The Line in Between

When does a lie not remain a lie? Is the act as formidable if committed to save a life?
When does the value of truth increase. Must it be told if it is the beginning of many ends?
Is to cheat your happiness a sacrifice? Would those you love not understand?
Is to accept the forbidden apple a sin, a bigger sin than living incomplete?
Does enduring heartache to save someone tears, bring you closer to god? Will he then make up for the tears you bled?
What if my good, becomes your bad and things turn ugly?
The line in between is far too thin.
Is it possible to always be further this side in than that?
How close do you come before it starts fading away?
How long do you stay before you decide to turn the other way?
While crossing would consequences fill your mind?
Would you still believe the right is what you’re leaving behind?

the Grey that got my Anatomy

A few routines sink under your skin, into parts so deep that still lie undiscovered by any fairness cream commercial. For me it was Grey’s Anatomy. Hours during the day would pass at a speed that could put snails to shame. Evenings were like going home to a loved one, not just family. Evenings would soon turn into late evenings and then nights would turn into early mornings. Felt no different than a budding romance. I held onto DVD boxes, watching episode after episode, season after season, till one evening the thrill was all over! Then, I’d go over old episodes, because the fear of nothing new was a little short of paralyzing. Felt no different than a budding romance.
We were all one big happy family, the interns, the residents, a friend and I. Sometimes my friend and I discussed the other members of the hospital behind their back. You know they could be wrong, but you justify and empathize. We secretly even lusted after Dr. Sheppard, meaning no harm to Meredith of course.

But that evening, as the scalpel was passed on the last operation of season 4, a strange feeling of anxiety overpowered. No more OR for a while, at that moment I found myself on Christina’s side of the fence. A tear rolled down my eye as I watched Derek, when Meredith trying hard to overcome insecurities, took her first step towards ‘happily ever after’. But suddenly things came to an abrupt end. It felt like a friend was shot dead in the middle of her sentence.

It was hard initially but, routine, that’s the thing it sinks into you. Life went back to normal. The normal before I discovered Grey’s Anatomy. I secretly wished for havoc in my life. And thy shall be done! They’ve finally started airing season 5. Initially, I avoided it like an ex but then found myself rushing towards an unseen magnetic force. Far too many questions unanswered, matters still unsettled (told you it was like romance!)
Glad to know that Derek and Meredith decided to give ‘happily ever after’ a chance. There’s a thing or two I feel, I need to tell Izzie. I know what Lexi and George don’t see coming. After watching the first and only two new episodes back to back, it feels like coming home. A warm sensation my heart had forgotten for a while, a feeling of ‘yes! even doctors fuck up!’ and ‘oh shit! It could be you on the table one day’, ‘good ol’ romance still lives round the corner’ and ‘you’re bigger if you let go’.

I don’t care if I sound loony to you. It only makes one thing clear, you’re ignorant and deprived if you haven’t watched it yet.
And if I don’t sound loony to you, then please let me know if you hear any more updates from the Seattle Grace Hospital.

p.s. I miss watching the episodes with you, I miss crying with you, I miss telling you how much I love Derek, I miss sneaking behind you and watching new episodes, I miss agreeing or disagreeing. You know who you are Girlfriend!

Lord of the Wings – Trilogy part 1

It was an interesting night, the wine, the company & a long winding road of memories. I met someone who works for an advertising agency and from there on, doors were opened to the flash back fort. Reminiscing the days of being ‘young blood’ I realized, the enthusiasm for life was general, but the time spent ‘learning the ropes’ in any advertising agency in India was unexplainably more grueling then the young Shoe- Fi- Mafee’s here, who drive their Porches’ to work, order from Saj Express and clock out at 6 pm sharp!
But I’m grateful for the shallow company that night, it made me want to immortalize every memory I built working as a management trainee, thinking, today will be the last….

Warning: any resemblance to a person living is purely co-incidental. If you started off in an advertising agency and (after many many many years) still continue to work in one then, you probably should be dead by now!

Like every other 6:30 in the morning today felt no different. Life outside whizzed into the dawn, while I struggled to balance on a feet and a half. My body still ached from the taxi drive home three nights before. Shower and a marathon to the railway station (I could easily prepare for a tempo run, as the mile record gets better each day).
My breath was still catching up with me as I glimpsed at the distorting faces onboard the train, which was fast disappearing into void. Today, yet again the railway punctuality caught me by surprise! Time seemed motionless. Finally, after waiting for eternity the next train arrived a whole 4 more minutes later.

As I braved 40 other women through a 4 feet narrow cabin entrance on a 3 sec stopover, a familiar *rriiippp* momentarily fazed me. A safety pin now secured into my kurta, I found myself slowly, slipping into comfortable slumber, sometimes with only enough room to balance on one leg, a stranger’s umbrella prodding into my stomach, the strong smell of coconut oil from gypsy wayward strands and the familiar stench of fresh fish on its way to the morning market. The chaotic whispers, the group Bhajans, the antakhsri’s, the chuk chuk of the train, in concert they all lullaby me.

As the train pulls into the station, a bright new day & fresh new challenges await, starting with trying to conjure up profound reasons for being a half hour late. As the outlook page unfolds, I excitedly stare into the 14 inch like a mother, anticipating her first born to walk. Just then I’m distracted by sounds of pointed footsteps. Hoping, like the train this morning, it too will whiz pass.

