Every now and then, his brain would slip into that space. Neither here nor there. It would be aware of what was happening and where he was, but just barely so. It wanted to pull him as far away from reality as it possibly could, yet keeping abreast, so that it could weave a fabric of non-dreams stitched together by possibility. A fabric that spread over vast areas of thoughts each night. From romantic calamities to sheer wishfulness. He looked forward to it all. During the day, logic and reality spoiled it for him. At night, dreams were scary. But in-between was when it used to all work out. When things seemed possible. The ending of his world, the achievement of his desires, the finding of right words, the right thoughts, the right questions, their answers. He felt he understood himself better this way. Nothing seemed scary in there. He felt at ease and the only thing that poked him was the consciousness that it would end soon and he would be forced into sleep. Then, probably, he would have to get through another dream.

Why was it like this, though? As a kid one of his favorite things was to start writing on a fresh page. But not the one on the left side of the notebook. It was the ones on the right that made him feel good. Though he hated writing, he loved the smooth, cold, fresh, right hand side pages. But even as he began one, he knew it would soon have to be flipped over, and then he would have to get through a painful left hand side page. Is that why things were the way they were? There should be a book that had only fresh right hand side pages on the front and back.

Thoughts like these. That may not make complete sense, but were so pure and rich anyway. They never occurred during the day or in the night. He had but only a small window to live everyday. A window with a beautiful view, of a place he knew he would never visit. He reminded himself each day to capture whatever he could see out of there so that it could get him through his tomorrow. But as always, he knew sleep was creeping up on him to make sure he returned to the same colorless misery. Before he was dragged into the pointless tug between awareness and sleep, 'It seems like it won't happen tonight either' was the last thing he remembered telling himself.

He was sitting there. All 75 odd inches and 100 kilos of him. Imposing on and consuming that tiny cabin. The air conditioner whirred in a low hum as I sat across the table thinking of about 23 things at the same time. 'What is it about some people?", I wondered. Why are they just so unapproachable. I had absolutely no reason to fear anything. This man just happened to have a reputation of being quirky and hard-to-please. Or so rumor had it. And whats with the head games? People had painstakingly cultivated an image of this huge man, with an even huger aura around him. And, I was thinking now, they hadn't exaggerated. He just sat staring at the worksheet on the screen, completely not amused. I felt like the silence in the room was on his side, and I was left alone, nowhere to hide.

And then it happened. The silence was shattered. An involuntary sound that not even the big man could suppress. The most thickest, densest, wettest, longest, and the most resounding fart ever, echoed in that quiet cabin for about 3 seconds. 3 freaking long seconds. So long, yet not long enough for me to figure out how I was to react. I waited for the echoes in the room, and in my mind, to die. Then our eyes met. He grimaced. I sniggered. My thoughts were playing catch up with my actions, and before the 'don't laugh you moron' synapse fired in my brain, my eyes were already watering from a poorly stifled laugh. Then the laugh went away, when the dense air made its way to my poor lungs. I didn't care who the guy was. I just wanted to get up and open the door. And that would have been perfectly justified. But because of my smooth maneuver with the laughter, I didn't find enough courage to hold my breath, stand up, walk to the door, open it, let out the ugly air from within me, and breathe some sweet fresh air. So we both just sat there.

Talk of relationship dynamics. Talk of tables being turned. I had topsy-turvied the guy like he wouldn't have imagined. By doing nothing, basically. In the world we live in, if one person out of two farts in a tiny enclosed room, then the non-farter automatically assumes all authority, and controls the other person. For life, perhaps. But definitely for a few weeks to come. I know as much!

Right after the deed had happened, he tried to hurriedly get started with some non-sensical discussion. Hoping perhaps, that a cognitive overload of too many things happening around me would push the fart out of my memory. Alas. It had been tattooed on my brain by then. But at least I found out that the ice can been broken...not just by the warmth, but by sound and smell as well.

I didn’t know that you’d be leavin’
Or who you thought you were talkin’ to
I figured maybe we’re even
Or maybe I’m one up on you
I sent you all my money
Just like I did before
I tried to reach you honey
But you’re driftin’ too far from the shore

I ain’t gonna get lost in this current
I don’t like playing cat and mouse
No gentleman likes making love to a servant
Especially when he’s in his father’s house
I never could guess your weight, baby
Never needed to call you my whore
I always thought you were straight, baby
But you’re driftin’ too far from the shore

Well these times and these tunnels are haunted
The bottom of the barrel is too
I waited years sometimes for what I wanted
Everybody can’t be as lucky as you
Never no more do I wonder
Why you don’t never play with me anymore
At any moment we could go under
’Cause you’re driftin’ too far from the shore

You and me we had completeness
I give you all of what I could provide
We weren’t on the wrong sides, sweetness
We were the wrong side
I’ve already ripped out the phones, honey
You can’t walk the streets in a war
I can't finish this alone honey
But you’re driftin’ too far from the shore

“Hey! What’s up? Long time! Like really long, huh?”
“Yea. More than 10 years!”
“Yea man. Good to meet you. Really.”

