Here's What I Remember

Here's what I remember 

Fallen leaves, stolen from ground,

Wind, you thief!

The shocked twigs were around. 

Oh! How the leaves rustled... 

My book witnessed it too.

Scared, it closed its pages,

But the cover was hardbound.

That squirell, too, stopped... stunned,

Dropped its brain for a moment,

Then ran with an eerie glimpse,

Its nutty treat shunned.

What were we to do? 

I picked up my book, assuring it.

And You...

The dried daisy, laminated

And the remnant words, 

It was no small feat.

We left for that corner snack point later,

With the glass panes and a taste of butter. 

Here's what I remember ...

But I would never whisper to the breeze,

The scent of each element there ...

Colors detailed in three thousand hues, a tease.

Heartbeats and voices, definingly attuned,

And the taste of laughter, envy of trees.

Here's what I remember 

Wisteria walls, a lavender sight,

Pinks peeking through them 

And the gaze of those eyes.

A bag of cluttered souvenirs,

Sighed, exasperated, 

Beneath the ramen counter.

The ginkgo leaf, a gifted charm letter, 

Swinging into the evening leap,

Listened volumes, 

Never letting a syllable slip.

Here's what I remember...

But I would never let the lips take the stage...

The crema on that iced long black,

Waiting to be tasted;

Or trace the essence of your breath.

The rhyming fountain cycling secrets, 

Eavesdropping to behold those fragrant words.

The time stopped by, a passerby in pose.

(Imposter!) 

The sakura twigs gloated

Of the warmth and charm upclose.

Here's what I remember 

Stilled in pages and memories , 

As the moments froze. 

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The Lavender Box

The travel-memory boxes glanced

From the glass shelves like every other day. 

Calling out to me with their ounce of hope,

As if they have lot to say.

I picked up the one covered with lavender satin.

It was from the summer of 2017.

The inner fabric was still bright

But the exteriors had faded, 

From the sun's golden light.

The box had a receipt of the cafe

The one with the dartboard from across the street

The printed letters had ashened

But the handwritten message on it

Still smelled sweet. 

A letter, a ribbon, few bills,

And that leaf from the park,

Some muted, some still same, 

And few with some marks,

Chronicled the anecdotes, the conversations, 

And the stories,

Like they would never let go

Of those days of glories.

The faded fabric and the marks

Didn't matter anymore,

When the travel-memory box

Brought its core to the fore.

Aren't memories too, mysteriously alike? 

We think they have faded into oblivion,

But a trifling touch paints everything radiant 

Within a second's strike.

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Raahi Chaand

महकी हुई सन्नाटों में वो चाँद आहें भरता है आज भी 

महफ़िलों के उन चँद रंगों को वो निहारता है आज भी 

हैं ये दिन हसीन और शामें जवाँ अब भी मगर 

नर्म मुस्कानों में वह बातें याद करता है आज भी 

थे कुछ अनकहे से लफ्ज़ अब भी बाकी शायद 

उन लफ्ज़ों की शिकायत निगाहों से करता है आज भी

नज़र की नज़ाकत चाहे पलकों से घिरे रहें मगर 

तारों को रोशनी के किस्से बेबाकी से सुनाता है आज भी 

किस्तों में बादलों से मिलना होता है कभी कभी मगर 

उनसे समंदर का हाल-ए-दिल वो पूछ लेता है आज भी 

वह लहरें जो बेक़रारी में क़रार ढूँढती थीं तब 

उनके शिकवे में दास्तानों की गूँज सुनता है आज भी 

कुछ कहानीयों में राहों का आगाज़ रहता होगा शायद 

हर कहानी के मोड़ में जाने क्या राह तलाशता है आज भी 

रास्तों मे अक्सर भटकते होंगे राही मगर 

पर क्या भटका राही मंजिलो से ख़फ़ा रहता है आज भी? 

Copyright © 2025 One Life To Live. All Rights Reserved

A Pinch of Salt

It must have been a midsummer night's dream. That was how inexplicable it was. Everything about that moment felt unreal — the cab to the airport, the boarding pass, even the bag that was packed haphazardly at the last minute. But the only thing that made it seem real was what transpired on that penultimate bridge as I felt the misty air against my skin, just before reaching the airport.

