And it rains..

Am so glad, finally the bestest of the best season has started : The Monsoon. "The Delhi Monsoon". As lovely as it can be. Today, at around 3:30 pm, I witnessed the God's best creation again. One creation that I never stop enjoying, that never makes me get bored out of it, that never stops stealing my senses & heart. Yes, the rains.

Having missed three last rains cos of my sleeping modes all time (it's holidays and one shall never find me doing anything other than sleeping, trust me), I just had to catch this one.

And the weather takes a twirl. The best thing about rain is it gets followed by winds, strong winds sometimes.

The same wind blows my hair. The leaves starts dancing, the flowers starts singing and the swings (in the front park) starts swinging without any help (actually with wind's help). Its the best picture I have ever witnessed. God's himself an artist, I must say. I look up towards the beautiful blue-cum-orange sky as it smiles at me. I pass a smile back. And so, its first drop kiss my forehead. The second fell on my nose, it tickles. The third one kiss my lips. It reminds me of my first kiss I had in the childhood. Indeed yes, a kiss by nature to me.

Alas! It starts. Followed by a roar of the candy floss shaped clouds. The roar, more stronger than the lion. I start catching as many drops dripping over me as I can with my arms open, hands ready to aggregate them all. It grew stronger and I had a thought of going back inside. Until, the wind blows stronger into my ear. Seems like the wind talks to me, "don't go", it speaks. "Spend some more time here, like you did during your childhood", it continued. I smiled back and stood there. Stood there as a little girl ready to dance off her feet. Stood there as a little girl ready to sing in melody with the cloud's roar. Stood there as a little girl with all remembrances of childhood. Stood there as a little girl with no worries and sorrows. 

Some people remember their past lives or good times in rain. Some people like to cry in rain, as the tears become invisible. Some people imagine themselves with their lovers, holding hands and walking in the rain. I do not do any of these. I just get affixed to me, to my childlikeness, to my beautiful infant dreams, to the most innocent little girl I ever met - "me".

I can dance alone in the rains, I need no companion. The rain is my partner in each form of dance. I have driven bicycles with rain, fallen in mud (draped all over with that), jumped into frog's ponds, caught many earthworms, destroyed ant's houses (yes, I did that), bathed even wearing my party dress and just made hairstyle, for the occasion in next five minutes (I had to find an alternative to the dress resulting in my delay at my own family function), made paper boats, kept all the buckets and containers in order to do rain water harvesting (was taught in fifth standard), literally tried to kiss the rain, sat on the inverted umbrella and drifted on the water logged in the society during heavy rains (I got childed for breaking mum's favorite lily-flowery umbrella). I have done that all. All in childhood. I wonder why I don't do any of it now. Why am I so lost in my daily routines, situations, with people, sometimes even lost myself. Why am I so doomed? 

None-the-less, I look around. Well, my mother enjoys rain in her own style. She starts keeping the chappals in the rain, the plastic container, inverts the buckets, and a plastic pipe (dripped in mud of plant pots), so that her burden of washing them away could be lessened. She looks at me, and I couldn't resist my laugh at her. "What? The rain is doing it for me", she says. I laugh more. And she even laughs with me, while she pushes the plant pots (usually kept inside the home or under the shed of the balcony) into the open side, so that the rain directly falls onto them. Smart women! 

The rains has stopped now. Even though, I am not enjoying the rains as I used to do during my infantile days. 

Over and above, the rain still holds an alike slot as it did during yesteryears.

 My companion since babyhood. My first love with whom I had my first kiss. My inspiration.

Have you ever thought what designation rains play in your lives?

Te amo

A glint of hope in the field of poetry. My first ever poem (that too in Hindi). Came out in just flat fifteen minutes in yester night. Trust me, the mind works at triple pace at nights. That too when you miss someone's presence, no wonder if its some being in your life or its you who feel buried deep down within in the depths of mystical feelings. Its a remarkable production of my illusionary mind. Ergo, when you lose yourself, in my case, some artistry arises, in the shape of writings or paintings. For the first time its molded in the form of a poem. Here I go.



