floor with parents making their videos. On another side a party was going on with all the youngsters shouting and dancing. It was somebody's birthday I suppose. On each table, in every corner there was a different story. 

I realised that all of us are in some way or the other a part of a story. A happy story or a sad story, a love story or a travel story, story of a voyage or story of a return, comedy or a tragic story. We all are part of these small stories and ultimately a bigger larger story called life.

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Nancy

तुम !

 तुमसे चार पल का मिलना

जैसी जिंदगी जी ली हो उन चार पलों में

और कभी कभी घंटों का मिलना

बस चार पल जैसा लगता है

काफी नहीं होता कभी

तुमसे मिलना

तुम्हें छोड़ना

लगता है बहुत कुछ छोड़ दिया है 

बातों का सिलसिला

कभी खत्म ही नहीं होता है 

छह महीने होने को आये

और कितनी बातें अभी भी बाकी हैं

शायद तुम एक ही हो

जिससे इतनी बातें हम कर पाए

तुम बस सुनते जाओ

हम बस कहते जाएँ l

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नैन्सी

Malshej Ghat, Maharashtra

PEN PALS

Pen pals are people who write to each other via postal mails. 

I have got two pen pals and I love sending emails to them (not letters in traditional way, though I like the feel of paper and pen). Whenever I get a mail from them, I get excited. We talk about anything and everything on this earth - Which books we have read or are reading, which movies to watch, what we felt listening to that song or hearing that poetry. I don't have to think before writing anything to them. We agree or disagree to whatever the other person is saying. 

For those who know me, I cannot talk much on phone. I could talk on and on  if you are in front of me, otherwise I could write. 

I feel that conversations over phone, messenger, whatsapp, Instagram are limited to one liners and many a times too formal. More the mediums we have , lesser we are talking these days. And by talking I meant talking substance. 

Also I cannot talk in groups. And by group I meant more than two people. In groups I am mostly listening. 

Having pen pals is amazing. Get a pen pal, share your feelings, write. You could be your own pen pal also by writing diary entry.