Blocked

I met a man , I met a man
At the cold storage in a blue blue can
the frozen ice decided to melt
giving sight to the cold old man

I was dressed in shimmering yellow,
my presence , I know, melted
cold ice in his four-pipe

Off my mirth,
I saw him warming hands at the fireplace,
so close was his touch, it brought me closer

He of icy demeanor, me of fiery touch
firefly like in the ruined winter castle
except shabby corners, no place could I find

In my search for fire, I forgot what ice thought,
But ice thought, ice thought to leave
shook off the firefly, rattled some hints

Returned to the cold storage never to look back again.

- Subha Ramachandran

Yeh Sunday kya cheez hoti hain?

I was thinking this sunday, while lying on my bed facing the bedroom window, staring at the host of crows seated atop a branch on the jamun tree, curling my curly hair with the forefinger of my right hand, when I suddenly realised 'What if , we never had a sunday'?

I know , for millions, sunday doesnt make a stinking difference, but it does, for me. Coutesy: Joblessness.

What better day to think of Sunday's importance in our lives than on a sunday? Hain na?

My fondest memories of sundays are from my childhood (Usually the words 'fond' and 'fondle' , somehow, find their ways in to our childhood). Till my fourth grade my sundays were quite family-oriented. I would be up by say 8 - 8 :30 and wait for my father to get hot jalebi, khandvi, dhokla and spicy vada pav from the jalaram farsan mart and Azad hind dairy. Mom , dad and I would have a longish break fast till 10:00 with Mahabharata , Sri Krishna, Chandrakanta etc playing on DD. After which would follow a long paper reading session, sunday papers, something I still relish on. Then lunch and some film on surya, star movies and then for an afternoon nap. I hated sunday evening because I had nothing much to do. We still follow this tradition, its lotsa fun.

Actually, Iwanted this post to be silly and funny but am unable to pull words together. I feel very emotional , thinking of this sunday tradition and thinking of what would happen tomorrow when there wont be a 'us' to celebrate it.

Der aayein par durust aayein (yahi hai na?)

Ya ya I know. I have been playing hide and seek with you for a long time. The other day I saw someone dressed in a strange attire standing outside the Mulund police station, all angry, like the Daya from CID. Just that this fellow /thing looked rather confused to flaunt its strength. I went closer to get an exact look and was startled to find a black and white xerox copy of what looked like a A3 size photo of , well, the world famous, super intelligent, Oh-so-good looking- Subha Ramachandran. (Thats me, btw!)

I ran, I did, I did in my new Raw Hide sandals, which according to my married friend resembles her four year old daughter's playschool shoes. Thanks huh, so much for buying Raw Hide!

Ya, so I ran and caught him /it by his shoulder and asked in my broken marathi 'Kay re, Majha fotu gheyon ekde police station chya samor kay kartos? Tu kaun re?' and what you read next will shock the hell outta you! This chap/ thing didnt understand marathi?!?! Ha! He looked at me with a "Waat?' expression on his face and replied in english 'Wat you talking about'?

Fraction of a second: this thing holds me by my arms and starts weeping and says 'Where have you been all this while?, I missed you so much.
Su: Who are you? Take your hands off me!
Thing: Its me. Me. ME.
Su: Ain? Kaun hai yaar tu?
Thing: I am your blog!

Remember the feeling, when you had dropped ink on your dad's important papers (by mistake , of course!) and he confronts everyone in the house asking for 'the person' and you trying your best to busy youself in studying want to simply melt in you shoes and evaporate in thin air? Yes, I felt something similar. My blog came searching for me when I didnt turn up at its door for more than a month. A silent wind of guilt embraced me and I just stared back.

My blog had decided to post a 'WANTED' on my name just to find me. It thought I got lost somewhere. I did, but I have come back. These months have not been too kind to me. People asked me to get out of their lives and vice-versa. But , I have finally found my way back. And I am here to stay.

So, Hi ! I am back. Btw, Dear bloggy , the next time I go missing like this, for whatever reason that may be, instead of searching at the police station, I suggest you try finding me at the nearest Monginis stores. Usually the owner knows me. Curly hair, eats chicken pattice/spicy chicken puff and Sacher with choco chips. You will find me.

Forever yours,
Subha


Afternote/Prayer to god : Thank god I found this thing on the road before Raj Thackeray's men could !