Kuch ho na ho
par tum zaroor pass ho
Ek ajeeb sa ehsaas
Ehsaas jo sirf tumse hi ata hai
Tumhara ek baar chu jana pyaar se
Wo muskurana pyaar se
Wo hath pakadna aur bas keh dena 'sab theek ho jayega'
Wo ghanto tak takti mujhe nigahein tumhari
Wo halaki si nami un aankho mein
Wo khamoshi si tumhari baaton mein
Wo justju tumhari, wo masumiyat tumhari
Wo saamne saamne has dena tumhara
Aur mere jate hi kone mein wo ro dena tumhara
Wo barsaat ki kuch yaadein
Wo kuch ladaiyan
Aur harr ladai ke baad gale lagana tumhara
Tumhara wo hath pakadkar khali sadak pe sath dena
Tumhara chup chap mere liye sab sehte jana
Wo tumara mere liye duniya se ladd jana
Shayad hai ye bachpana hi tumhara
Par sach ye hai tumhare bachpane ne hi seencha hai mujhe
Shayad tum sagar ho muhobbat ka
Par sach ye hai doobne main mujhe bhi aaram milega
Shayad tum samjhoge nahi mera pyaar
Par sach ye hai main bhi nahi samajh paungi tumhari chahat ko
Shayad sath hamara zindagi bhar nahi rahega
Par sach hai tumhara aasra zaruur rahega

Shayad ye sab tumhe hi aata hai

Par sach hai sab sirf aur sirf tumhara hi hai

Shayad tum ro doge khushi ke aansu ye padhkar
Par sach ye hai sab sirf tumhari wo halaki si muskaan pane ke liye kiya
Yaad hai jab maine tumse kaha tha
'Kaash hum rahein sath hamesha'
Aur tumne mujhpe nigahein gadate huye kaha tha
'Ye kaash hi toh hai jo harr waqt tarsaata hai mujhe, 
Kaash ye kaash na hota toh aaj main thoda jee liya hota'....


Darr dono ko hi hai bahut
par parvaah mujhe nahi
Kyunki ye baat ab dil-o-dimaag mein utar chuki hai
Kuch aur ho na ho
par tum zaroor pass ho
Kuch aur ho na ho
par tum zaroor sath ho.....

Chapter 4 : Love

The picture starts becoming clearer & clearer by now. Jenny had moved on from her first love. The love that had its ruins and residue left for over two years. Its all washed away.

Jenny decided to live the life now; for herself .

She'd spend time with herself. She made good friends, and a few best friends, indeed the people whom she needed a lot in the past few years. The people that she desperately wanted were the ones around her, instead of the ones whom she would look out for outside the world. Her temperament changed a lot. 

Jenny grew by this time.

Yet, she didn't want any more "guy" to make her mushy and fall deeper in love. 

All she knew was, she took out time for herself. Knew herself. The spiritual processes began which went on for an year or so. She'd never get bored of herself. She could sit hours all alone. The seclusion wouldn't eat her after all. 

She grew stronger in academics, spend more time with the people around her. 

All this while, she knew what she wanted to do - Live. 

And what she didn't want to do - Love

But, Love happens when you least expect it. 

Jenny was eighteen now. 

Young, charming, at the peek of womanhood.

That's when she met the Prince of her life. He tried & tried to woo her. But, nothing could transit her decision of not falling in Love.

Aghast! she did fell in the crater of it, the disease that even spread through eyes. 

That's when she met the Prince. 

None-the-less, it didn't work out. When Jenny gave implausible reasons and ran out! Even though she did Love him. 

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't Live. She couldn't Love herself.

All Jenny wanted was some more time maybe.

She left the Prince and her magical land. 

She ran into the dark woods. 

But yet, she knew, every night ends with a beautiful morning sun. That's what kept her alive. That's what kept her walking. 

After a few months, she came out of the woods. The world was magnificent out there. The Greenness made her feel alive. The flowers blooming & blossoming gave her magical powers. The sun rays hitting her beautiful white face gave her an unique glow. The spiritual process was over. 

Now, she knew what she wanted.

She wanted the Prince back! 

"Wait! But that's impossible now, I have moved into some other world and I cannot leave this here", Jenny thinks. 

"Is there any other way that I get back to Prince and even live this astonishing life", Jenny asked herself. 

