Write

Write.

I write in whatever capacity I can. I was once asked if I write directly on the blog and I said, “No, I write it in a diary first.” “Why”? Because I write……

Write how I was taught to do in school. Pull a page, pick a pen. Clicking tabs on a device never helped me cry my heart out as a pen on a paper did. Every curve, every cross, every dot gives a rush - an excitement of communication like no other means.


I stare at those words, they tell me why, what and how to write the next word, the next line. I take my time to think and write. It might just save few horrendous and absolutely avoidable fights you know! There is no backspace. I scratch, re-write and scratch again. Believe me when i say this - the scratches make it flawless. More genuine. More real. 


Something written on a piece of paper is far more colourful than any electronic message. When I physically put pen to my words, I paint my feelings. They burst out with a splash and spatter across the page. They shine with happiness, they blush with love and bleed with pain. Sometimes when all that fails, there are actual coloured pens/pencils which are put to good use!


But here’s why I truly write. It will make what I wish to say, stay for eternity. I remember how I found these old letters written full of admonishment and advices from wiser ones in the family, unposted ones written to lovers, hidden ones - from friends - bursting with gossip & secrets. I found them in the attic - brown and faded. Torn & somewhat tattered. But still there. Still made me wise, made me laugh, made my eyes widen at some forgotten secret and broke my heart a little, yet again. Ouch ! After all these years and for always - those words are still around and shall always be. They have after all been etched for eternity. They need not be deleted because I’ve run out of storage capacity!


These pages will always hold my words dear. So I give it to them. Entrust them with my all. 

They never disappoint. 

Ratri

Haule haule raaton ko, chupke se aaja re
Nindiya re, nindiya re, akhiyon mein samaa ja re

Nindiya re....

It's 2:45am. I have managed 2 hours of sleep till 1:00am. And since then I’ve been tossing in my bed cajoling myself to go into a deep slumber. I have walked around my room, stood in the balcony, counted the stars. Maybe music will lull me to sleep? Like lori. So I put on ‘Nindiya re’. But to no avail. With all my failed attempts, I give up putting in any more thoughts to entice the beauty of sleep. I play coke studio, night dream with open eyes, water the plants and begin to embrace this insomnia.

I’ve always aspired to be a morning person. The days I manage to be one, I fall in love with the hues of the rising sun and re-affirm my belief of sunrises > sunsets. The stillness of life, fresh cool breeze and chirpy birds – all give me a stamp of approval. Now, as I sit here tonight, I realise that the night too, has a beauty of its own. Night too, has its stillness, the soft breeze and a very very distant chirp of a bird. It may not have its morning joggers but it has its own night travelers. The intersecting lights of these travelers weave their own magic.

Night – or as I refer to her – Ratri, is two definite things amongst many others.

·        confidant

·        reboot

I can take a glass of wine, sit cross legged with ‘Ratri’ and laugh away into her realm. Laugh at my stupidities, at the insane jokes which only she and I understand. I can confide in her about he who moved next door, about the cute boy in office or about the love of my life. And guess what! She blushes more than I do and her eyes twinkle more than mine. Look at the stars sometime, you’ll believe me. I tell her of my dreams and plans. Some of which I probably will share only with her; those that will never see the light of the day. She’s seen me at my worse too. Crying and howling at the curveballs life throws. ‘Ratri’ doesn’t judge or advice. She listens. Just listens with that all knowing smile on her face. Draws in closer to embrace me. Takes me to the stars and makes me believe in magic. On special occasions, she also treats me to the moon to wipe off the stains of those tear drops.

Ah! Now don’t fool yourself into believing that she is all saintly. She is equal parts mischievous – scaring the life out of me with those strange noises and creepy shadows. But that’s how we play with each other. Running around, chasing the noises, playing hide and seek with shadows long and short – just like in childhood. And yes, like I did then, I do collapse on my bed dog-tired and slip into a rem with the blink of an eye.

However ‘Ratri’ and I may decide to spend our rendezvous, there is always an everlasting promise of rebooting. Of starting over. Of giving me strength and standing beside me, leading me to another day. She is one constant in my life, who on most occasions puts me to sleep in the company of glittery fairies and fancy dreams. Sometimes weird dreams! Till she misses me most. On those occasions – it is 3:30am and I am still awake.

Maybe I’ll always be a night person with bouts of being a morning person. Maybe I’ll walk into the morning today, holding ‘her’ hand. It’s time these two reach a truce and stop bickering over me ;)