She

Warm yellow lights bounce off her...
her jet black hair shining in the wake

An Angel come in from the cold
spreading a joyous glow through me

She tilts her head and observes...
A placid countenance

A tender hand that plays with a lock
another that rests outstretched

On the rosewood table that melds
with the flowing satin of her dress

Her eyes rest on me
Lamps -
that speak a thousand words
From afar...
Or near, they enrapture me...
Those limpid pools

Time and space mean nothing
Nothing at all

Her lips part as if to speak...
speak of many wonders

But,
...She only smiles
that, doesn't give away much

And yet softly caresses my heart
As she puts the wine to her lips

And looks on...

I endeavor to speak of her beauty
But words seem awkward and inept

An image is all i have now
And all that i need is she...

Break-up Table

He looked at her quizzically…

She had just made a statement that most guys dread. She looked at him resolutely. He realized that she wasn’t joking.

“Dammit!” he thought

“So close…”

She picked up her purse and walked away from the table. He looked at her walking away with a sinking feeling he knew all too well.

“Don’t go…” he thought in agony. She didn’t even turn back to look at him.

“Bitch…” he thought as he fished out his credit card to pay the bill. He walked away from the ‘break-up table’. That table had done it again!

“Goddamn uncanny!” he exclaimed in his brain. That table had never failed to ruin a relationship. The café he was leaving was called Antony’s. The table he was looking at was the third round table that sat near the picture window of the café.

He counted in his head “Natasha, Megha, Julie, and Jenny…wow!” this table is lethal.

This is his story…

“I have a fail safe you see. Whenever any relationship seems to be getting on me... as in growing on me. I have the ultimate test. I take the girl to the break up table. If she survives it – she can survive anything!!!

So I met this really really hot girl. She had all the bells and whistles in palace! And I mean what bells and whistles – whooo ho ho ho!

We went out to all the happening places.

Monica’s place – the warmest Italian restaurant this side of the city.

The bling – the hottest night club that all wannabes want to get into.

 The shack – an awesome grungy place that takes you back ages.

The Marriot – 5 star elegance.

It was all awesome! I tell you man – it was brilliant. She was awesome, she was cool, she had the entire attitude I wanted and more. She seemed to be the perfect woman who was, incidentally the woman of my dreams as well!

Alas! The break-up table.

I most naively asked her to partake breakfast at the dreaded table in a Saturday night drunken haze. She agreed.

We met up Sunday morning – ok! She was looking most pretty (Given the Neanderthal activities she had indulged in), in a bright blue frock.

She walked up sunnily to the table and sat down. The proceedings started off badly. The chair seemed wobbly to her. The owner came out and put a cardboard carton to right it. He looked at me knowingly and gave a slight smile.

She opened the menu and most grudgingly agreed to toast, egg and some bacon. She already seemed irritable.

“Did you enjoy last night sweety?”

“yeah…(whatever)” she answered nonchalantly.

(grrrrr…..)

I myself did not know how to make any legible conversation.  I sat there looking at her - Pretty sure that the next thing she would say the dreaded words.

She did not – not yet.

She seemed to be bored – “well what’s the plan for today then?” – I asked.

“Ummmm…nothing, I guess…”

“Hmmm…”

I knew it wasn’t going too well. I saw it slipping.

“Well…say something!” I endeavored almost on the verge of tears.

“Ummm, well it’s just this…”

She broke up even before the eggs arrived.

I watched her walk away

“Bitch …” I thought as she did.

“Damn you break-up table!”

Well, shit happens you know. I take it in my stride – well not literally! Cmon!

Anyway, so yeah, she walked away from the table. And obviously I had to start up again.

She was a doe eyed wonder. She was cute and sprightly. She turned all my right knobs. And more.

Well I looked away when she looked too closely at me. I was afraid you see – very afraid.

It wasn’t the best of things to do – or the bravest. But nevertheless it was the only defense I had to her charms.

I knew, she hadn’t passed the break up table test. The acid test of all. I proposed the bloody black breakfast to her. She readily agreed with dimpled cheeks!

