Count

Friday, 11 November 2016

Amid hmms and um-hmms!

I switched off the lights 

n' closed my eyes

heard my past hidden in the shadow

A blend of torment, ill-timed and awful ones

 

Then I thought of you

That coffee shop, the Crossword

Those fleeting looks amid numerous 'hmms' and 'um-hmms' :)

The engrossed smile n' the glistening eyes

 

They got me melted inside

a pair of enigmatic ones!

You gotta believe me

Oh my God! They speak a lot!

 

A flashback of all of these 

For me to have, 

to choose, to bother

Brought serenity and whispered into my heart

 

“Dude! The time has came to look beyond the dusk

To weather the storm and enchant life

To chase our dreams and 

to see the crack of dawn again…”

 

I grinned after a long time

Probably wrapped up in an amorous nuance;

Coz of a feeling which I had never felt,

Utterly unknown, rarely shown n little steps…to add-on! 

 

 

 

N.B : I read somewhere…“Never forget these two kinds of people; one: the person who loses everything to let you win at any cost and two: the one whom you always remember whenever you are sad”… 

 

Now I could comprehend how true this statement is!

 

 

Monday, 18 July 2016

Silence

Unspoken Words, a symphony of phantom sighs, 

A palimpsest of absence, where meaning softly dies. 

A current unseen, yet profoundly it flows, 

The unwhispered echoes, a language no one truly knows. 

What I breathe in whispers, how you interpret the air, 

A fragile dance of meaning, suspended in thin despair. 

Just linger a moment, in the hush of what's not said, 

And perhaps you'll hear the ghosts of words long dead.

 

Unspoken Words, a guitar weeping in the night, 

Each fret a memory, bathed in pale moonlight. 

You bring a melody, a fragile, haunting strain, 

And I, with trembling fingers, weave lyrics born of pain. 

Come, let us hum together, a dirge of what might have been, 

Let the strings vibrate with the sorrow held within. 

Let them speak of fractured dreams and love's lost refrain, 

In the quiet spaces where only shadows remain.

 

Unspoken Words, labyrinthine alleyways of the soul, 

Where shadows stretch and memories take their toll. 

I wander these desolate paths, lost in the fading light, 

A prisoner of moments, trapped in the endless night. 

I wish you could traverse them, these corridors of my past,

Feel the weight of ages, the time that slips too fast. 

My sense of time unravels, lost in this desolate maze, 

Where echoes of laughter mingle with the fog of bygone days

 

Unspoken Words, a vast expanse of cerulean blue, 

A canvas painted with hues of melancholy and rue. 

It holds the answers to every grief, delusion, and delight, 

Reflected in the stars that pierce the velvet night. 

In the tranquil hours, when the world is hushed and still, 

I gaze into the abyss, seeking solace on the lonely hill. 

Searching for the answers to the "whys" that haunt my core, 

Lost in the immensity, forevermore

 

Unspoken Words…yours and mine, a chasm deep and wide, 

A story left unfinished, where destinies collide. 

Neither you nor I can fathom the cruel hand of fate, 

That wove these unspoken words into a desolate state. 

When and how did language fade into this silent tomb? 

When did our shared narrative succumb to the gathering gloom? 

Unspoken Words, a shroud that wraps us in its cold embrace, 

Unspoken Words…a haunting echo in this desolate space. 

A haunting echo of what could have been, 

Lost in the absence, forever unseen

Saturday, 12 March 2016

Family day@IDFC Bank

What will I do in a family day get-together tomorrow? There would be barely anything of interest. I rather focus on developing a fraud mitigation strategy instead.”

 

 

It was a melancholic morning as I walked past Bandra Kurla Complex. The ancient & somewhat stale wind blowing from the west accentuated the already calm & tranquil surrounding. At intervals, the passing vehicles, cleaved the almost engulfing silence. 

 

My mind was preoccupied with yesterday’s thought. I stay alone in Mumbai and my family is in the city of temples "Bhubaneswar"; almost 2000 kms away. I reached office at 9:30 AM, had breakfast, and started working.

 

 

This had been my modus operandi for the last couple of weeks. However at lunchtime, I noticed the difference at the cafeteria. A truck full of IDFC themed colour balloons, flowers, decoration items, etc. were there at the ground floor. At least a dozen people busy in decorating the pertinent places and a cacophony. Be it lunch or snacks; I hardly spend more than 10 minutes on food. But it was different today. I spent almost an hour in the cafeteria.

 

 

By 4 o’clock the cafeteria and its adjacent corridor transformed into a beautiful amusement party place. I volunteered to help some of my colleagues to capture precious moments with their family. I could see enchanted kids partaking in numerous events and winning gifts, well, there was hardly anyone who returned empty-handed. Kids were licking away ice lollies, employees were taking pride in showing their workstations to their family members, a small girl offering her dad to take a bite of a burger; probably she thought that out of sheer happiness of showing her around, he might have forgotten to grab a bite during lunchtime.

 

I never presumed that the person on my floor whom I thought to be gloomy and always occupied with work could be so lively with his family members around. I liked his smile! 

 

Indeed life is not a chronological issue, but a psychosomatic one, in which we question the values and paradigms we live by, although life keeps surprising us.

 

 

People think that bankers are nerds and kind of boring species. Not always.

 

 

It was flashback time for me. When I was in school, I used to go out with my parents to carnivals, shopping, marriage parties where there would be a gang of kids and we used to be part of many mischievous activities and hilarious saga.



All of a sudden I started missing those moments. Probably in the process of building Linkedin profile, I forgot my childhood. Memories are good, but that’s all they were. I was feeling nostalgic, my childhood days flashing before me. A droplet tickled in my eye. I almost reached my desk when a colleague’s kid asked me “hi uncle, have you tried this ice gola? Let’s have em.”

 

I smiled and asked “which flavour do you suggest?”

 

He exclaimed “try kala khatta with orange syrup. That’s my favourite”

 

I must confess that even after so many years, these ice lolly still taste precisely the same like the ones which we used to get next to our school gate.

 

The sun was slowly setting behind PNB house. Cool breeze brushed upon my face. Well, the light rays, now unburdened from the harsh heat of the sun, had softened the shape of distant objects, and beamed quietly in the sky like airy wines. The colour of BKC was transforming into pale rose from its brighter golden brown. I looked at the sky and smiled.  Who said I don’t have a family here...I got one…a big loving one at IDFC :).

 

 

Thank you for bringing me back to my childhood.