Even I had a story . . .

The tanned brownish roasted skin on my face shone under the scorching 2 pm sun with sweat giving the final touches to the excited face. "6 runs of two balls” , I heard my friend bala shout . All of us stood tensed on the field praying for the bowler to do the trick. He came running in like a giant and with a quick twirl of his arm , released the ball. Thud ...the ball went for a four . The thunderous applaud from the opposition deafened my ears . The dismayed looks on the bowlers face aggravated by a several fold frown on his forehead were of no respite to us. "Come on machan..." someone shouted from the field. Just a ball to go. A win wouldn't leave us with a diamond studded trophy , a million dollar prize money announced by the govt or a home at bandra . In fact it was more than that . It would leave us with respect , the honor of walking out of the ground with our heads high and the priceless joy of winning . The bowler wiped the fresh stream of sweat across his forehead. Silence enveloped the ground as all of us stood there tensed . The bowler slowly came running in and with each and every step , the heart beats slowly increased . We all took a deep breath as he released the ball . For the next few Milli seconds every heart stopped . "thud "...the batsmen swung his bat with his full might . "yeahhhhhhh" the ground roared . This time the deafening noise was much more deafening as I had my voice supplementing it .The batsmen was clean bowled . Joy is always described by subtle emotions . But this time the fury of joy teared upon the wildness hidden within us and we all ran towards the center , growling , hooting , whistling and finally the mad scramble ended in a huddle . The sweat from each others shirts , mystically combined to give the intoxicating smell of success . We all stood as one . Victory was ours . "Watha..." we all shouted in unison . The heads stood high and the hands with the fists closed were open towards the all encompassing skies . We had won ...
"Anna , ten rasna packets " I shouted to our indirect team sponsor Mani Anna, waving out the hard earned ten rupee note . "Looks like you guys have won," he jovially asked , handing us our precious rasna packets. "Can anyone beat us? " a victorious arrogant voice retorted back from one amongst us . The boisterous laughter followed with Mani Anna giving us company for everyone of us knew it was our only win after ten matches and that too by a whisker ."watha teamukku oru 'O' podu "..........."Oooooooooohhhhh"the thunder bolted again . What a feeling . I still couldn't believe we had won . I sipped the frozen rasna savoring the taste . After all it had come from my hard earned one rupee . Felt like heaven ....honestly.

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"Beep ,Beep " the mobile buzzed as I was sitting in my office cabin .

"Your account has been credited with Rs XXXXX "

It was the much awaited 31st of the month , but as always the strange sense of emptiness filled me . Its been 2 years and nothing seems to have changed , the emptiness keeps coming back , yet again . I sipped through the insipid tea churned by the coffeemaker , staring out at the vast emptiness of the skies through the stained glass window . A few birds flew happily flapping their wings against the winds , savoring their 'gifted' freedom of an unknown future .Yet another sip went in as I stared at those birds , at the vast blue skies , the stains on the window pane which created mystical blots on my vision of the skies .....I kept staring , lost in an enigmatic sadness which slowly traveled its way forming a lump in my throat .

How I wish ......


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With the bat resting on my shoulders just like you see in the mahabarata serial , I walked along with our team discussing the turning points of the match . We paraded the streets oblivious to the shouts of the autowallahs and other innocent passerbys . We were the winners . Soon the stomach-ache causing laughs followed as we tread to what we do the best - Pulling each one's legs . As always the usual targets of our team were the ones with the maximum carnage caused on their image . What a walk . The trees along the streets seemed to be dancing to our tunes , the vendors seemed to be singing , the breeze gently kissed us ...everyone and everything seemed to be perfect . The laughs , The pride and joy of victory walked alongside with us ....And why not , after all we were the winners

Probably the best walk I ever had in my life........

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There I was walking alone on the lonely streets of kolkata with just a stray dog giving me company on the hope of some food . A chill wind blew ruffling my hair and I gently closed my eyes for a second . And strangely there was no difference . The darkness had already set in . The slow steps , the longing heart which had become a slave to money and the desires buried long back combined themselves and mixed along with the chill wind whispering elegies of unknown languages into my ears . Finally , I reached the ATM , took out some money . Looking at the crisp 100 rupee notes I faked a smile ........yet again.

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"Ma , we won . I hit a six of sudheer's ball . It went off like ............." this was the fourth time I was telling her the same story . Still she listened with the same interest and curiosity . I hugged her and slowly went off to sleep . I dreamt about the match , The last wicket ,the sixes , the dive catches the rasna , the look on the opponent's face.......The entire match had a re telecast in my mind . I kept dreaming .

