The Mystery Man..

I met someone a month ago, who is still a mystery to me. I may not be very good at figuring out people. But this man is beyond anybody’s comprehension. He is so bloody intriguing at times, that it is creepy.

He is tall, dark and handsome. His long hands and perfect stride catches everybody’s attention. His black and bewitching eyes misses nothing. His alluring smile and witty words mesmerizes his listeners. And to top it all he is omnipresent. He has a knack of catching you at the wrong time and wrong place, correctly. He appears out of thin air behind your back exactly when you are cracking a joke about him. Unlike everybody else, he catches you at your wrong act and lets you go free without any punishment. The bottom line is ‘You are being watched!’. It is more than enough to drive you crazy. I have been watching my back every time I even think of him, afraid that he might somehow hear my thoughts too. Absurd, I know but he instigates such terror. The fear of him is so deeply etched into your mind, its like the blood in your veins. You don’t always feel it, but its there. Steadily running through your body, becoming a part and parcel of you.

But there is nothing to fear about him, or so he says. True. He is never harsh. He is hardly ever loud. The words flow from his mouth like the way you spread butter on your bread. Soft, caressing and velvety. He never punishes you for anything, but the warning can be seen in his eyes. He stares into your eyes, probing your mind, scanning your soul, making you feel naked and vulnerable.

He is funny, calculative and creative. Cunning but not criminal. He may not be daring, but shrewd and sharp. He is never in the lime light, but hangs in the background watching every action silently. He is so silent that he is almost invisible to the superficial eyes. He is unfathomable, which pushes you to unravel the mystery around him. The more we rack our brains, the more puzzling he is. He is the mystery man, intriguing you with his eyes, attracting you with his smile, luring you with his words and leaving you puzzled about your past, present and future!

A Friend Who Turned Into A Stranger

It's great when strangers become friends , but shocking how those friends become strangers again.. strange but true....it happened to me too.

We weren’t best of friends before, never had been and I don’t think ever will be. We weren’t the kind of friends who shared and cared. We have always fought with each other, hurled insults at each other at every opportunity. Teased and criticized each other with no mercy. God knows how many times we had plotted each others murder, in the most gruesome ways known to mankind. Yet we were friends, in a weird twisted sort of way. We were friends, and didn’t even realize it. We helped each other without ever being aware of it. Beneath all the hatred, I trusted him and he trusted me. And with that trust came the bond of friendship. A bond which was invisible even to us for the entire time we were together.

But after a year of not talking and not missing each other, one day our paths crossed unexpectedly. Yet it wasn’t the clash of titans, which I had envisioned. It was a void. Emptiness engulfed us so tightly, that we simple committed ourselves to being silent. We were so used to insulting each other, that when asked to be friendly and normal we could only remain silent and distant. We were strangers to each other.

Our squabbles from yesterday may seem childish and immature, but they bound us together through a thin thread of friendship. We grew up and grew out of our childishness, effectively breaking the golden thread of connection between us.

Nothing has changed for us. We are still the same person we were a year before. He is still the same guy with his silly sense of humor, and I am the same girl with my stupid sarcasm. But everything between us has changed. He no more uses his sense of humor to tease me, nor do I use my sarcasm to criticize him.

We were foes yesterday, quarreling and arguing over absurdly trivial things, but hung on to a loose strand of friendship.

We are not foes anymore neither are we friends. The golden cord of friendship between us is lost in the crowd, never to be found again. For now WE are STRANGERS.

Fighting For Rights..The Gandhiyan Way

Nothing was new today morning. I woke up with the usual Monday blues, college makes my Monday more sober than anything. I went about my routines and by 8.55 a.m., I was at the gate of my college. And guess what? The entire male population of the college was standing outside the college. it appeared like they were having a reunion of some sorts,but no. Apparently they all were planning to go on strike. And we didn’t even knew. Figures!

        And the strike was exactly the Gandhian way...no breaking of glasses, no shouting of profanities, no banners or posters or rallies or burning the buses. All of the girls were even allowed into the college. The fun began inside. The Jhansi Rani-s of our college decided that its time we do something productive too. They all paraded out of the college, followed by a few of the stupid and courageous second years. Only to be dragged back in by the staffs. The timid and sensible girls stayed inside. Waiting for the right time, I guess. Only the right time never came. The funniest part was that all the boys were already inside the college. The girls were unaware of this. They marched out with an intention to join them, I suppose. I could never find the real motive.

The guys came to each of our classes and requested us to join them. We tried, but we were blocked again. We didn’t knew where the actual protesting was going on. Or rather for what they are protesting. Trust me, I knew the demands of the strike only by mid day. By then the college announced holidays until further intimation of reopening was given. I guess this is what is called a turmoil. I was all anxious about my unfinished record works this morning, and now I don’t know when the college will reopen. I am still not sure if this is a good thing or bad. The worst part is that, I am not sure if I will participate in the strike. Does that make me cowardly or sensible?? I am yet to find the answers...