Lord of the Wings – Trilogy part 2

“The client had asked for the logo to be .0874% bigger and its not!” Though initially this may not seem like a concerning issue, however, in the bigger picture as you soon learn in advertising, the decision could be a reason for a dormant volcano to suddenly come alive.
The coffee machine breaking down, the fax machine not working and papers being stuck in tray 2 is not helping either (cross departmental training, very important, if you want to appear lucrative in the corporate world). After shining through challenges the day has pitched up (no battle is too small) I’ve now returned, like a bride on her wedding night, not sure what to expect, from her loaded outlook page.

One rule however, that I was quick to learn - if the morning has gone past a little too unexpectedly, the afternoon expectedly never fails to make up for the lack of excitement. The fifty third option of the layout that was presented is still not what the client had in mind. Reason - that’s why multinational agencies are hired, to decipher words of wisdom like ‘hmm.’ ‘Ummmm’ ‘Kuch…mazaa nahin aaya ’.

*Sigh* Off I go to try a different pantone for blue, or air brush a chicken’s breast and make it worthy enough for an award winning line ‘I’m Juicy Eat Me’(arrived at by the Client, out of deep brand understanding). After the tribulations of turning a short lived chickens life into a super models dream, I suddenly become conscious of the 4 other clients, neglected since. Every day to buy time, I try the same line ‘but I’ve sent you the email already, my server is a little slow’ and everyday my client retorts with a standard ‘but the deadline was an hour ago’. We have an understanding. I slip away from prying eyes and don my wonder woman costume.

I return! Successful. Tired, but not stirred, just in time to be informed by the boss of another earth shuddering event. After a few lekin.. magar mein… suno to… I’m off again, reciting (as loud and in the head mostly), on all the reasons I wanted to relentlessly pursue an unglamorous career in a glamorous industry. Cadbury, Coke, P& G…I begin to smile.

At times like these there can be no greater sin than questioning the sanctity of a cigarette break. In an unrepeated corner on the balcony, finally a spot you can call your own, your shelter from the world behind those doors, your haven, only for you…. and the other 10 account executives who feel like they’ve just prevented a mini tsunami. As I stand gusting into the sunset, everything around me fades away. Familiarity meets conscious as I draw on the last puff. “Tough day huh?” and heads shake in concurrence. In that moment, you’ve suddenly reached out and bonded.

Lord of the Wings – Trilogy part 3

A cold cup of tea (not sure how long it’s been lying there) and 20 unread emails have been keeping each other busy. As I interrupt their tryst with a fleeting look at the crosses on my ‘to do list’ it’s almost like sticking a finger in the face of time. It’s only been 8 hours after all. A sense of achievement. A short one, as there’s still twice as much left to do than the number of hours on the clock for today. But Rome wasn’t built in a day. Do you think the line would work in my defense? Yeah, thought as much.

At one point, I stood in the corridor, lost, feeling invisible. Looking through the blades of paper floating to the floor, I struggled to find my sense of balance. From a participant, I became the spectator. There was occasional eye contact with some seasoned performers (seemed like a couple of hours were taken off their clock as well), a few casual discussions around the poof, about the miscalculated master stroke from the match before, a few made plans for the evening, subconsciously knowing that’s probably as far as they’ll get. Some had given into the ‘brain dead syndrome’ for the day, a few grieved faces were returning from a ‘we’d like to see more options’ kinda meeting. Just then I was rudely awakened with sounds of ‘Benchod! kahan tha’ I exchange a gauche smile and leave the two to discuss ‘aaj client ki le li’.

You know you’ve arrived when taxi drivers haggle over dropping you home (the lucky one earns ‘post midnight fares’) I feel special nonetheless. It’s now 2 am, I silence my phone after receiving an sms from a friend requesting me to stop by his place the morning after and carry a change of clothes, since he’ll be spending yet another night at work.
My last stop, like a devotee to her shrine is dropping off layouts at the Clients reception for first thing tomorrow morning (just incase if it affects India’s economy). The security greets me with ‘madam kal kyun nahin aaye, office band tha kya’ (translates to madam, how come you didn’t drop anything by yesterday, was your office shut?) and you know you’ve definitely arrived. Too bad there was no face book back then, I would have been in the running for ‘the most popular’.

Tonight, my soul does not have the energy to drag itself to a media launch for a fun filled pretentious evening of cautioning the wind! I curl back into my taxi seat, as my magic carpet whisks me into the night with just enough time (what seems plenty on some nights) before I can snooze the alarm at 6:30 again to change the world yet another day…

Kabhi Tum

Kuch tum kaho, kabhi mein sunu
Phir mein kahoon, aur kuch tum suno
Batton hi battoon mein shyaam dhal jayegi,
Nayi subah phir tumhari umeed jagayegi
kushiyon ke timtimate diye aankhon mein bharenge
Dil mein ek ehsaas uthega,
Kahin khwaabon ka basera sajega.
Hotton per sharam phir ayegi dabe paon,
Thama hua yeh pal hoga, aur tumhari sansoon ki chaon

Ek woh alaam tha aur ek aaj,
Ki tham tham kar bhi yeh pal kat ta nahin
Bheegey ansuon ne timtimahat bujha di
Shamshaan hui khwabon ki waadi, ab yahan koi basera nahin

Roz shyam hoti to hai, per andhera dhalta nahin
Dil mein ab bhi ehsaas to hai, per hotton pe koi dua nahin
Mein kuch kahun, per sunnewalla kahan
Jo aahat karde bechain, ab woh lamha kahan
Ab to na umeed rahi, na rahi udaasi
Sirf khali pan ke aaine mein, beetein yadoon ki parchai