Oooo, iw as gonna miss this woman!

And she walked…just like that! Poof! My gregariousness, my might, my intelligence, my physique – all melted away in her eyes.

I wanted to hang myself at that time – no kidding. I even got myself a rope. Only that it was too uncomfortable otherwise I would have followed through.

She oozed intelligence.

She had wavy hair, and wore rectangular glasses that slightly magnified her eyes – she was sexy - or rather her brain was sexy.

She walked with her head held high – fully knowing that she was in command.

Wow! Now that really turned me on.

She would quote Shakespeare, Freud, and Gandhi in the same breath. She was the beautiful goddess of knowledge – who, when spoke, spoke with a thousand times the light of the sun.

She was petite – which meant she was easy handling. That was another boon. Although nothing less than a wildcat!

Pretty soon the test loomed. I made the proposition for the last supper.

She agreed.

She appeared in a simple jeans and tees. She sat down looking at me with the intent gaze that called me a dunce whenever she looked at me.

I would readily wear a conical cap and sit in the corner for her.

She walked!

Damn you woman!

…

A smile – a slight gentle winning smile. Soft lips and softer words that flowed effortlessly. She seemed fine. Nothing jarring about her. Nothing whatsoever.

She sat quietly. All about her there was a serene quietness. I don’t really know what she was all about. I kept looking at her intently.

She pursed her lips in some thought as she ran a finger on the rim of the wine glass.

I kept on looking at her, she did not give any tell tale signs. She kept thinking about something.

“What’s wrong?” I asked half in dread.

“Oh, I don’t know…” she gave a slight smile.

“What…” I smiled back.

She directed her lamps towards me, “nothing…” and she smiled.

The table broke that day.

Sunlight

There was a carpet of green stretching for miles.

He breathed in the pure cool air and set off. Feet crushing the gravel under them. the rhythmic sound almost lulled his senses and the cool air invigorated them again.

Not to mention the visual feast of green stretching out in front of him. He tore the ipod speakers from his ears to let the sounds of mother nature smother him with their attention. The sky had streaks of clouds and there was an orange glow of the rising sun on the horizon.

the gravel path stretched out with big oaks flanking both sides. "Paradise might look a bit like this" he thought in his head. There was no one on the path and the world seemed unadulterated, beautiful, friendly.

His breath started achieving a rhythm as his feet moved themselves by now. Although, they did start feeling a bit heavy after a while.

"Gotta keep this going regularly" he thought wistfully knowing well enough that he wasn't a morning person.

Nevertheless, shortcomings aside he was enjoying himself. his lungs thanked him cacophonously for bringing them there.

The the path meandered through the grassy knolls moving up and down gently, curving slightly to the left and then straightening out. The gentleness of the environ relaxed him even more. His rhythmic breathing continued as he neared the middle point of the park. The lower branches of the trees gently brushed his hair as he jogged past them. As if to feel the presence of a friendly soul and bestow nature's blessing on him.

"Why are not there such unmolested places back home..?" he thought wistfully.

"The best parks look like an apology!"

Up ahead he noticed a young family, a small child running on the grass oblivious to his parents call - the joy of a million worlds glowing on his face. His Father ran after him laughing at how rapidly his son's small legs could carry him.

It was a sight that could warm even the coldest hearts. He stopped jogging and just sat down on the grass. All around he saw - a sea of green met his eyes. Far away in the horizon, the green ended where the blue took over; giving way to ochre and gold as the Sun rose majestically into the sky. He felt the warmth of the Sun on his face and lovingly closed his eyes to the experience. A sweet satisfied smile swept across his face.

Just then he felt a tap on his shoulder. He opened his eyes to see the small child standing next to him his golden curls shining in the morning light. He looked like a little angel wanting to play. He was laughing and pointing at him and at the Sun his eyes wide in wonderment.

The child obviously understood and deciphered much more than him. He was enraptured with what the child was trying to convey to him. He would point to him, then at the Sun and say "He..." bunch up his little hands in a fist and touch his heart. It was divinity personified.

