R(a/e)ining Whispers...

I've now started to become someone who spends more time writing what I would like to do rather than what I actually say and do. There are times when I think I’m more matured than my age, but there are times when I just glide in my reveries.

I was always hemmed in by silence, and caroused in it. For me, silence was and is, never deafening. With the silence emanated voluminous thoughts.

I always had a penchant for Rains. Oh how virile it was! The droplets, ever so small, still able to wash away all the pains from the heart… cool enough to quench the hot fire of our souls..

I was committed to it from a very young age. One and all who knew me always teased about my addiction to it! They knew that when I make a commitment, I stick to it like glue. When I was a child, it would sneak in through the windows, would kiss my nose tips which would be protruding out through the panes. Sometimes I stick my tongue out and savour it. In my adolescence, it used to come impromptu, clasp me from behind, saturating, oblivious of the inquisitive onlookers. There were never any constraints. When it came, I used to go out with it, hand in hand. I’ve always welcomed it with a deep yearning. Sometimes it came with such a fury and hunger and took me in one single sweep. It fell on me rhythmically, each in anticipation of the next, creating a beautiful symphony.

Every now and then rains kiss me at nights while the world is in slumber. It would venture out from its hidey-hole, hisses through the open windows and wakes me up. It embraces me with its robust arms, enveloping me with soft sweet kisses. It was like a kiss on a dry parched piece of earth. It whispers sweetly in my ears as it trickles down… melting against my skin. I would close my eyes and relish the drops... as it strips me… feels me… deflowers me… And then, the distant rumblings! I dare not open my eyes, or else the dream might shatter… that I was alone with my memories.

Does rain have any smell? Does it smell of a man's aftershave? A cologne? A cigarette?

Do I love anything more than a long walk in the rain?

Ageing Whispers....

I am an offspring of the seventies. A couple of years, and I will be embarking on the naughty forties! No, I am not lamenting. Actually I am excited. Can't wait to get naughty. Chronologically I am 30+(a big plus). Somebody told me I'll be middle-aged soon. Personally I think I have just lived a quarter of my life. So still time to cross that threshold. I live my life vicariously. I look 40 something, act 30 something, and live like 20 something. It is all in the mind. If you feel you are old, you ARE old.. If not, you are not.

Two score years ago, 50s were considered as well past middle age, and 60s getting really old. And 70s... oh my!! They were the oldest.. But now, 60 is the step stone to middle age.. till then you are young! 60 to 80 middleaged, and afer 80, you slowly start to get old.. I feel old age is always 25 years away from you.

Last month, I had a lunch with my professor. I was concentrating on the juicy beef when suddenly she exclaimed "I can't believe you people came out from the college 15 years ago". Oh man! That was an instant fill to my empty howling tummy. 15 years? I had thought that it was only 4 or 5 years since we left university. Now, that made me feel a bit.. a wee bit.. a teeny weeny bit.. old. It's really funny. When I was a teenager, I had really felt more matured. But after 30, I keep forgetting that I've left my twenties behind. Filling 0ut forms is always a little tricky. I have a hard time remembering and calculating how old I am! They should actually put two columns there... mental age and chronological. I bet no one would want to fill the chronological column.

Why should these numbers decide how we feel? It should be like Mark Twain said: "Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter."

A heart that loves is always young!!!

What's in a name, after all?

His parents mustered on one side. My folks marshalled on the other. The debate was getting hotter. The topic? Well.. What to name my firstborn!!

Hey comeon! It's my son, after all. And I wanted to name him Nikhanj, since at that time Kapil Dev was the epitome of my handsomeness. (I swear, there IS such a word!) But none could utter the name by the book, and it had to be gulped back as soon as it sprang out of my mouth. Then I implied on Rhett. It is single syllabled, uncomplicated.. I am a hardcore fan of Gone With The Wind. All I got was some glaring and sneering stares. I had another choices too, like Rochester or Darcy or even Chicken George. But I didnt dare to voice it. They were looking at me as if I'm bizarre!

The clock was running in marathon pace, and the visitants were flowing in. Still we were not able to get any near to a decision. The name should start with "M".. proposed his folks. Most of their names were starting with "M". But then ALL our names were starting with "S". So it should start with "S", advocated mine. His and Mine were making Ours strenuous. One squad's proposal were opposed by the other.

The time had come. The lamp was lit. Now no more musings. I had to come up with some name.. I was in a Catch-22 situation. "What about Rahul", a cousin, eyeing my dilemma, hinted. My mom, being a Rajiv Gandhi fan, and my father-in-law, being a pakka congressman, didn't have to think twice. We were all given the same choice.. YES or YES??

Thus the name Rahul was bestowed upon the little one. Little did we realise that this name is going to be the most popular in Bollywood. Every month one or two movies are released with Rahul as the hero. Now when our hero asks us why such a generic name was given to him, I just sigh.. How refined my Nikhanj would have been.... Nevertheless I attain solace in the bard's lines.. What's there in a name!! But.... It IS elementary, my dear......!!!!!