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I struggled to get sleep as I kept rolling from one side to the other . "Where will my manager ask me to go tomorrow ? Why the fuck am I here ? Why do I have to do this ? Shall I resign ? But its a lot of money . Will I get another job ? What will the world think of me ? Am I a loser???????? . With a storm inside me , I opened my eyes staring at the whirling ceiling fan - my only companion during those several sleepless nights. The clock showed 3 a.m .
Life was a mess.......


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"Ma I am going to play "....
"But its only 6 a.m ..." and before the sleepy voice of my mom could complete I was excitedly walking on towards our ground . Yup , our ground . I kept hitting shadow sixes throughout my walk . "Hi da , lets start " a friend of mine called out .The sun was at its merciless best as always .But who cares , we could brave the heat , the rains and the winds . After all , we were the winners ..... We played for the entire day and cursed it for ending so soon . It felt great and each passing day was a delight.

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"Oh god , Its 7 a.m already ", I banged the alarm , gave a frown which encompasses all the synonyms of frustration . I hoped the day had never begun . Hoped it would end soon . The mechanical life had begun yet again . The running had to start . The leather shoes ,the uncomfortable formals , the ID card which proclaimed me to be a software engineer hung across my neck . I gobbled a banana and set off for 'yet another day' .......

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Well , Its just been sometime and how much life has changed . Those days of joy , dreams , freedom , curiosity have slowly been filled with anxiety , frustration and sadness . As I write this I realize slowly how much I have really missed enjoying life for its simplest pleasures in the mad chase for money which promises the 'mirage' of a secured future and happiness . There were times when I realized there was something majorly wrong in the way I was living my life and I started looking for solace in the endless list of self-help books . But nothing seemed to help . But today as I took some time to dwell into my past , and my so called stories of my life , strangely it had all the answers to my unanswered questions . And I slowly realized the true answer to our search lies within us - Within the stories in which we were the heroes , and within the ones we dismissed of as too trivial . Well we are all heroes , and the stories we all have are one of the best ones ever . As I ponder over my so-called stories , I have finally decided . I am just one week away from my resignation .

After two long years , this day I did what I always wanted to do . Though I am financially poorer , no more a part of the esteemed industry , no more a respected person amongst my family , no more a sensible person according to the society ....I am finally free . Free to do whatever I like just like how I was ten years back . Free from my master called money . I am not really sure how long it will be before I go back to my master . But now at this moment I am free ...And this blog is a humble beginning for my new dream . Beyond the scolds from my English teacher who thought I was a too dumb to write , the fear of what people might think , and beyond my own doubts of whether I could really write something a little better than crap (honestly , I still have it each time I write ) I finally decided to go ahead . And it seriously feels great each and every time I sit down to write . And its heaven when I receive a few comments and the thought "maybe it is just a little better than crap " crops up ( Though I am still not really sure ) .But nevertheless finally I went ahead and did it. And what a difference it made . I finally had the courage to do something just for me . And for those who have read till here , thanks a lot , for unknowingly , you have made someone believe in his dreams and follow his heart. Its just not about the blog , its just about making time to do things which we always loved doing but kept postponing because of the fear of what others might think and because of the innumerable reasons we thought about as to why we wont be able to do it . But finally after all these years a little 5 minutes that I spent while walking across my old school playground , which brought in all those sweet memories , has taught me what I was missing all these days . It was the courage to go about and do something which you really enjoy . For once, finally , I didn't do something for money or to spruce my resume or to impress someone . Feels great......

And if in case you ppl ever get some time off , try switching off your mobile phones , go to your terrace , lie down for once without bothering about the dress getting dirty , plug in a pink floyd , feel the cool breeze in your hair and try recollecting those wonderful stories you had where you were the heroes or heroines, where you did everything you dreamt off , where you wandered with the spirit of an adventurer enjoying the warmth of the sunny afternoons , where you cycled your way towards freedom , nursed your wounds from the first fall like a warrior....The ones which your heart always died to tell to the world and most importantly to YOU . Each of us have a story to tell hidden there somewhere deep within the dust laden chambers of our hearts and you never know your story might just be the answer to what you were always searching for , just like how it happened to me .

For all the heroes and heroines , that's it for now , keep cherishing those golden days while I shall be back soon .

P.S : sorry for the long post