ayega maza ab barsaat ka
treat this like a blog on myspace, blogger and whatnot?
Woke up late, made myself get even more late. Laid sideways staring at the sky, the pain within the gut oozing out red, staining the thigh. I was comforted by the fact that when I would choose to wake up, a cigarette and coffee waited for me in my kitchen; and so did soggy noodles from two days ago, half uneaten, but the attempt must count.
I checked my phone, music still playing, successfully evading the attempts of people calling me. I sat with the music.
Raat Sone Lagi Subah Hone Lagi
Shammaa Bujhane Lagi Dil Machalane Lage
Vaqt Ki Raushani Mein Nahaai Hui
Zindagi Pe Ajab Saa Nikhaar Aa Gayaa.
The night slept, the morning dawned
The light is exhausting itself, the heart is restless
The light of time has bathed
This life, which now has a special glow of its own
In my fridgeless and mindless behaviour, I had left the milk out in the open, convinced the breeze leaning through the window at night would take care of it. Upon touching the vessel, the milk curdled, and my cup of coffee powder and sugar were left spurned. I could have given up then and there, but I didn’t. I contemplated drinking it regardless, but that would be like adding oil to the fire that sat in the pit of my stomach, quite literally too. I got dressed with Noorie, one of my kittens sitting on my shoulder as I put on moisturiser, and got out.
On my way to work I saw a tractor upturned, lying lifeless on the side of the road. I looked at it until I couldn’t, and felt a sense of attachment. Red, lifeless, on the side of a busy path. Roadkill. What other criteria do you need to fulfill to be deemed one? Didn’t the tractor fulfill a purpose, and isn’t that what cloaks the spirit of existence lately – are you worth anything?
The office is cold and buzzing with electricity. If everybody is quiet enough, the rhythms of electric angels permeate the silence. Outside it is hot and cold, all at once. It will rain today, maybe my pink umbrella will come in handy.
I am listening to a song about rain on youtube right now, from the movie Andaaz. I do not have a memory of my own regarding this, but my mother went to watch this movie on a single screen in a small town in UP in 2003. She fondly recalls I – a baby just shy of turning two – was quiet throughout the film, enthralled. I don’t think she ever watched a movie on the big screen again until I begged my parents to take me for Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them. The tickets were expensive, but god, I wanted to fit in with my school friends so bad.
All my life until then I was the bookworm, reading it all. But with the onset of making movies based on books, it had gotten tough to maintain my singular empire, wherein I sat on a throne nobody could touch. Now everybody was watching these movies, and had something to talk about with each other that did not include me. The other things, such as family and personal life and sleepovers and birthdays and such were inaccessible to me anyways. This was my only thing, and I was getting left behind. I was feeling anxious and like curdled milk.
That anxiety turned into a beast within that stayed with me for a while, and I went to watch the Harry Potter extended universe film in 3D. My dad stayed out in the mall while my mother, brother, and I went in – all clueless for different reasons. We were all excited and scared about the 3D aspect, but for her it was akin to going to a fair or a circus, with nothing to understand or connect to.
When I stepped out of the hall, all I could feel was a sense of sadness. I felt like I wasted everyone's money and time, and it didn’t even amuse me much. I did not even like that book to be honest.
A decade or so later, almost, I don’t watch films as much as I want to, due to lack of myself on most days. But I did go to the theatres recently. Watched F1. Watched some old ones at home. Watched some really good films that I would probably have not discovered if it weren’t presented to me on a plate after me declaring I want to watch something “nice and cute and happy and sad.”
The song in Andaaz is very lusty, and sensual. It is a classic Bollywood song, it has everything you need in a song to put it in your wedding video, were you getting married in the 90s-00s. During those same formative years in school, I felt embarrassed about enjoying these songs. Everybody else in private schools in Delhi was already catching up with Justin Bieber, The Wanted, 5 Seconds of Summer, and everything else. I too, did listen to them, but that didn’t negate the fact that Udit Narayan reigned over our household. It didn’t change the fact that we would leave Masti channel on at night until everybody went to bed because they would have a segment of songs from the 60s-70s. Growing up with cousins from the 90s around, it added to my concepts of music taste and the idea of romance a lot. I knew I was meant for a monsoon romance. Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to be loved to the sounds of synth and harmonica and flutes.
So I had nobody to discuss any of this with, nobody to talk to about how Akshay Kumar and Raveena Tandon swapped colour palettes for two extremely similar songs in two different movies.
What troubled me was, Honey Singh was acceptable, but Kumar Sanu and Alka Yagnik weren't.
I don’t think my mother listens to as many songs as she used to. Whenever I visit her, she falls back into the habit though, and we play the game of guessing the song in the first few seconds. My dad has five or so favourite songs he hums on rare occasions. Last night I listened to one of those, nursing my pain(s). I don’t think I miss them, or need them to come here, I just miss the sensations and memories I have carefully kept inside my brain terrarium, feeding and nursing it all, so that I keep going on.
It is around four pm now, and I am checked out mentally. The days ahead of me seem tough, and I honestly don’t know how I will get through them, but even with all of these concerns, I know I will get through them.
I don’t know how to end this. Bye.
