Friday, October 21, 2016

Where I'm going with this

So this is happening again. I logged in my account and tried to frame this post.
It's been one hour but I'm not able to get past the first sentence.
My mind is foggy.
So many things I wanted to say out loud. To yell in fact.
But this confusion is again overtaking me.
Like a spiraling black hole.
Engulfing my thoughts.
Filling my brain with sheer darkness.
I don't see the end of this.
Perhaps there is no end to it.
It may go on.
The only way I can see now is to write and get over it.
Without giving a second thought.
To write without any fear.
May be that's the only way I can survive.

Monday, May 16, 2016

It's all gonna be fine

It's been over two hours since I was waiting for this flight. Delayed flights are common nowadays. But on the same note, the airports also have too many distractions to keep you busy. I was 'making' this lemonade (yes making!) because the man at the counter gave me sugar cubes, lemon syrup, soda and salt separately so that I can make it 'accordingly' to suit my taste buds. And for some reason, I never get it right. Sometimes it's too sweet and sometimes it's too sour. Almost half of the lemonade I finished in just perfecting that solution (Mind it! That mixture didn't qualify as any drinkable item and was tasting like a solution that we used to draw in mouth accidentally while doing the titration experiments in the chemistry lab).

It also made me question that why I'm paying two hundred bucks for the raw materials that I can easily get for twenty bucks? Anyways, let's not get into the technicalities of this matter because the main objective of this post is not to discuss the lemonade.

So I was making this lemonade and simultaneously trying to trace my husband who was standing in a long queue and waiting for his turn to place the order for pizza.

Finally, I saw him. He smiled and mouthed 'five minutes'. I knew it right away it will take much longer than five minutes. However, there was nothing we could do, but wait. I opened my wallet, fiddled with my bag and camera for a while. Then I took out the boarding pass and started reading randomly.

For the very first time, I read my name as Mrs. Shipra Jain. And not Miss. Shipra Jain.

It hit me for the first time that day. That I am no longer a Miss. now. Oh God! I am someone's wife. The sound of it did sound freaky as it took me flat two months from being single to married.

I looked up at my husband's face and he was smiling profoundly at me. He didn't say anything but I felt a sudden warmth in his expression. As if he's saying that it's all gonna be fine.

I Remember It All

Last night it was insomnia again. I slept early (10:00 pm is way too early by our standards) then woke up at midnight. Shashank was fast asleep like everyone else at home. Generally, whenever I suffer insomnia, I keep on lying on my bed and wait for the sleep to take over. But there are days when I try other things. I've tried taking a stroll or listening music or reading something, but believe me, none of these have helped so far. And yesterday I was sitting on my bed and watching my wedding pictures. There were too many pictures..full of people. There were my friends, relatives, colleagues, acquaintances and then there were other people whom I had seen for the very first time in my life and there are strong chances that I won't see them ever again (unless it is someone's wedding).

It was like a whole bouquet of memories. Of course I don't remember every teeny-weeny bit of my marriage (poor brain can't remember it all). But I do remember some important fractions of it. I remember when after the roka ceremony I forgot my best friend at the venue (Oh yes! I did!). I remember, her entering the home with her broken slippers in one hand and her dupatta in other and yelling 'Shipra! How can you leave me at the venue'. And me breaking into the fits of laughter afterwards.

I remember the text that she sent the next morning stating 'The best thing about your marriage is, your shoe size fits me'.

I remember the moment when she turned up at my office, unexpectedly in a silk saree, with a rose bouquet (okay! I admit that the saree was not for me, but the bouquet was).

I remember how she used to drop frequently at my office and we used to take long strolls in the office campus and sometimes much beyond the office campus. I also remember how my office friends used to cover up for me whenever I bunked office to take such strolls.

I remember how excited she was when she colored her hair red and how sad she was when she couldn't go for the purple.

I remember the efforts she had put to prepare the hit 'Lungi Dance' dance steps. And how she dragged her little brother into it.

I remember how she accompanied me when I was getting ready for the wedding. And how killer she looked in that red saree (and of course black hair! :D)

I remember our short meetings at the metro station and the 'chow' that we used to eat at that shady south Indian restaurant (Yes! You read it right. It was a south Indian restaurant which makes awesome noodles).

And above all, I remember her text that she sent before leaving from Delhi 'Shipra! Whenver I think about me getting ready at the parlour on my wedding, I always imagine you by my side'.

And I bet I will be.

Wednesday, August 27, 2014