"Why not?" Jenny looked around. Who said that? And she knew it was a voice from deep down.

She ran back to find Prince. To invite him to this wonderland of wonders. She wanted to live into "Nirvana" with him. 

She ran, and stumbled into him. He stood there, not saying a word. 

She told him about this feeling of utter happiness, the land that ended all her troubles. The land where her spiritual journey had ended. 

But the question was, "Will Prince accept her again?"

He didn't talk to her.

"I can't be back", cries the Prince. "You've left me into the unwanted crater of anger & pain", he continues. "You left me for no reason, now am leaving".

"No, you can't," says Jenny. 

"You just can't, I know what my problem was. I left you cos, I didn't Loved myself completely. In order to Love someone, you must Love yourself. In order to know someone, you must know yourself first. And now, when I deep down have encountered all my troubles. I know, I do Love you", she ended waiting for him to say something.

It followed with a silence. The same silence she had listened to when she proposed her feelings to her first love after two years. But, no, she didn't want this to end like that did. 

This was her last lair to Love.

"I want you back so baldy", she pleaded.

But, love never works with force and pleads and begs. She knew.

"I wouldn't force you, if you do feel for me, I'll be waiting", Jenny cleared and walked away.

She gave a final glance at him. Hoping she would have more glances at him. 

She walked. 

But, oh! her beautiful hazy eyes, made the Prince fall.. again.

"Wait". Jenny heard the voice from behind her back. It was the Prince's

"Don't you know its ominous to stop someone who's going", she said with a tilted side smile. 

"As if am letting you go", the Prince said.

She turned and leaps into his arms. Their magnificent first kiss follows.

"So, you Love yourself now, huh?', asks the Prince. 

"Yes, I do", says Jenny twirling her eyes and giving a shrug. 

"Good Lord! I have a competition with you?" says the Prince with a smirk. 

The both laughed and lived together till eternity in the land of "Nirvana".

Chapter 3 : Liberation

She didn't pick his calls. What would she say? What would they talk about? It was such a blurred picture. She couldn't help, but resist his calls.
Five calls, all missed by her.
He was the first prince, who made her feel like a princess. She was no longer a girl next door. She wasn't ordinary. Did she even tried to fill the void of her first love through him?
"No", would say Jenny.

All this happened in June 2009.

"It's getting out of my hand now, I need to confront my love for him now", says Jenny to her best friend.
"I think he already knows, that's why you were in a relation with him.. well for just a month.. that's a different case", she says.
"I just want to admit it to him. I can't move on. Its been two damn years, I am just filling his space through other guys. I can't do this anymore, leaving such a devastation behind", says Jenny.
"What do you wanna do now?", she asks.
"I'l tell him I still love him", Jenny says.
"And how will it help?" her best friend asks.
"I don't know, but all I know is I'll be liberated. I want that freedom. If he accepts me, its good. If not, its still fine", continues Jenny.
"Will you move on after that?", asks her friend.
"Am sure I will", Jenny ended the conversation.

She called him. He picked up. It all started with normal conversation. He throwing jokes as always, which Jenny loved always. His voice, so magical and mysterious, which she couldn't ever resist. It all went through. Until, she hauled.
"I wanna say something", Jenny said, stopping his jokes.
He was still laughing on his jokes, and he stopped, laughingly he said, "Ya, go on".
"I don't know how to begin. Its just that.... ", Jenny stammered.
"Go on naa. Just say what you want", that's when Jenny thought he knows what she was up to. Yes, he knew,  after all he was the one who could make exact guesses, none wrong. He was the one could would just sway her away with his "Hi".

"I think I still LOVE YOU", all of a sudden.