His Father came and picked him up asking him not to trouble other people.

"Oh! That's all right! He is so cute! I'm fine thank you." He responded with a smile. The Father smiled back.

He picked himself up, looked at the Sun once more thoughtfully.

"A profound experience..." he thought as he made his way home.


The picture is of 'Ravenor Park' where i go to take a Jog everyday.

The Scourge of Stock Images

Stock images.

Yes - also the name for those ugly images of random people doing idiotic things like flailing arms while wearing office clothes to reflect whatever challenges faced at work. It is singularly ghastly to behold these people performing these amazing acts purely to perpetrate some loser creating a presentation. I would surely much rather prefer images created in photoshop or any other image creation tool. But depart hastily from resorting to the use of stock images.

A brilliant example is what i came across recently when trawling through the website of a big retailer. There was a couple - assumed - smiling widely - nay - almost tearing-their-mouths-up while looking at some electronic device. I could only wonder as to the reason for this display of dentistry. Perhaps they were exceedingly glad at buying a mobile phone together - however - it nowhere near licenced them to bare their fangs at the camera.

But my unhappiness is multiplied when i see another women grinning in the same dastardly fashion while staring into space contemplating where her next meal is going to come from. And that is my grouch!

There are no emotions in stock (sic) photos. It is akin to watching clothes being draped on mannequins. They stand there nonchalantly while men (helpers you sicko!) grab various parts to create just the right pose.

But i Digress.

What i mean is instead of using images of people that look like they walked out of Madame Tussuad's waxworks - use real people - I for one would connect with your message instantly!

Heavy Artillery

“Well, what have we here...?”

He thought for the umpteenth time.

“There’s Shyam, Viru and…” he thought

“… and Rekha…”

“Aaah, Rekha…” and he was lost for half an hour.

Rekha was the new office goddess - to be succinct. She had just joined the floor some days back.

To be verbose – she was the sublime beauty that ruled the hear t of many a men on the floor. Many had laid down their lives willingly for this Apsara descended from the heavens. Raghu was one of them. If he was a cat, it would be his seventh life right now…

Rekha – with the golden tresses (bleached) and never ending eyelashes (fake). With the flowing fingers and creamy skin (original). With the voice that stirs the soul and brings forth a melody that invigorates the senses (debatable).

Raghu’s heart ached.

“That bastard Shyam, I really want to kill him” he thought. Shyam had managed to pip Raghu in wishing her a ‘good morning’ today.

“He even called her ‘Sunshine’ bloody characterless pig!” Raghu was livid.

As is evident, Raghu was pretty much in love with Rekha. So were Shyam and Dinesh (some insignificant guy) and Viru.

Rekha on the other hand favored only Raghu and Shyam to a certain extent. There was a power struggle between the two.

“Viru’s small change. But fun to have around” she had thought socialite-ly once. Work wasn’t boring – no – not for Rekha and pretty many other people on the floor.

The floor belonged to Symmetrix – One of the ubiquitous BPO’s that had many employees in Navi Mumbai.

__________________

Shyam briskly walked in. he had perfected this art from his mentor. His mentor had told him – “Shyam! To be successful and make an impression – you don’t have to work hard! All you need to do is to dress sharply and look important – even if you want to talk to your girlfriend, talk in a highly animated fashion. Like you are discussing the deal of the year…”

He had told him many other things as well but they are too complicated to get into right now.

So Shyam strode in. he did not walk. He did not glide. He strode. Striding was his signature style. He sidled towards Rekha even as Raghu’s eyes screamed murder.

“Hi sunshine…” he began pompously.

“Hmmm…” Rekha replied, her boss had evidently given her work. Or so Shyam thought. He was leaning nonchalantly on the cubicle wall. He could not see what she was up to. But given her fierce concentration – he was sure it was important. He deflated.

_________________ 

Viru had just pinged. “Ah! Viru…” she thought.

“He is so clever with his words…so very entertaining”

She gave a slight sniff…

“A strain on the eyes though…” she smiled with the evil thought.