*********

T-12: It was Saturday, the last working day of the week. Unlike most days, I decided to walk back home. I put on my "On my way to Pluto" playlist (it had been quite a while listening to that playlist), took the last sip of water, and headed out.

I might not have realized it then, but that fact registered itself, sneakily enough if I may add.

Like most days, ideas and thoughts started flooding in... as they do whenever I am on the move. But this time, most of the thoughts were were linear, extremely linear to even be defined. I noticed that, but I let it go for the moment and just enjoyed the mildly dusty foliage. Though it usually takes a little over 20 minutes, that day it took me 27 minutes to reach home. I might not have realized it then, but that fact registered itself, sneakily enough if I may add.

T-10: I kept pondering what to have for dinner. I had already been doing that food selection thing for over 30 minutes. The problem was not the vast majority of available choices, rather the absence of it. Whatever I wanted to prepare, I was at least a few ingredients short. A tinge of frustration was already seeping in. That's when I decided I need to go somewhere. Anywhere. 

The next day being Sunday worked in the favor of the plan. I looked up the places I wanted to (and could) go. Thankfully, with only a 15-minute search, the place (we will call the place as P) and the travel times got finalized. The flight was at 6 AM, and the return flight from P was at 7 PM, which meant I would be home by 10:30 pm or so. 

T-8: Everything was in place. All necessary phone calls were made. I had also informed the cab to pick me up at 3 AM. Since it was a day-trip, there was nothing much to pack. A change of clothes, chargers, and a couple basic necessities (as a backup) were stuffed into a backpack. With all preparations done, I slept off, or at least tried to do so. 

...only a few people know how randomly things are decided and they get done sometimes. 

T-3: The cab arrived on time, thankfully. And in no time, I was on my way. Though people around me might know me to be a person who always has a set schedule and itinerary, only a few people know how randomly things are decided and they get done sometimes. 

Even if this wasn't the first ever random and abrupt travel plan, it surely had added uncertainties. If I happen to miss my flight from the P airport, or for some reason it gets delayed or cancelled, I wouldn't get another flight until the next morning. Considering I had to be at work by 8 AM the next day, that could be considered a risk factor. Even though I was aware of that, I wasn't thinking about it (actively) then. 

The airport was a little over an hour away (considering the time). It was still dark. And a bit misty. The roads stood still with an air of mystery. And that eerie setup led me to wonder a lot of What ifs.

...and all that happened afterwards was just a dream of a hunger-fed mind!?

What if I was dreaming? What if I had fallen asleep while thinking about what to eat, and all that happened afterwards was just a dream of a hunger-fed mind!? What if I am not actually taking this journey, but my dream-being making me feel so?

I tried to remember what I had for dinner, or if I had dinner at all, but I couldn't recall anything. The absence of human activities outside wasn't helping. The cab crossed a few rivers on the way, which were always there, but their appearance in the dark seemed different. That was slowly cementing the confusion of everything being a dream. 

I knew I needed a way to confirm, a way which will jerk me off of this dream, if that's what this was. I requested the driver of the cab to halt at the next bridge for a few minutes. He agreed but asked me the reason. I told him that I had a task and it will only take a few minutes. He didn't ask anything further, and halted the car a few steps before the bridge. That was the penultimate bridge before the airport and if I had to wake up, it must be now. 

That leaf was from one of the trees I met everyday on my way to work. 

I walked the few steps to reach the middle of the bridge. I looked at the water, calm and flowy. I could feel the misty breeze on my face. I opened my bag and found the leaf that I had been carrying with me for over a month. That leaf was from one of the trees I met everyday on my way to work. This leaf had landed on my shoulders and I had decided to keep it with me. Until that moment. 

I took a close look at the leaf. It had dried up but still carried its signature and identity. I bade the leaf goodbye and offered it to the river. I kept looking as the leaf wavered and danced while it went on to meet the river. I felt another gush of cold air on my face. Somehow, I was now sure of all this not being a dream, though it still felt dream-like. I am not too sure what it was.