A silence followed.
That was the first time he was silent.
"Say something dumbo", she said.
"I don't know what to say. Jenny, you know I don't. Its been two years, I thought you'd moved on", he said.
"No, I couldn't. I mean I wanted.. but I couldn't", Jenny said.
"Girl, you had two more guys in your life, what was that for?', he asked.
"I just tried to find "you" in them, I couldn't", she said.
"Hmm...", he said.
"What hmm..? Throw me a reply?", she asked desperately.
"I don't love you Jenny. I don't. You know this thing. I can't. We are good as friends Jenny. Lets be best friends", he said.
"I was inclined towards you. Just said if by chance you also have some inclination towards me. Chuck it, I can't be friends with you for sure. Its been two years and four months, I wanna move on. All this time I was just looking for love.. for something that only reminded me of you. But, I can never force you to feel for me. Its okay. Not your fault. But, we'll be in touch if you want. Not best friends, not even good ones. Just mare friends", Jenny ended.
"Whatever keeps you happy Jenny. I'll be happy as far as you are", he said smilingly on other side of the phone. The smile that could kill millions.
They exchanged byes and take cares.
She kept down the phone.
Its ended.
Its all ended.
It was 12:12am.
The best time of her life.
She sat on the bed. She murmured to herself.
"I just did something that I wanted to since past two years", she said.
It was the feeling which cannot be described.
Now she knew what India would have felt after being freed from Britishers.
Yes, she thought she had done something for which she must be rewarded with some medal of honor or trophy of bravery.
"I can no longer feel any more 'him' in my veins. Its all gone, all washed away, with just one call. Oh God!!! I should have done this long time back if I'd known it was this easy. None-the-less, I have done it", she said.
Even if he, has rejected her proposal, it was all fair.
The happiness of rejection was at such a par, that if she would have been accepted, then also she wouldn't have felt was she was feeling then.
It was LIBERATION. Liberation from all the pains. Liberation from making regular efforts of coming under his eyes. Liberation of endless sleepless nights.
"Now, I wont find 'him' in other guys. Rather, I don't need any guy", she said.
She felt a different kind of love then, something she felt for the first time.
It was LOVE for herself.

The intertwining of God and Him

A true inspiration for all.
R.I.P Hussain. 

It was my friend's post which brought me to the fact that he is no more. Trust me, social networking sites can be beneficial sometimes. In shock, outraged, antagonized, I start thinking deep down of him. 
He was the man! He was M F Hussain. An out of the world painter, artist indescribable, awarded both Padma Shri and Padma Bhushan as well as Padma Vibhushan. Film director, producer, as well as a poet. Then follows my second thought, how he was thrown out of his own land. Reason: he portrayed some sacred Hindu Goddesses in non-acceptable avatars. Was exile its remedy? He was disrespected as he was a Muslim. What the so-called- religious groups saw was a Muslim outraging Hinduism. Even though, that's their mentality. For a man with so much love in his heart, a man born even before the revolts of independence started in the blood of Indian's, a man with compassion and no impure thoughts in his mind and soul to outcast another religion, it is impossible to hurt the sentiments of anyone. In fact, a painter is considered as having given a god gift, he is the person with most soothing soul, the only field which has always been respected the most since 500 BC. 
Anyway, am not here to justify what was wrong, what was right, for I will hurt his soul more. Am just here to forecast his life, how he lived and what he lived for. A few facts which general people do not know. 


I remembrance very well, I was in seventh standard, where we had a unit of M F Hussain, his life : From where he was, till where he is. He was still in India till then, else the unit would have been dislodged. These are the extracts:




