June 21, 2011

The Reason..


The world's asleep, but I'm wide awake
Thoughts of mine, are having their own take.
Why did all this happen, why to me?
For what mistake am I. paying the fee?

     My heart skips a beat honey, even now, for you
     Yet You and I turning Us, forever remains due.
     Got you to believe, on you did I cheat
     Its for your good did I, get the act neat.

For your love-bound eyes, life with me seemed nice
But you couldn't see honey, things you had to sacrifice.
I know you would give it up , with all your heart
But you deserve to have all that, every single part.

I know I'd be your family, you'd take my surname
But why lose your present one, just for the same?
You'd choose me over them, given a choice any day
Yet that hollow in your life, would forever and ever stay.

 
 I took you for a ride, is what for now, you believe
That's enough for me, from your heart, to take leave.
For breaking your heart, I shall take, all the accuse
I just didn't want you at the crossroad, having to choose.





Until next time,
Chandana C. Shekar

June 9, 2011

Dream of life... A story.

Hey everybody, Hope you'll doing fair and fine. Well, this is a story I wrote a year ago. Had featured on N-zine then. Just re-posting it here on my space now..

Dream Of Life
 

There it was, right in front of her. She had aspired for it since she was a ten year old kid. Two more months, and she was gonna live it! The admission notification from the University of Duke, North Carolina, USA was in her very own hands! Megha, a young doctor,a fighter by default, knew that Duke would be the only place where she would train to become a Surgeon. 'To become a Doctor' was never her dream. "To become a Surgeon at 'The Duke'" was always what she had dreamt of. That had driven her through all her exams and all her grades, ever since school.


Megha, was from an upper middle class educated family. Her parents had got her everything she wanted. Everything she could probably have. But admission to the University of Duke, that too for General Surgery, was far from imagination. She realized this only after entering Medical College. Her parents couldn't do anything for her. Neither would Letters of Recommendations from India work nor would any money. She would be considered a Foreign Medical Graduate and she needed the highest scores and hell a lot of research papers and publications in medical journals. Her classmates said that she was being foolish that she was trying for this. She was told to shift to another university or another branch. Duke was the USA Top 4 after all! But Megha knew what she wanted. She had nurtured the dream since the time she had visited the University on a trip when she was just in class 5, and she wouldn't let go of it now. She knew this was all she had to do to make herself and her parents happy. This was their only purpose of living, and she trusted herself. She believed in her dream.

One fine day, while picking up a book at the library, Megha bumped into somebody. Somebody, who she felt was the most handsome guy in the world. Preet. A senior of two years. Silence ruled as though they were paying due respect to the library rules! Little did Megha know then, that Preet had felt the same way she did! College days passed by, two hearts and souls met. And as in all love stories, Megha and Preet never realised.

Visits to the malls and movies, those late night talks and rides on the bikes, smiles and tears, Megha and Preet had everything between them as every other couple would. The only difference was that they never thought about the future. Not even when they said "I love you for life". Megha cleared the Step one of the USMLE exam in her second year of college itself. She knew there was no turning back now.She had two more Steps to clear the exam, and she would even kill for it. Three more years of blissful love, Megha and Preet were the happiest couple their college ever saw. Preet got a Radio diagnosis post graduation admission in a prestigious institution in Delhi. All of a sudden it dawned on Megha that he would live in India for the rest of his life! What would she do in America? But Preet saw through her. He knew the depth of her dream. And he knew he wouldn't let that get shattered. Not for anything. He had then said, 'I shall take care of it. You don't worry." That was enough for her. She trusted him.
Megha strived hard. 'Duke' meant the world to her now. Nevertheless, she lost hope on quite a few occasions. She was backed up by Preet every single time she went low. She used to be back on her feet when he used to say, "Don't let anybody stamp on you. Not even yourself". She knew he was her back-bone and was more than glad to have him in his life. She gave all her exams, attended interviews and sat at home with fingers crossed. She was tired. She had done everything she could. She was sure nobody else would be more eligible than her. Be it research papers or scores or clinical skills.

And this day, this moment, when "The University of Duke" had sent a letter asking her to join in, the first phone call she made had made her smile vanish into thin air.

"Why can't you try USMLE? You're not particular about any university, so you can get into anything you get. And you sure will get into a good one!".

"It's not that Megha. My parents can't afford the expense. I can't burden myself with so much of a loan. Plus, I like the lifestyle back in India and I can't leave my parents behind."

"Preet, why didn't you tell me all this then?I would have tried to..."


"Don't Megha...I loved you. And I wouldn't let your dream get shattered. Not for anything in this world!"


"I dreamt of living with you too. Come on,don't you know that I love you?!!"


"Honey, In order to gain something in life, you ought to lose something"

Silence prevailed. It spoke for itself. Both of them understood what was being said. She went weak in her knees. She felt helpless, and hopeless too.