I came back to the cab. And we moved on. The flights were not on time but there wasn't anything drastic that would/could have worried me. Nothing happened as I had planned, for there were none. Things just happened... from an amazing breakfast to a scrumptious lunch, from wandering the paths less traveled to shop for the food ingredients that I missed the night before; everything that could have happened... happened, without an elaborate schedule or plan. 

And what is better, plans working out or plans not working out?

There are things that were never supposed to be the way they are now. And there too are things that happened as was always intended. That is how life progresses, possibly. How do we know which plans will work out and which ones won't? And what is better, plans working out or plans not working out? Everything will make sense eventually if we take it with a pinch of salt. And if it still doesn't, a mystery here and there can be a sweet deal too. What say? 

Copyright © 2024 One Life To Live. All Rights Reserved

An Anecdote Away 2 : Magic in the Mundane

The day that it was slowly becoming was not what anyone, even I, would have expected it to be. Well, I really don't know where and when the day actually began, but for the sake of convenience, let's say it started when I got ready to leave for the airport. 

It was 3.30 am. I was all packed up to leave. Normally, I pack extremely light, a regular back-pack which houses my electronics, a pair of clothes, and two books. However, this time I was going away for 2 months, which meant a backpack was not going to do the trick. I had luggage to check-in.

I kept the bags ready by the door, re-checked the house, and waited for the clock to strike 3.45 AM, which was when the cab was supposed to arrive. But it did not. Many phone calls, efforts, panicking thoughts, and desperate prayers later, somehow the cab arrived at 4.15pm, taking away the buffer time allocated for both cab delay and travel time.The first and the smallest hurdle had been taken care of. 

I reached the airport on time, thankfully. However, the flight, originally scheduled at 6.20 am was delayed by 2 hours. That meant letting go of my breakfast plans. At 7 am, while still waiting for the delayed flight, I called the restaurant and cancelled my reservation. Now, this would seem insignificant to many, but cancelling reservations or any appointments are tough. The severity is like going back on a promise. And if it involves food, it feels like a double blow to your heart - ask someone who loves food. 

It was an hour-long flight. I just had a few hours of work in the city, after which I would take my next flight, scheduled at 6 am the next morning. So, I opted to avail the airport cloakroom services (the 9-hour package by when I would definitely be back) to drop off my bag. I grabbed the tallest cup of coffee to keep off any possible drowsiness (courtesy of not getting a wink of sleep for the last 27 plus hours), took a cab, and off I went to the first meeting of the day. 

This is just for context of how the day was supposed to be, but I think this paragraph may be skipped if context is something that can be done away with. It was almost 10 am by the time I got the cab. My first meeting was at 11 am and all the work was supposed to get over by 2 pm. I had a lunch reservation at 2.15 pm at a restaurant just a stone's throw away from the place of work. I had planned to go to a gallery after that, be there for an hour, and then be back at the airport well before 6.30 pm. I would then collect the bag, check some stores at the airport, have a relaxing long dinner at that fun Japanese restaurant at 7.30 pm (the restaurant was just 5 minutes walk from the drop-off/departure points), and then wait in the lounge until my next flight. 

As the very first line suggested, nothing went as per the plan. I had to cancel my lunch reservation too. The work extended much beyond the expected hours, but the output was disheartening. It took much more than double the time I had allocated it, but didn't yield even a fraction of the result that was expected. The reserves of sunshine a person can hold runs low sometimes, especially when it is fuelled by lack of sleep, uninspiring work results, and an entire day with just a cup of coffee (for a person who is not used to caffeine).

I reached the airport after 7.30 pm, an hour late than when I was supposed to collect my bag from the cloakroom. I decided to not cancel my dinner reservation; I didn't have an ounce of strength left to do that. The restaurant anyway was just 5 minutes away. I went ahead with dinner, my first meal in 30 hours. However, again against expectations, I couldn't enjoy the dinner whole-heartedly... for worrying thoughts kept looming over me. Please don't misunderstand, the food was absolutely amazing but I was extremely tired... so tired that I feared if I rest in the lounge, I might not wake up to board the flight. 