"A self-taught artist, Muqbool Fida Hussain was born in 1915 in Maharashtra. His mother died when he was one and a half years old and his father married again. At an early age he learnt the art of calligraphy and practiced the Kulfic khat with its geometric forms. He also learnt to write poetry while staying with an uncle in a madrasa in Baroda, an art that has stayed with him through his life. His early education was perfunctory but Hussain's love of drawing was evident even at this stage. Whenever he got a chance he would strap his painting gear to his bicycle and drive out to the surrounding countryside of Indore to paint the landscape. In 1937 he reached Mumbai determined to become an artist, with hardly any money and lived in a cheap room. Initially Hussain apprenticed himself to a painter of cinema hoardings which he would paint with great dexterity perched on scaffolding sometimes in the middle of traffic, earning very little to afford his living in Mumbai. But, that didn't stop him from living his dreams. 
Hussain was noticed for the first time in 1947 when he won an award at the annual exhibition of the Bombay Art Society. Subsequently he was invited by Souza to join the Progressive Artist's Group. A great deal of experimentation in the early years led to some remarkable works Re Between The Spider And The Lamp, Zameen and Man. By 1955 he was one of the leading artists in India and had been awarded the Padma Shri. He was a special invitee along with Pablo Picasso at the Sao Paulo Biennial in 1971. Along with several solo exhibitions he had major retrospectives in Mumbai in 1969, in Calcutta in 1973 and in Delhi in 1978. He has participated in many international shows which include Contemporary Indian Art, Royal Academy of Arts, London 1982; Six Indian Painters, Tate Gallery, London 1985; Modem Indian Painting, Hirschhom Museum, Washington 1986 and Contemporary Indian Art, Grey Art Gallery, New York 1986.
In 1967 he won the Golden Bear at the International Film Festival at Berlin for his documentary Through the Eyes of a Painter and has made several short films since then. Hussain was awarded the Padma Bhushan in 1973, the Padma Vibhushan in 1989 and was nominated to the Rajya Sabha in 1986. One of the most charismatic artists in India today, he is known for his emphatic understanding of the human situation and his speedy evocation of it in paint. The early evolution of his painterly language was overtaken by adventurous forays into installations and performance art. His experimentations with new forms of art are both unexpected and pioneering.
Hussain has studios in several cities in India but lives mainly in Mumbai."


Called the "Picasso of India" by Forbes Magazine, he was a man completely down to Earth. Even though his paintings would fetch him millions of dollars, his lifestyle was yet the same as before. 
At Dubai, where he had spent his many years of life, he was frequently spotted coming out of local cinema halls after watching latest Bollywood flicks. 

"I remember meeting the grand old man walking out of a cinema theatre. He gleamed like a teenager. I don't remember the movie but it was definitely a Hindi potboiler. That defined the man," said Raghav, a Dubai resident.

Hussain always interacted with common men on the streets, a habit he did not desert here.

"I think his best moment in Dubai came in November 2007 when he booked the entire tickets of a local cinema hall screening Madhuri Dixit's comeback film Aaja Nachle," said Ayesha, a Sharjah resident.

On this occasion, Husain booked 194 seats for the movie as a treat for his special guests from all walks of life. He distributed tickets as invitations on which the veteran painter's autograph and a sketch of Madhuri was
inscribed. The artist was known to be a great fan of the actress, whom he also cast in his film 'Gaja Gamini'. Hussain also held several private exhibitions during his stay here. He came to Dubai to work on the history of Arab civilisation.

True to the man himself, all his mannerisms were unique.

Even his apartment looked like an Arab majlis, a tent like structure where he used fabric instead of his own paintings. A round carpet in his studio was uniquely laid out half on the ground and half up the wall. He had on display paintings that he once sold for Rs 100-150.

Husain's last visit to his hometown was in 1995, when he received the 'Pandhari Bhushan' Puraskar instituted by a local organisation. Tears well up in the eyes of 86-year old Khudabuddin Sharifoddin, cousin of M F Husain, as he remembers his association with the iconic artist, who spent his formative years in this town in Pandharpur, western Maharashtra. 
"He asked me how did his mother, my mother's sister, look like as he had lost her at an early age. He asked me where was the 'kabr' (resting place) of his mother located," he said, talking to reporters at his house at Kalikadevi Chowk, in the vicinity of the famous Vitthal temple, which attracts lakhs of devotees.

Then, to the delight of the nearly 10,000 people who crowded to watch him exhibit his deft strokes, Husain drew a sketch of a beautiful woman, in 10 minutes flat, on a bull!

Not difficult to guess that the drawing was of his muse -- Bollywood's then reigning queen Madhuri Dixit. For days, the locals paraded the bull around the town.
A local painter S Pataskar, recalled Husain's last visit here. "It was as if Pandharpur had come to a standstill.
Around 10,000 people gathered to see the master at work. Husain mingled freely, shook hands with people and spoke in chaste Marathi."

After receiving the award, Husain went to Vithal-Rukmai temple and had a "darshan" of the deity. 
He died in London this year, at the age of 95, where he longed to smell the soil of his country.

One can love MF Hussain or one can hate MF Hussain but one cannot ignore him. Here are a few paintings of him, which eventually are my all time favorites. 

He painted all bare-foot, as he worshiped his work.