And a very interesting chat conversation ensued – the details of which shall always be shrouded in mystery. If older folk with reserved sensibilities only read what Rekha was capable of writing on chat – they would balk and those with artificial pacemakers would collapse. And suddenly there was Shyam perched atop the cubicle wall in all his grinning glory.

“And here’s the strain on the brain…” she thought to herself and gave her characteristic little sniff.

Shyam kept grinning for a while and after he realized that Rekha wasn’t going to look up - sidled away. This was not the way he hoped to be treated! After all he reserved his ‘Sunshine’and the ‘the thousand watt smile’ (a.k.a the grin) routine only for special people!

“No matter…” he thought.

“Time for the heavy artillery…” and he sidled off to the nearest shop to buy a gargantuan collection of flora that could inspire Rekha to start a second hand florist business.

__________________

The eyes were watering by now and Raghu had to blink. He was joyous that Shyam was given the short end of the stick, but was highly disturbed owing to the smug expression that now rested on the face of his sidling adversary.

“Evil man has a plan…” he thought.

It took some highly sophisticated sleuth work of making a phone call to the pani puri wala standing outside that Raghu came to know what Shyam was upto. It horrified the living daylights out of the poor soul.

“OMG! She will be his… OMG! She will be his… OMG! She will be his…”

The floor witnessed a profusely sweating and incoherently muttering Raghu make a beeline towards the supermarket. He had to do something!

“Time to bring in the heavy artillery…”

Any self respecting man adequately proficient in the art of wooing women would have easily guessed that Raghu was going to buy chocolates.

__________________

Viru was sweating as well. Rekha had mysteriously stopped responding on chat. This was unlikely. For eons (2 days) she responded with a ‘Hiiiii’ and a smiley. But no more. Viru’s linguistic skills were not upto the mark??

“No no no no no …” he rubbished the thought with a smattering of negatives.

“Time to bring in the heavy artillery…” he thought resolutely.

Viru ignored the gossiping les miserables and swiftly embarked upon stringing apparently similar sounding words together in order to create a poem that could – he thought – bring her back to chat. His heart would twitter merrily even as the window would ping with her lovely messages. Although - sometimes she could be deliciously nasty as well.

If only all this resolve would be directed towards work – Viru would have been floor manager. But again – that’s speculation and a more conducive environment minus Rekha.

Speaking of environment – the rest of the species (less fortunate females) spewed ugly venom whenever they were not within earshot of the girl. They imagined and indulged in downright Neanderthal discussions regarding her character and demeanor.

Viru’s heart ached – he wanted a look at sublimity. He leaned backwards (he could see her cubicle). Horror of horrors – she was talking to somebody on the phone and curling her hair with fingers!!!

“This can’t be – it just can’t be…”

He looked around wildly for his adversaries. Shyam and Raghu were nowhere to be seen. He shifted uncomfortably on the other cheek. She was apparently oblivious to the instant poem that he had created. In fact, she was packing up for the day.

“Oh for the love of God, she’s going without even looking at the poem…”

Viru fired up the printer but then indulged in some virtual coaxing by uttering sweet nothings to it after it wheezed and died on him. He did not waste an instant and pulled out his trusty pen drive to get a printout and show his labor of love to the love of his life.

“Where’s Viru off in such a hurry?!” thought Rekha as a hyperventilating Viru dashed out right in front of her looking very psychotic.

She click – clacked on the floor towards the elevator. There was nobody since she was leaving a little early because of the phone call. (Ahem Ahem)

She descended gently onto the ground floor and click – clacked her way towards the sliding doors of Symmetrix BPO.

From nowhere three vortices emerged with a frenzied energy. One looked like a bedraggled bouquet holding wilting flowers, the other holding five squelched chocolates and waving them about in an aphrodisiacal manner. And the third waving sheaf’s of paper with literature on them adept at wooing cows.

She smiled kindly at all of them even as a Beamer pulled up near her. Dinesh (the insignificant guy) stepped out it.

“Guys, meet my fiancé!” she trilled merrily - Again giving her characteristic sniff.

There were three loud pops