After a quick dinner, I reached the cloakroom, two and a half hours later than I was supposed to collect my luggage. I was ready to pay the fine but arriving after the time slot that I had ticked on that form weighed down on me more, perhaps more than when dark clouds weigh down on an already gloomy sun-less day. After the allotted time slot expires, uncertainty creeps in, like unresolved shadows. The person in-charge might have experienced that uncertainty. And it's definitely not a good feeling. I was ashamed and knew apology is not enough. Nevertheless, apology was a must. Upon reaching the cloakroom, I did exactly that... I apologized, as much as I could. 

The person in-charge, let's call him N, smiled throughout and kept saying, "it's okay. I can understand." N was extremely polite and the owner of a pleasant and comforting smile. When I tried to hand over my card to pay the fine, he said, "you must have paid for the service when you dropped off your bag." I said that I had paid, but this is for the fine that I am supposed to pay for the delay. And I apologized again. He replied that he would waive it off. When I insisted, he said, "It's completely okay. It wasn't that long anyway. I understand you might have had a tough day. You don't have to pay anything extra." He smiled, again.

I was extremely grateful. I had nothing with me that I could give as a token of appreciation and gratitude... except for my custom made bookmarks. I opened my luggage for the bookmarks, wrote a gratitude note, and then went back and gave N a set of bookmarks along with the note. I thanked him and he thanked me back. His earlier smile of understanding now reflected a smile of being appreciated, perhaps with a hint of graceful happiness.

Afterwards, I debated whether to go to the lounge or just dwindle around for the entire night. I strolled around for 30 odd minutes which made me realize I couldn't go on like that. I grabbed another tall cup of coffee and checked into the lounge. I requested them to call me up by 3 am, lest I fall asleep. They suggested that I have enough time if I want to take a nap, and I should because I looked exhausted.

Until they told me so, I had not realized that I too might look exhausted. When I think back, the server at the restaurant looked concerned and N's initial reaction when I first apologized too had a hint of concern. I misread/ignored those expressions back then. Did I look that pathetically exhausted for them to get concerned, I wonder. With these and some other unassociated thoughts, I took a rest in the lounge but I couldn't sleep, the caffeine was doing its job, even working overtime. 

I checked out of the lounge a little before 3 am, checked in for my flight, which thankfully was on time, and checked the few shops inside the airport that were still open. Even though I had not slept in 48 hours by then (which would later on extend to 60 hours), I still didn't sleep during the flight. I was perhaps physically drained off my strength, but the kindness that I received surely did boost my spirits. N's smile and his kindness did help refill the reserve of my sunshine too. A nice breakfast, sleep, and later some familiar faces helped in further refilling the reserve. Often things that are otherwise considered mundane... are actually magical. 

Copyright © 2024 One Life To Live. All Rights Reserved

Food and Love

It was almost twilight. The rains had slowed down a bit by then. I was jostled with apprehensions and was juggling myriads of thoughts and emotions until I reached the cottage hotel. On reaching the hotel, the host and his team welcomed us with the warmest of smiles, some amazing home-baked cookies, and a comforting cup of hot Kashmiri Qahwa.

The warm reception by the team and the steaming cup of Qahwa melted all my apprehensions and worries. That was the first food that welcomed me to Kashmir. And what a beginning it was! Splendid, in every sense! In true way, it set the tone for the rest of my stay in the valley.

After the quick snack, we retreated to our room. After an hour or so, one of the staff members came to ask for our choice for dinner. There was no menu to choose from, just like we do not have in our homes. We could request for anything as long as the requisite grocery is available in the kitchen pantry. On further discussions, we got to know that Kashmiri rajma (kidney beans), unlike other rajmas, need not be soaked before cooking. That sounded interesting to us; ergo we chose it as one of our options for dinner. The dinner was delectable, to say the least. It had the comfort of dinner at home. What started with the cookies and Qahwa was cemented further by the dinner and I was finally at home, completely.

Food truly is an emotion. Good food, cooked with love and served with care, can establish an unfathomably strong bond, and can connect memories and emotions.

The next day I walked into the dining room for breakfast with the same feeling as I would have at my home. I knew whatever will be served will be something that I would definitely connect to- something that would have the solace of some happy, and amiable memories. And it was. Aloo ke paratha was just the way I would have liked. What better way to start your day! Normally, when on a trip, we prefer to visit other restaurants for lunch and/or dinner. However, this time it was different. We lived there for five days and we chose to have food there whenever chance favored.

