I am Afraid…..

What is fear?

Is it the sensation that always keeps you on your toes?

Or is it the shivers that runs down your spine every-time you experience the unexpected?

People say that fear has many effects on them. For some it acts as a catalyst, pushing them to their limits. For others it maybe be an inhibitor that chokes down their throats, making it hard to breathe.

I had once believed fear of the unknown is thrilling. The adrenaline rush, the rushlanes. Everything seemed so mystic, so divine that it felt as if its all part of a bigger plan. But things started to fall apart. My plan of becoming big at a younger age seemed a lost cause. And why did this happen? For starters it seemed easy. Accepting defeat at the hands of my greatest fear. It made me feel a little more relaxed than the days before. A little complacent, a little more aware of my surroundings. It felt as giving up on overcoming my fears is the practical choice as life is about moving on.

My fear was the fear of a failure because for the first time in my life, I got a real sense of what failure was like. Its like falling deep down an endless hole in the ground, like a piece of paper that drifts hopelessly in the wind without any purpose or worth. It started getting to my veins. Everything around me turned into a concoction of some serious malaise, something looking me every-time I ventured outside my zone of comfort or my room which had become my only partner in this journey. Its the time like these you realise that loneliness can both be a boon and a bane and that there would be times when you’ll want to be alone with just a few very important people, few very close, intimate people that may share the vision same as yours. Those people came to my life in the form of my loving family, my parents, brother, my two adorable pets and two of the most amazing people life gave me a gift of. This family, this little globe of mine soon turned into my cocoon which I could always be comfortable in because they had the audacity to care of anyone more than just themselves. They would listen to me break down everytime I would hit rock bottom, gave me the strength to stand again and face my fears. I had at one point of my life started to think that maybe this is my fate, that this is what I am supposed to do. But they made me believe otherwise. A bird has faith in its wings, they would say and make me take a leap of faith once again, everytime failure dragged me down and pinned me under.

This process, fighting your fear might look too complicated. It surely is difficult but maybe it isn’t such a conundrum as we might think it is. It isn’t about a timeframe or a test of anything thats physical. The body can do things only the mind can wonder. It isn’t a race either wherein you’ll be a winner only if you came at first. The world is replete with examples of people who dared to fail, who dared to think that maybe someday it would all be worth it, that maybe life is all about trying it until it gets done.

I have believed in the sanctity of dreams, the power of imagination and the will of the mind because these things are ingrained in a being right from the day one gets a heartbeat in a womb. Dreams are what makes us humans and trying to achieve them is the most humane thing to do until and unless it involves crushing down dreams or lives of others which in no religion or language or culture of the world is acceptable.

Fear is a part of the human psychosis and would be there for eternity. For fear is what makes a man do things that once he wouldn’t have ever imagined. Fear is necessary as the sudden rush of adrenaline gives you the horsepower to steam full ahead and barge on the doors of success until it finally breaks and lets you in.

So as I part with a little something that’s been going on with me for sometime now, I just want to tell you it’s okay to be feared. I am too.

You are stronger than what you think you are.



Mist Air…..

She was slowly diminished from his memory,

The words, the skin and all the roses red,

A century might have passed since I saw her,

He exclaimed while he strolled,

Her smell, her touch and oh god that beautiful hair,

Lost in the shadows among the unnamed,

She was still there,

But nowhere here,

They say time heals the worst of all scars,

She was his time and he was her mist air…….


As the night slowly descends,

The ghosts of the past,

The mistakes, the lost and the smothered,

The boy scared to his deepest bones,

Prepares himself for them,

Those that have chased him for eternity,

Hopelessness, despair and plight,

Everynight they come,

Sometimes shrivels him in his sleep,

Sometimes drop him to the trenches deep,

The boy scared and lonely,

Closes his eyes and tell himself each day,

This all would be worth someday,

For the night is not eternal,

For the plight is not eternal…..