She was still on the phone when she heard "Hurraayyy!!!" from behind her. It was her family and friends. Everyone important to her was present there, except for Preet. Cheering her for the "Big day", it was then. There were smiles on everybody's face, tears of joy in her parents' eyes. She was hugged and blessed and congratulated. There was a cake for her to cut, champagne to open, and a huge banner which read, "Congratulations girl, for achieving the only dream you ever dreamt!"

"My only dream?". She stood there. Unable to live the moment she had dreamt for, more than the number of times she had even blinked.
 
Until next time,
Chandana C. Shekar

June 5, 2011

Mug Mug ki Kahani

 Once a friend asked me, "Do you drink coffee for the sake of coffee or for coffee mugs?". Arre yaar, coffee is for coffee sure. But then, what's wrong in making the experience a little bit more rich and enjoyable if we add it up with nice coffee mugs? Coffee mugs have always been a favourite of mine. I have quite a collection(including the ones my sister broke).

Coffee is my favourite drink. I have coffee for partying and for therapy. Coffee is my saviour when I'm low and sleepy and my partner when I'm happy and relaxing. Coffee stays with me in whatever mood I am in. And hence, the mug collection gets it own use. My use of mugs depends on my mood. The black and white ones when I'm totally sober. The Las Vegas one when I'm in a party mood. The mickey mouse one when I wanna have just plain milk (reminds me of my childhood) and so on..

I stay away from my family. Friends parted ways in search of a career just the way I did. So its obvious I miss those sweethearts and wish I could relive those moments spent with them. And then comes a way I soothen it down a bit. Most of my mugs are gifted by my loved ones. so each mug gets back a memory when used and the soul smiles. The green one with the flowers came from my best friend - the first birthday gift I got from him. The pirate one from another friend. The small brown one from another friend , which cost 15 rupees then and of which, 10 were his and 5 were mine. The dark green one was something Mom bought for me in Pondicherry. Kinda is a memoir of that nice trip with Mom. There is another mug missing in the snap. That's a mug that my sister bought for my birthday after 15 months. Yeah right! She got it for me after my next birthday! The tea-pot is the one my aunt used to keep my tea in during my late night study sessions-the only time that I used to have tea..Well, aise hi.. It goes on.

Life's a bucket full of tiny droplets called moments. And for the short life we have, we need to live all those moments to the full . So whats wrong in associating moments with mugs? Every mug has a kahani. Every mug has a memory. And when I sit back to relax everyday with a cuppa after a tiring day , when the mug brings back those memories while coffee heals my soul, that's enough to get a smile on my face. Well, I enjoy my coffee experience. And that's all that matters.. :)

High on caffeine,
Chandana C. Shekar

June 3, 2011

My Memories of Mysore Monsoons..


"Hey, awesome rain da. Masalpuri or Jola?"..The same sms would be sent to all friends. This was just a bit more than a year ago. Masalapuri with friends, my favourite thing during monsoons and the thing I miss the most when it rains nowadays. With all friends moving out of Mysore in pursuit of a great career, masalpuri in our lives has indeed become 'C/O footpath'. It rained amazing this evening. I was sipping a cuppa all by myself sitting in my balcony, and I just couldn't help get lost in memories.


Monsoons are always magical. Rains make you feel Nice, Great, Ecstatic. The shift in the air due to the smell of sand when it rains , is a kind which every soul would love. All it did to me today was make memories dance along on my mind like waves at sea. Be it running out to play in the rain when we were kids or walking(read dancing) back home slowly from school to enjoy the rain, trying to catch the rain drops and our moms running out to catch us and taking us in and hurriedly wiping our heads with a towel saying , 'you will catch a cold'. Unable to go get drenched again, we watching the rain from the balcony after that, and  making those paper boats and running out as soon as the rain stops to let them sail in the water downstream; spotting the rainbow and reciting the VIBGYOR mnemonic as know-it-alls!! Well, everybody would have enjoyed their monsoons as kids. Dancing on the puddle and seeing whose white socks would turn total brown first was one thing that me and a friend would always do as kids. Stretching our hands out of the class window to reach the rain and the teacher giving us those killer stares; me playing the responsible elder sister by holding the only umbrella I had for my kiddo sister while walking her from her class to our rickshaw when I was in class five and she in kindergarten- my childhood monsoon memories would never end.

When my friends and I were rehearsing for a dance competition on my terrace and it started to pour hailstorms, throwing them at each other was as though we were playing in the snow. Mom came to call us in and there she goes, all the hailstorms thrown at her!! And as we all know, happiness is contagious. :)

A little ahead in time, when in high school and my first crush happened, and as destiny had had it, the pregnant clouds rumbled and showered,and boom! the filmi scene happens! Well,maybe from the black-and-white film era, but still, for the 'padaakus' that we were then, the aankhon hi aankhon mein and he lending me his umbrella and my 'thank you' still stays an engraved memory. After all, first crush and first rains you see;).

