It was a short, packed, visit to the city of joy on a really pleasant Sunday. Tall buildings in the suburbs offer views that make you forget the chaotic, environmentally challenged areas that we city dwellers spend all our time in. The slogan chanting, not very far away, of a mass of demonetising oppos-ers brought some noise into the the pleasantly chilly, sun-bathed, dining table we were working on. Another sensory organ was immersed with the smell of  frying pomfrets, and the nerves within the cranium rested in happy anticipation of being taken over by the third sense. A gentle salivation was brought about by the subconscious. Neither of us was really aware of it as the neurons were deeply focused on completing a target in time.

There was some time to spare after the quick post-lunch snooze, and in that state of happiness, we decided to take a short trip to that one stop-forest of city dwellers-the mall. A sweet white Samara was purchased to celebrate this meeting. A couple of shoes and some clothes were added, to clutter up the the already space starved apartments. And barbecued chicken wings also went into the bag.

There were a large number of empty spots in the enormous parking area. Those empty spaces were not however found suitable enough to the folks who had parked their car behind ours. Who also perhaps harboured the notion that it is a good habit to disappear after parking a car in such a manner.

I have recently achieved a partial state of inner peace and therefore advised Ma'am to try and back the car and maneuver it though the small space the said car owner had been considerate enough to leave. It would have taken about 25 back and forth movements, and a lot of frustration, but I could see no other way out, My friend was wiser than me and took the decision of fuming as a better way to resolve the impasse. It worked. Soon enough the young chap swaggered towards the car and at the exact moment that his key touched the lock, he got a earful of what my friend thought about his thoughtlessness.

Suspense built up as he moved the key away from the lock and started walking back to where he had disappeared to earlier. Apparently he didn't appreciate that it was not OK to park one's car behind someone else's car, and disappear in a paid and empty parking lot. Apparently we should have patiently waited till he completed whatever he had gone to do, and been grateful for being able to leave at some point of time at least.

The same advise was given to us by one of the many security personnel strolling around the empty parking lot. We should have waited patiently. Period.

My new-found inner peace helped me to resist arguing with the logic-defying logic. I remembered the quote 'Don't argue with an idiot. They'll bring you down to their level and defeat you with experience.' Such wise words. 

The pause of life

Life paused, a long sigh
In memory of the low and high
The plateau is a shade of grey
For stalkers grey is not a prey

The creased brow, is where life paused
Love ended and the pleasure doused
The memories had no recall
When life paused, no not at all

Life just paused and stayed paused
Till came the gentle tap that caused
The pause to stop and gently start
The keys, they played a naughty part
And nudged the motion, a gentle shove
The paused life thus unpaused with love

The new nudged back the old
Into a cliff that had no hold
On that which went in, a black hole

A hapless smile uncreased the brow
A fleeting memory of a cupid's arrow
And trails of lines, a sozzled smile
And a start  anew, like drops of dew
Like a drowning man who grasps at straws
The fleeting memories unpause
The dullness caused when life had paused

Love, sadness

Messi has grown. Ninad has flown the nest. Most of you must have lost the flow in my blog stories. It has indeed been a long time since I last wrote. My inertia overpowers my desire to write but Eff seems to be capable of coaxing this inertia to depart, even if temporarily. Yes Eff is here.

This year seemed to throw multiple tragedies. Eff is in mourning for her mother and I, for Judy. Nasiur's mother was taken to another realm a week after my 10 year gap-ped meeting with him. Despite of the losses, and the inability to shake of the feeling that they still remain -somewhere -everywhere, all of them were released from their physical bodies after prolonged periods of suffering. We know they are in better places, and thankful for that. I know they will be around for eternity. This knowledge somewhat releases us from the overwhelming sadness.

Time heals.

Messi and the immense tender love his mere thought envelopes us with helped with healing. My original baby, Ninad, comes back and forth in sudden randomly timed 'whatsapp' messages and keeps me and Jumi informed about the state of his mind with brown to black emojis of facial expressions and fingers in different positions. The photos of him that I have placed around my house fiercely bring back the same tender love I feel for Messi now.

Ninad, my human born and Messi, my adopted cocker spaniel are my babies and any attempt to mess with them will likely unveil that side of me that occasionally turns up somewhat akin to a mauled tiger. This realisation came to me at different points of time. Ninad brought it out a few years back and Messi brought it out a few months back.

Dogs, like humans, communicate very well. The language is a mystery to us, like so many other things that modern science has yet to be to able demystify, but despite that they can still make us understand what they want, and it is amazing. Messi being an only dog-child, has made a few stray friend from his walks for his daily ablutions. The girl-dogs give out coy barks and try to make shy contacts.

Being an alpha male, Messi makes most males flee when they try to inform him that he is bypassing their territory. Messi refuses to pee or poo inside the house or the boundaries of the apartment complex. When you beg him to once do it inside the house because you are too groggy or cosily tucked into the laptop, he knows what will get you out. His whining and gentle taps soon turn to scratchy ones and small nips till you get up and change your shameful clothes to modest ones to take him out of the house. If you push him out of the room and shut the door inside, he will scratch and scratch and scratch till the same result is achieved.

He knows Mama needs to exercise and lose weight. I think.

I wish I could get him a dog-girlfriend in season, I know he wants one. There is a furry soft toy that I own and I have often seen him look with tender love/lust at it when I put it out of the way. He seems to think of it as a she-dog. It is fear of the domestic help threatening to quit which is preventing me from getting a girl-dog.

Sigh! Life is tough.