The Perfect Dish

How do you know this the perfect relationship?
The young asked the elder while they prepared the dinner.
This needs some more pepper,
The elder said as she tasted the soup,
Will you be a doll and pass me some? She had politely asked her,
You see dear,
Relationships are like cooking,
There  might be days you create something awful,
Or days when you feel like there’s nothing in the world quite like this,
Sometimes you might feel something is missing in your preparation,
Or you may feel that you overdid it,
But you see dear,
Every dish you make,
Every new recipe you try,
There would come a day,
You’ll find the best balance between all the ingredients in your dish,
Maybe it is too spicy for someone else’s liking,
Or too blant for some other,
But remember it is perfect for you,
The one that races your heart on fire,
The best drug of all time,
And calms the storms inside you,
Brings you home,
Makes you smile at the smallest of all things,
All at once,
Remember dear whenever this happens,
Its perfect for you,
But as all masterpieces take time and trust and respect and energy to build,
A dish requires the same,
We all are artists in some way or the other,
She smiled as she poured the soup in bowls,
Take this one to your grandfather,
She said,
He likes it hot,
She had smirked…..

Saying goodbye to an old friend

It was the summer of 1999 and my summer vacations had just started. I was naive back then, had no idea of what was going around me. But could sense excitement when it spurred, especially in my parents. My parents on one fine day asked me to get ready to go somewhere and I got up with enthusiasm and curiosity to prepare myself. My brother was quite young back then and my parents decided to leave him with my grandmother at home. Ashok uncle had come to our house that day and I started to play with him. My parents got ready and we took off from our home. We took a rickshaw and reached the place. To my surprise it was a car dealership. My excitement knew no bounds and I jumped with happiness. In it we went and there were all kinds of shiny cars. The green one, the red one and the sweet smell of new rubber. My parents were greeted by the salesperson who brought them a brochure of their most successful car- The Maruti 800. The elders got busy and I went around the showroom to explore the cars. Everything was so shiny and so new. I remember sitting in every seat of the car and then the driver seat. The driver seat was something else. My hands could barely fit the steering wheel but I imagined it to be so much more. I imagined so much more back then. Captain Vyom had just started to get famous and I was stunned by it. I was intrigued by the stories they showed and the effects they used.

My Maruti was my Spaceship and I was the partner of Captain Vyom.

I tilted the steering in every way possible with all my force and steered it across the galaxy fighting the ugly aliens. I was the Galaxy’s Protector. I was interfered by mother who called me back to her. She told me that the one in white would be ours. I was ecstatic. The salesperson even took me to the car where it was being prepared. It was being washed and I remember how the light falling on it created a rainbow. I could see my spaceship prepare for flight. The formalities were complete by the end of the day and we bid our goodbyes to the dealership. My father didn’t know how to drive so it was my uncle who took the steering wheel. I sat in the front touching everything that was ours. We reached the home where my grandmother was ready with a coconut and lots of molly or red ribbon. She applied a tika on the car, tied a molly to the steering wheel and my father cracked the coconut in front of the car. Everyone was so happy and why wouldn’t they be, it was the first car in the family!

It was treated like a family member and even a single scratch would make my father run for repairs. My brother and I always played inside it. Sometimes he would be a driver and I would sit at the back and sometimes vice versa. We played for hours inside until my mother would come and grab us by the ear.

It went with us wherever we went and has travelled the same cities we have lived. The model we owned didn’t have an air conditioning system as the time of buying it was out of our budget. I remember spending afternoons of summer, sweating profusely in the blazing heat of the North Indian summer but never did we complain because whatever happened our car was our pride. It showed us what hardwork and determination brought you. It tells you to appreciate, prepares you for future, makes you respect your roots.

I remember not much of my childhood but this car is something which has so many memories attached to it. It has seen all the good and the bad days and stood by us like a friend would, like family would.

I have always termed myself a practical man. Not believing in anything that has not been perceived. Writing this story gave me another perspective of me. I am a lot emotional that I thought I was and the best part is that I am not ashamed of it. What is a man without emotions, without the respect of things that has touched his life.

Being sensitive I think is a gift because the day we stop thinking about anyone except us, humanity would die.

Our 800 took care of us, shielded us from the rain and the elements of weather and has served us for almost two decades. It deserved this. It deserved a teary eyed goodbye.


कुछ इस क़दर गये थे तुम,

आज भी उन सिलवटों को काग़ज़ पर उतारने कि कोशिश कर रहा हूँ,

ना जाने कैसा ख़ुमार था कशिश में तुम्हारी,

मैं आज भी अपना पैमाना ढूंढ रहा हूँ…….