College life, when all the luvvy-duvvy stuff started, monsoons always came with a cue for romance.The first rain drops made the most romantic rain-song linger on, and a smile, was just for that one special person. Nobody to blame, music and romance have gone hand in hand since ages. From 'pyar hua ikraar hua' from Shree 420 to  to 'rim jhim rim jhim' from 1942 A love story to 'mere khwabon mein jo' from DDLJ to 'Barso re' from Guru and our very own, very soothing 'Mungaaru maleye..', the subtle connection between rain and romance and dreams can never fade. My college campus was an amazing one and it was all the more awesome when it rained. Hot coffee and pakodas with friends at the nescafe outlet we had there was just the next best thing to having the same at home with family. Sitting at nescafe, enjoying the company and relishing the coffee, we would watch the rain fade from a downpour to a gentle faint drizzle. The after-rains were always beautiful. And this was where our gossip session would start too. Watching the boyfriends pick their girlfriends from the girls' hostel gate and heading away on their bikes and cars for their drives and the like in full zoom and sometimes, we taking on their role, Gosh! We never got tired of it.

Be it the spiritual oldies or the fun loving us, I'm sure Chamundi Betta is the favourite adda of every single Mysorean. Its a pleasure to watch betta disappear into the rain and then reappear all the more beautiful. And to watch this from your very own terrace, which other city would have such an advantage? A drive or a ride to Betta when it rains is the best thing to lift up anybody's spirits. If you're riding pillion at Betta and it starts to rain, its the best feeling to have your arms wide open, eyes closed, face up and welcome the rain. And to go with it, what a beautiful view of Mysore with the mist and clouds forming a veil over it! The Amba Vilas Palace emerging out of the mist looks all the more Royal.

Betta was a beautiful view from my hospital too. And there were times when it looked so serene that we friends missed the afternoon class to drive to betta in the faint, soft drizzle and feel the gentle,lazy breeze brush through our hair. That was the best replacement we could ask for a boring afternoon lecture.  The times spent there and the snaps clicked are a treasure for sure. Clicking snaps at the view point, with Mysore supposedly in the backgraound, when it rained and mist covered the city, all we could get as the background was the white mist. And then, after a while, the mist would disappear slowly and there you go, such an breath-taking view. And the camera used to go 'click' 'click' again. Many friends shifted under one umbrella for a snap, then looked at Mysore and said ,'Mysore eshtu chenna alla?'. Going up the hill further for a cup of hot steaming coffee, Those were the moments that were really candid. Sitting and chatting for hours at Barista or going dancing at Hookah ain't gonna replace such times for sure.


For a fast flashback of other such memories, there were these times when, the clouds gave an unexpected delivery and the first rains took us by suprise. They say that the best things happen to you when you least expect it, and rains are no exceptions. Going on a two wheeler ride when it rains and then shouting 'son of a b****h' to the car-wallah who splashed a mud puddle at us; watching the Palace in awe when it along with its reflection in the water puddle in front of it made an attempt to illude illusion itself; the makeshift arrangement of their gaadis and small shops by the vendors at the roadside or the Devraja Market and the fast pace at which they do it sure adds to the vibrance of that place.

Rains have seen all our emotions-blissful smiles to walking aimlessly with slower than the snail footsteps to hiding tears amidst the raindrops. Rains sure touch our soul, deep.When we get drenched in whatever city we are, the rains make us miss the ones we had in Mysore. Maybe a tear would take a peek then. Hope the rains of that city would help us hide it..


Lifes changing. Friends parted ways. They went miles away to make their career. I too bid adieu to this beautiful city which has been my abode since the time the surfactant acted on my lungs and breath happened for the first time. We depart to arrive and you arrive to depart. Have to move on for the better and bigger things in life. But deep down, there is a voice that says, Mysore is home, and home is where the heart is. Whatever may happen in life, whereever we are, this is the place we are gonna head back when we need to 'relax'. The city we would head to might not treat us well or ask too much of us. But come what may, however low we fall and feel, we know for sure, Mysore is gonna be there for us. We are always welcome here.


They say, "your past never leaves you.". But at times, we wouldn't want to let go of our past. That's when past turns into memories . After all, such memories are the ones that bring a smile on our face when we are away and lonely. And then does the dialogue 'How I wish it happened again' gets conceived. Ahh! I started writing this because I missed home. And now, I miss it even more. If history ever repeats, I would surely want those good old days to repeat again...and again...and again.

Until next time,
With love and care,
Chandana C. Shekar