Love

Blue head 

Mother Teresa- his inspiration

His favorite animal- Horse 

Poornima

Indian Mythology

Chapter 2 : Why can't we just Rewind?

There she sits. Wondering what went wrong when the picture seemed unclear. It was raining heavily. The rain drops were falling on the window panes like melted silver. She went outside. Surrounded by storms. Losing her senses, she had a glimpse of the past.

The tape gets rewind by three years by now. It seemed like all the pictures started flashing in front of her eyes like some power point slide show. Intricate life began.. again. The wounds started bleeding ... again.

LOVE STORY - I

Jenny was fifteen. Then came the first guy she met. The first love. Somewhat she had always seen in movies. Jenny was immensely drowned, besotted in love. He was her best friend, until she knew she felt something for him.... something strange, unusual, in a good sense though... in the best sense maybe. Jenny was young and charming. She had always been beautiful, would say her mother. That was Friday evening, when he called. She picked up.
"I think I feel something for you", he said.
"Like what", said Jenny. Wondering if he would say what she had always fancied.
That was the first time, when Jenny's insane heart skipped a beat. She wanted to tell him so since ages, but never did. "He's a guy, let him make the first move", would say her friends.
She waited, until he said those three awe-inspiring words.
Jenny almost fainted. She pinched herself, wondering if it's just one of her regular dreams she used to have at nights. THIS IS IT!
The romance began. But, it didn't last for more than a month.
"I think we are good as friends", he would say.
"I was just baffled", he continues, "Are we still friends?", he says doubtingly.
"Asking for friendship after the break up, is like watching your dog die and you ask your mom 'can we still keep it'", says Jenny. Her innocence was murdered there and then. She thought of never calling him again, but the void was huge. Jenny was so indispensable of him.

The rain was growing stronger & stronger. She still stood there.

LOVE STORY- II

After one month, came another guy. Jenny didn't feel for him. He was three years elder to her. She knew there was something missing, the void is left to be filled.
"Would this be right? Shall I say yes", she said in a monotonous tone.
Poor Jenny, was too young for this. Confused, caught in the briny, beleaguered, a startled bird not even ready to fly; she said yes.
After seven months, the guy left her. Giving ludicrous, preposterous reasons for leaving her. But, she handled it all. Jenny was courageous though, had always been. Jenny never saw him again.
At the end of the day, what she figured out was, she still couldn't fill the void of her first love.
The vacuum was still there.

The rain now started falling a little slantingly, rushing with wind blowing.

LOVE STORY-III

Jenny turned sixteen. After three months and seven days post of her previous heartbreak warfare, she met another guy. Jenny had been his first love, first childhood crush. They were in the same school, and had his heart at her feet since past four and a half years. Jenny never cared.
After two continuous break-ups, she wanted to swim out of the depression. Aloof of love. All she needed was friends. She got none. Until she met him. He seemed nice, very nice, with no wrong intentions.

Each time she would try to swim out, something would pull her inside. When she had been almost out, she slipped again... stupid Jenny... fell for her guy, whom she never felt for.
Poor poor Jenny, just tried relentlessly to fill the void of her first love. She meant no harm to any. But, she left many lives destroyed.
After a month and sixteen days later, she left him. He was subtle, sober and too good to be done bad. Jenny didn't want to do him any bad. She left him for his own good. He "deserved" someone better.

The rain stopped suddenly. The time travelling was over. Jenny came back to the present. She went inside.. to prepare coffee, which she was the best at. The atmosphere seemed indescribable. Just as the nature was at peace after what the strong rain had brought it the subjugation. There seemed a similarity between Jenny and the nature.
Consoling herself, she sips the coffee. But another greatest part of the puzzle was left: her fourth "Love"- The first Prince of her life who made her believe she is a princess. LOVE STORY -IV, the so-called- last love of her life.
She realizes before that, there isn't any sugar in the cup. She went to take more. Then, something summons in her mind. She had forgot to stir the sugar left untouched at the bottom. "Maybe the love am looking for is deep down,  within me, than peeking each time outside. All I need, is to invigorate myself".
Before she could take another sip, her phone rang. She froze. Her cup almost fell off her hands. Her eyes didn't blink.
It was him......