Who is the other? Part two

Part 1 Reference: http://kpayal.blogspot.com/2007/08/who-is-other.html

“I was expected to have a Muslim guy in my fantasies and imagination too,” she said while chatting with her old friend. A decade had passed or so it seemed since the time she willingly nailed the coffin of her heart for a lover, a Hindu lover. The romance started like a whiff of air which took her with it before she could even comprehend what happened. When it all settled, she found herself miserably alone as her parents made her believe that they will die if she even thinks about it.

“But how could you just accept it?” asked the friend. There was a slight lull...She got up to refill the coffee mugs with black coffee and to light a smoke, she twitched a bit. “There is nothing I could do. It’s not their fault. They always told me that this is how it is. They told me to hunt for a Muslim boy.” “Hunt for a Muslim boy!” the friend said sarcastically. “Yes,”she replied.

She looked out of the window of her thirteenth floor apartment in Mumbai where she stayed alone. Her beautiful black hair was covering a bit of her fair marble face. She finally tied it in a bun and gazed outside again. “So is it over?” asked the friend...she looked at her, smiled and lowered her eyes and then looked out of the window again.

“Why don’t you stay for dinner?” she said after few moments. “Sure, I would love to.” They went to the kitchen. She took some potatoes and began peeling them. “I often wished he was a Muslim.” “Didn’t you ever with that you were not a Muslim?” said the friend. "We have been made not to think like that ever,” she said. “But I am sure you can think like that,” said the exasperated friend.

Her hair had opened again as she busied herself in the kitchen chores. Her friend watched her intently as she prepared the curry. “Can I pour some wine for you?” she asked. The friend said, “I remember that drinking was against your religion”. “Haha.. yes...but it is not against your religion”. The friend finally broke her stupor and smiled.

“So what next?” asked the friend again assuming the tone of finality and sombreness. “Mother wants me to get married by early next year. She often asks me to see some or the other guy in Mumbai. So hopefully, I will be married to a rich Muslim guy by next year,” she smiled as she served the food on the dining table.

She cleared the last bit in the kitchen as her friend announced that she was ready to leave. “Whose photograph is that?” the friend asked as they reached the living room. “I am seeing him currently.”

“Are you in love again?” she asked.
“Looks like it”

The friend had an expression of a lover who is made to drink poison to prove his love.
“Muslim?”
“No.”

Friend, Coffee

She said he would join us soon,
I thought right now I just needed a friend and not her goddamn lover;
There seemed an abyss ahead.
I thought a cuppa coffee with a "good old friend" would take me to some light,
I would walk the dim lit roads knowing I am heading somewhere.
Here I am sitting right where I was...
On a huge stack of Nothing.
Anyways,
A sea side walk might be a good substitute.

The skies were clear, just a little gloomy.
The night was waiting to seep in,
Looking beyond the sky to reach my heart.
The wine went through my lips all the way to my senses....it felt beautiful.
It was a perfect setting.
I was right between the moonlit sky and the green moist earth....
The sky was coming down gradually...
I thought about someone and smiled...
That’s when it happened....somebody called someone...
Someone else’s sky had fallen over their head....
It wasn’t the moonlit beautiful sky that lay over my head and would have felt like a feather when it fell...
It was the dark ugly naked sky sans stars which was eager to devour lives...
It fell...
My senses were numb as the dirty sky broke into pieces...
I couldn’t see it....but people told me about it...
It seemed surrealistic....still does....

dream...

Waking up from a dream has never been easy,

But I woke up one fine morning.

A cup of black coffee was all that needed,

or so I thought...

Had the weirdest feeling,

like a nightmare was being shot in the head,

or a dream was being pampered

or vice versa.

Confusion prevailed,

as usual.

A long shower would help, I thought...
Water is a life-giver, thats what I had read somewhere,

Wasn't that accurate, I guess...

There was nothing to eat,

good old Maggi came to rescue.

Thank god for small mercies...

But nothing could hold me back,

Something ....something....

The dream/nightmare.....oh yes...that was it...

After another cup of coffee and couple of smokes,
I dozed off,

and travelled back to where I had left.

So that was a dream after all...

Chandni Chowk n Haldirams!!!!

Nostalgia is such a beautiful moment. I figured this when I visited Chandni Chowk during my recent visit to Delhi (home). I realised that I had probably not gone there even once after I shifted to Mumbai.

As a child, Chandni Chowk trip used to start with my famous cribbing sessions. I used to simply hate going there because it was and is always sooooooo crowded, congested etc. That time my mom could easily use her force on me so she often would drag me along even if I cried during the way or not prayed in the temple at all.

And if she had to buy something from there like some spices or some sari or whatever, she would take me to those dirty narrow gullies where u have to turn left and right, left and right atleast ten times before she could get to "her shop" or I remember going to this aunt’s place (forcefully ofcourse) in the famous paranthe wali galli (again a narrow zigzag kind of weird lane with weird smell of all kind of parathas which were famous for some weird reason that I could never figure).

The only little ray of light used to be Haldiram’s. I would freak out on their kachauris and dhokla and kaju barfi. We would often get loads of stuff packed from there and then I would have a smile on my face while coming back home!

Anyways those were those days. There was something different that I felt during this recent visit to Chandni Chowk. Since the time I have started living on my own in Mumbai, I have gradually kind of become a “traveller”. I look at things with a new perspective , with a new meaning. I actually, for the first time, saw that inspite of all the things I used to hate about the place as a kid, Chandni Chowk is a such an exuberant, beautiful and absolutely unique place. Interestingly, there is amosque, a Gurudwara, a temple and a church within few steps of each other ( a fact that my brother was pointed out that day).

Overall, there is wonderful air around the place. There is that sense of rush, a positive rush in Chandni Chowk which lacks in almost the rest of the Delhi. The name itself is one of the most interesting names of places that I have ever come across! The architecture is undoubtedly extremely interesting. It looks like it has been there since eternity in a rather beautiful way. The old open cycle rickshaws, which have been replaced with new swanky ones in most part of Delhi, still exist in here (I absolutely adore them). My brother told me about this new Cafe Coffee Day which has opened there which has been designed in a beautiful Mughal style...(Unfortunately I could just get a glimpse of it from the car)....It looked quite unique n fun! And as usual my trip ended with the good old Haldiram’s kachauris, dhokla n amazing Kaju sweets.