Skip to main content

My Head's Above The Rain And Roses

I still remember fifth grade when I was too young to think about this but ended up thinking anyway.
I thought the people around me were the people who would stay with me forever.
I thought that this was my wolf pack.
I really enjoyed the company of all the people who were a part of it.
I was happy.
Post summer holidays when school reopened, I was all excited to meet my friends again and tell them stories about my summer vacation and enthusiastically listen to their stories.
Life, however, had other plans.
A week after school reopened a teacher walks into my class and tells me that I had to shift to another section.
That was perhaps my first ever heartbreak!
I packed my bag; my best friend was sobbing already.
I left my pack.
I vowed to have lunch with them every day, spend time with them after classes and all.
It never works that way though.
After a while, I started to feel out of place.
My best friends felt like my ex-best friends.
They were living their life, definitely, but I was not a part of it anymore. I had to make new friends.
The section I was in already had its pack, and there was no vacancy for a new member.
What would a ten-year-old do?
I part timed at different packs.
Some welcomed me; some didn't.
It almost took me a year and a half to stumble across the right people. We formed our small pack.
Our pack slowly expanded and shrunk to its original size by the time I passed out of school.
Four years later, when I am in a similar situation with a different backdrop, the first people to reciprocate are the people I left behind in a different city after school.
There is nothing much they, as individuals could do for a wounded wolf, far from home.
To make new friends or to adjust with the ones that don't care.
"Been there, done that." I guess it's time.
The vacancies are lower.
I wouldn't fit in most vacant places either.
A friend once asked me, "Do you think you'll survive, all alone?"
Because I'm still breathing, I'm still breathing on my own.
My head's above the rain and roses, making my way, away.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

To Baburao Ganpatrao Apte

To Baburao Ganpatrao Apte, There's something about you that left an indelible laughter in my mind ever since the first time I saw you on screen. Wait, do you understand you are no comedian or joker. You are an alcoholic, debt stricken bloke always swaying to and fro between Raju's cunning mind and Shyam's righteous attitude. You affirmed your seniority everywhere but you never made any sense to me or anyone out there. Tenants need to pay their rent. You get it right? On my off days, when I see your unadulterated smile it bewilders me - I mean how can this man live with such conviction and ease. What about his isolated life? His debts? These questions linger on my mind. It's not okay to be unambitious and surrender to your fate but when life doesn't give you 'Star Fisheries', you can always show some content in your dilapidated 'Star Garage'. Your innocent gullibility, incorruptibility and rustic lunacy bought chuckles. Well, you need to learn that Sh...

Tujhe Kitna Chahne Lage Hum...

There comes a phase in our life, where neither can we hold feelings, nor can we let it go. We hopelessly love them without any expectations, without any condition, and even knowing they won't love you back, you still love them holding all the broken pieces of your heart. 'Tujhe Kitna Chahne Lage', is a song that directly holds the feeling we always want to express but we can't. And every time the songs plays randomly from our playlist, we all just feel the song immensely, holding the feelings out, which were graved deep inside our heart. // दिल का दरिया बह ही गया... राहों में यूँ जो तू मिल गया // It's not easy to love someone who we know won't love us back ever, where this song is a struggle between heart and mind, and how difficult is it to hold onto the feelings and even its not easy to let it go and move on. This song best represents the unrequited love, the unsaid emotions, and a broken heart. // वक्त ने है किया हम पे कैसा सितम... तुम भी बेज़ार हो, बर्बाद है...

Tea for Two!

 I pour water in the bright red pot, gleaming on the outside, a bit rusty on the inside. Red was always your color. Your wardrobe was literally fifty shades of it. The familiarity and warmth of the color red make me smile as I bring it to boil. “Look for angry water bubbles,” you used to say when you were teaching me how to make tea instead of stacking my kitchen counter with instant coffee sachets. I take out the twin tin containers marked “sugar” & “tea” off the cabinet and carefully put them in, systematically counting the number of teaspoons and measuring the amount in each. “I prefer coffee,” I used to whine but would still let you hold my hand as we put in the sugar, not too much, not too less, surprisingly always the right amount. Then in went the tea leaves, a bit less than I'd like, I always had a taste for intense flavors. But I rarely complained for I knew how much you valued your perfect, daily cup of tea. I then pour in the milk, thinking how I'd never been abl...