“Oh cool, you guys know each other?”

“Know! This guy is the biggest jerk ever.”
“Yea well, really sorry for all that dude.”
“Man! You were the biggest asshole, weren’t you.”
“I know. I was. But well, I’m sorry.”

“Ok. What the hell are you two talking about? Perpetual Wonderer, you want to tell me?”

“We went to school together. And were put together on the same bench, evidently because fate wanted to play a cruel joke on me. On us. I mean, look at us. Even today. We used to share a bench for 8 hours a day. For a good part of 5 years, was it?”
“Yea. It was a joke. But not a good one. To be sitting next to a complete asshole.”
“Come on dude. I understand. Not that it helps you any, but I am really sorry. If it makes you feel good, I’m in touch with hell and they tell me they are holding my place.”
“Yep. You are going to hell.”
“Look. It was a long time ago. I didn’t know what I was doing. I mean, there is only so much you can hold a 10 year old responsible for, right? I am not justifying, but you can’t forget that we were kids back then. There have always been cruel kids and sweet kids. Maybe if I had different parents or friends, things would be different. But 10 year olds acting all sensitive is an aberration, you know.”
“But I never understood why!”
“I can tell you why. But you need to understand that that’s what I thought back then. Ok?”
“So what was it?”
“You had to act like you were better than all of us. With your specs and everything. I sweetly asked you your name on the very first day, while the teacher was teaching. And you, snobbish you, had to act all irritated, turn around, and say ‘Ma’am is teaching something. I will tell you my name...later.’ Really? You could have just told me your name instead of saying all that. I decided you had to have it. Right then. And forever after that.”

“Wow PW, you were quite different as a kid, I can see.”

“Well, I was. You can ask the man here. But hey, I wasn’t a bad kid, really. Just a little mischievous. Some might even say cute. And I haven’t turned out all bad, right?”
“Yea. He was a horrible person. Like really awful. In fact I feel like I should kick him in the balls right now!”
“I guess if I could go back, I would do things somewhat differently.”
“You bet you would.”

I realized the conversation was going nowhere and it had no point anyway. The guy just wanted to vent and he was doing it. Anything I said was going to hold no value. No matter how hard I tried to communicate. It was like kissing the person you love on her forehead. You feel like you are communicating something very honest, deep, and soulful in that moment. Something that words are inadequate for. You hope the vibe gets through and she understands you through that kiss. But in the end you realize what it was. It was just saliva you left on someone’s forehead. And no one likes that. They say they do, in the moment. But actually, eventually, they don’t care. So I stopped putting any more proverbial saliva on the person’s forehead and just assumed that even this conversation, like the guilt, was not something I could wish away, after what had happened years ago.

Then, surprisingly enough, the guy just asked me for a sip of whatever alcohol I was drinking. I gave it to him and a few minutes later he piggybacked on some of my jokes and joined me in picking on some other random guy. For the rest of the night. Suddenly, the past didn’t matter. It was like we were 10 again. Only he was on my side this time.

Well…

"Don't be a fool," she told him.
"But doesn't it bother you?"
"Of course it bothers me when you are a fool."
"Your hair," he said.
"I think it's very pretty."
"Can it be pretty if no one thinks it's pretty?"
"I think it's very pretty."
"If you're the only one?"
"Thats pretty pretty."
"And what about the boys? Don't you want them to think you are pretty?"
"I wouldn't want a boy to think I was pretty unless it was a boy who thought I was pretty."
"I think it's pretty," he said. "I think it's very beautiful."
"Say it again, and I'll grow it long."
"I know" he laughed, kissing her forehead as he pinched her ears between his fingers.