We never missed any dinner there except once when we went out to a restaurant which I had in my bucket list for that trip. That restaurant was somewhere near Lal chowk area, which apparently was a place for protests and not as safe (as per some news media). Our host offered to drop us to the restaurant. Such warming gesture- who does that now-a-days! We did not want to be of inconvenience to him, but he insisted.

So, that evening, he accompanied us in his car till the restaurant. On our way there, we discussed about a lot of fun things. The songs in his playlist were some of the jewels of 70s and 80s music, which also happened to be one of our topics of discussion. He even sang few of the songs in his soulful voice. It never felt even for a moment that he was not a part of our family or we were there as part of for our trip. It felt as if we are just going out for dinner in our hometown. We halted for a few minutes near Lal Chowk. The place itself spoke about its magnificence and beauty.

On reaching the restaurant, he told us that he will not be joining us for the dinner. We insisted him to join us. He was an amazing company and a warm person. Insisting him to join was never out of question. However, he wanted to have dinner back at home, which we understood and did not force further. Further, he told us to give him a call when we are done with our dinner, so that he can come and pick us back. On listening to this, we were just out of words. I felt gratitude to a level that I never knew before could exist. We went to the restaurant, had Kashmiri Wazwan and some other dishes, which no doubt were scrumptious and brilliant.

During our dinner, we decided that we would not bother him again and we will go back by ourselves. But he, being the chivalrous person that he is, called us to tell that he is reaching to pick us back in 5 minutes. We were just finishing our desserts then. The sweetness of the dessert was nothing compared to the gesture our host showed us. It has been the best family trip we ever have had till date… all thanks to our host, his team, and the people of Kashmir. (You might have noticed that I never mentioned anything about the sightseeing places.) Food, which connects our mortal and immortal forms in some inexplicable way, and the love and warmth of the people made the trip what it was. Soulful!

Copyright © 2021 One Life To Live. All Rights Reserved

The Smiling Fish

Most often than not, I end up not clicking pictures. I would end up eating the food or spend hours together brooding over a scene and the thought of an "instagram worthy" picture would not even cross my mind. The same happens when I'm travelling or visiting a place of interest. I tend to experience the place or the moment more through my eyes than through the camera lens. Not that I never click pictures... I do and I have a fair share of those too... but there are not as much photos as there could have been. 

That day I was visiting an aquatic museum. You know those kinds where you walk through the glass tunnels with the marine life swimming over your heads... yes, those ones.It was a surreal feeling. You very well know that you are not inside the sea, but that won't stop you from the feeling of being underwater. I feel, going alone to such places is a big perk because, that allows you to experience the place solely, while taking all its essence as it was meant to be.

So, there I was, engrossed and awestruck with the beauty and the grandeur of the sea. The shoal of fish were going on with their usual.Though it was a glass wall separating us, it felt as if either the fish were not able to see the other side or they simply ignored so many human beings being there. It must be the later reason because, everyday they witness the same scene. But it wasn't the same for me.  I was completely transfixed with the magic.

It was just the entrance section. After a long while of being there, I realized that the human faces around me has changed... probably multiple times now. I thought about moving to the next sections then. I decided to give a last glance around and be then on the move. That is when I noticed it. 

An adorable fish moved across twice. I felt as if it was looking at me. It had a smile too - or so it seemed to me. I was overwhelmed with joy. It was a funny feeling. It was as if the fish was playing hide and seek. It had that mischievous smile, like when you are hiding in plain sight and you want to test whether the seeker has taken notice of you or not.

I was intrigued by the playfulness of the fish. Thankfully, after a few moments, I remembered to click a picture of that scene. Well, the picture did not capture the entire event as I would have liked it to, but it did capture enough to rekindle my memory to that event of that day. That's what pictures are for right... just to rekindle the experience as a reminder that you have lived through such a moment.

I ended up spending a few more minutes there - until the smiling fish moved to the depths of the sea. With that amazing experience at the very beginning itself, I went ahead to explore the further sections of the aquarium. Every section had it's own marvel in place. Yes, I clicked a few pictures too, though they would probably not do enough justice to the beauty of the entire experience. What a bright beautiful day it was!

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