Ballad of a Jackass - In your eyes

"I am here to work" said Johnny
His aim was to clear that test
And when they had burgers together
He thought he'd have a good friend at best
Their days were filled with laughter
On a terrace beneath blue skies
And though the thought did cross his mind
It was easier to deny those lies
She belonged to someone else
And he did't want to waste on her his tries
But somehow, and he hated to admit,
He kept seeing that glint in her eyes

Each day they'd meet,
And so lovely she'd treat,
Johnny inspite of everything
And he would shy away,
From letting her close and say,
"There's no happiness you can bring"

"Do you want me to get you lunch"
She once asked of him
But stone-set as his ideas were
He forced a face so grim
She yet persisted with her love
Even her mama baked him pies
And soon he found it hard to trash
That puppy love in her eyes

They say chemicals control us
And that probably is true
For Johnny began falling for her
Like he had fallen for less than few
"Let me just try feeling this"
He began thinking to himself
"And if it doesn't feel right
I'll just hive it on a shelf"
Ah, but right he did find her
Like salvation in disguise
He thanked his stars no end
For showing him that look in her eyes

His days were brighter
And his nights felt warm
Cuz it was working out for them
In every shape and form
She bought him gifts
He showed her his friends
Weekdays they were together
They were together weekends
All Johnny wanted to do now
Was to gleefully surmise
All the goodness in the world
With that one look in her eyes

Now he missed a slip of the lip
When summer turned to autumn
Sometimes when you are on top
You are really just close to the bottom
"I'll give what you always wanted"
Johnny kept saying in a loop
But he knew she wasn't in her own
'Cept when she was with her group
He suspected one chap from there
He cussed "It must be the car he drives"
But he hated himself right away
When she gave him that look in her eyes

Now she said off and on,
"I like you in every kinda way"
And though you can't fight compliments
Johnny felt a hint of gray
"Is there anything you wanna tell me?
Anything I should know?"
"Well there's nothing to talk of honey
Plus its late and you should go"
She batted her lashes to go with her words
A tool that only a sweet gal plies
"Oh, I beg your pardon then", Johnny said
"I thought I saw something in your eyes"

Then one day when the sun beat down
Like the inside of an oven
Johnny met her in the evening
The nail he sensed, had been driven
She said, "I'm gonna shake things here
I'd be better off with someone else"
"But we can work it out" he wept
"And didn't you owe me some warning bells"
"Now you have some nerve, don't you?
To assume we were built to last"
The indifference in her voice
Left him so aghast
"Yea, you are probably right"
Johnny mumbled, feeling thieved of his prize
"Obviously I should have double checked
That look I kept seeing in your eyes"

"But can we think this out some more?" he asked
"Before you start brandishing your knife
Why don't you think of all that we've shared
Ain't I a huge part of your life?"
"Please don't worry 'bout me", she said
"I've got the best kind of Alzheimer's"
She grinned at him and fished out
Her new key from an exotic purse
"And I hope our tryst has taught you something
I hope it has made you wise
Don't delve much into the way people smile
And never read the look in their eyes"

Hi Ajoba,

You have been dead for a year now. It is very strange to think of you this way. I don’t know if we were actually that close or if I just have a weird thing with dates. But I remember a lot about you. A lot of things you told me when I was a kid. I hope I never forget you.

So how are things there? Are you feeling better there than here? I hope you are happier. Do you see us from there? Are you able to read this blog now? If you are, I would love for you to come and tell me how things are wherever you are. I wonder about that quite often.

If you are wondering about how things are here, well they are pretty much the same. Nothing much changes here, does it? I am more or less the same. Just been spending way too much money, that I don’t have, on stuff I don’t need. I know, I know, “It does not befit a super smart Finance graduate like you”, you must be saying. :) But well, I guess I suck as that too then! Baaki, things are the same here. Sachin has been playing well. Just the way he was when you could watch him. Mom and Dad continue to fight, yell and get mad at each other all day, everyday. Sometimes, in a tremendously damaged way, it’s cute how they just suddenly stop their arguments instantly when their lame ass soaps come on TV. I am beginning to think they may even love each other. Mom still misses you. The other day, she told me “Today was the last day baba and I had a proper chat.” I could see she wanted to cry. I miss you too. Did you see the way I snapped at that whatshisname annoying, fake, far-away uncle at your funeral? The one I have never liked. While it was raining cats and dogs, that jackass said to me, “Well, its raining so hard, that after a few years, when we think of this day, we will think Ajoba died in June.” “No you moron”, I said. “We will always remember it was November. You can remember this as June or April or May, for all I care.”

So, I think that’s all I am going to say for now. I really wish you are doing well, wherever you are. If the place you are in is good, then good for you. If it’s not, then don’t worry, it cannot be much worse than this hellhole we are living in. I have so many more stories that I want to tell you, some happy, some sad. But I will remember them and tell them to you, once we meet.

Happy Diwali.