Holiday...

Whats app icon was blinking...another message. I tried not to look at my smart phone and concentrate on my senior. Nodding in affirmative was the key and I did just that.

Hi...what's going on

My message inbox hurled out the words at me as soon as senior was gone. The words were shy, staring at me beneath their long lashes just the way it happened in the Himalayas, foothills of Himalayas rather. Fingers ached to reply..and wait for her reply..Come on what's stopping me...

Nothing much.. missing the Himalayan evenings!

Fingers shot back..would it have the exact effect I wanted..it would..this little hide and seek game with a few words can do wonders and I was good at it. I knew what she would be reading into this..and I knew she'd be wanting for more. Well so long..I was winding my day at work and about to leave the office when the phone rang. Just stared at the number I have known so well, few years now...and wondered at my aversion to pick it up...men...we get bored !Mechanically I picked up the call as I headed towards the elevator.

You are out of office... more a statement than question... Good I'll be there in five minutes

Before I could say much, elevator was there in my floor and all of us waiting stormed in , Divya.. my steady girl friend and to be wife..whom I won out of so many contenders in college hung up. I was about to stuff the phone in my pocket..the chirping of whats app message...I knew the sender, my eyes sparkled in delight as I contemplated her next message, before actually opening it!! 

Are you... 

Two words..yes I am missing the Himalayan evenings damn it.. Just before reaching the parking lot I typed in a hurry...

Aren't you...

How long I will continue this nonsense.. my car sped through the evening city traffic.

The Himalayas, where I went exactly... Dalhousie.. a long due holiday with mom and dad. And there I met her, so young.. fresh...travelling with her aunts. Whose idea was to share the cab I don't remember...nevertheless I was very happy..she had this innocence and that small town look..and I was looking for a nice weekend. The mountains of Dalhousie..anyone would fall in love there..and I was just...well I am a man. The same hotel, and as I was sent to knock at their door to inform that cab was ready...I almost stopped breathing as the door was opened by this...morning beauty to say the least. Obviously I didn't remember much of Dalhousie after that...who would...and I knew this Happy-Go-Luckyness of mine is a sure winner..well I had someone like Divya all over me...and this one would be an easy task. Aah I'm not flirty and selfish as I sound, I knew it would happen with anybody...and winning over each woman was a victory..every woman is unique !Three days... I was taken over by Anwesha.. even the name spelled magic. Dalhousie, Chamba, Khajjiar...and I had more of Anwesha, wanted more of her.

Asking her number was easy, yet I fumbled.

In case I send you a friend request...  I had smiled nervously.

It's fun...this texting, waiting for her texts.. and finally I would call her. It isn't a crime... men even women get into such things...few texts and chats, one doesn't feel guilty because of this. That isn't the problem. Did I want Anwesha..

The light was green, and I whisked my car along. When we started me and Divya.. a few years back..there was this magic of love..we longed for each other,we still do may be but that spell is gone..and i wonder after years of togetherness and under the wheel of ' real life'...where we would stand.

Once way back in childhood ,I got a pine sapling from the hills during a school trip. I planted it at our backyard and watered it regularly. It withered after a few weeks

' Pines do not survive at an altitude less than 3000 feet, son. They are made for the hills'   Dad had explained.

Indeed. Some things are made for the hills, for the holidays... they would wither in plains like my moments with Anwesha.

My car took the service road where I could see Divya waiting impatiently as I pressed delete to erase the chats.

God...

In this land of Gods and Godman sometimes it needs a great deal of skill to survive without a God. Didn,t know exactly when, raised in a family where God was worshiped everyday thrice as a ritual, a special puja being performed every alternate day, fed on a diet of fables i loved to hear from grandma, I stopped believing. It began as a stop gap arrangement what if i don,t believe and actually i started non believing!!     

It was no big deal actually. Initially didn.t get into any arguments with anyone as was apprehensive of being taken as arrogant, may be silly and may be who knew i had to revert to believing again braving any sort of personal crisis. Though logical mind told me resorting to a supreme power to take care of me is only the proof of my weakness and vulnerability and in no way a proof of existence of anyone supreme. The non believing struck slowly and steadily and in a country society and family where religion is strikingly dominant i survived happily. Well i didn,t have to do anything ,didn,t claim myself to be atheist for once and there was no declaration of my non believing. There were still pujas at home though numbers were less with grandma getting old and once or twice i began to question myself at participating and celebrating our yearly most awaited festival Durga Puja but then it was more than religion , it was simply a part of our existence which i can,t deny and i was happily celebrating puja with everyone without being an integral part of the more religious rituals. Was it a dubious existence... it just might be. I was into the fun and happiness of it and deftly avoiding the serious part. Though i admit watching puja being performed with the evening aarti rituals raise a trance like feeling and a series of emotions i do not have much control upon and when following family members or friends after a long queue i face God at a temple and join my hands with closed eyes i do not know what i should do and make way fast for the next devotee waiting anxiously.

So my non believing went on. Gradually was a stranger to all kinds of pujas , vrats ,fasts etc etc and stand awkward, silent in a group where people talk fervently about the rituals. Visiting temples too became very rare and only when i was compelled to. In between life did have very tough and challenging times and i did feel succumbing myself to some divine power who would give me the strength. Does the divine power lead one to do something exemplary, something for the lesser mortals... the questions can be best answered by those who believe. For other confused stressed souls it is simply best not to bother as i try to convince myself i don,t know if God exists if he/she does it,s fine and else it is fine as well.

Well well on a topic where volumes have been written and so much said, where so many preachers and sects thrive can all be brushed off with a wave of hand!!! I do not know really, the emotions, the 

sensations, more exist than normal senses can perceive. The mysteries of the universe yearn for an answer and hence the quest for the supreme being or the storms within the soul or the most mundane a respite a panacea for all ... i have wondered often with no answer of course.

Yet it is difficult to stand your own ground as a non believer, wish the best for your love , child and family , strive hard for success and prosperity and stand nonchalant and non believing and harder to derive the strength from within for a cause , a purpose ,to motivate oneself for a cause other than self. There were and would be moments where i would falter and give up myself and for other times God and me have drifted apart and happily!!

Few more pages...

15th May 2012.. Verdict is out..I wait impatiently for the attachment to download..the order I have longed for..transfer order to Delhi..happiness, joy at the expected news coming a notch earlier..phone calls.. to a husband who is unreachable as usual (being away watching IPL on that night switching off mobile), parents, in laws. Guess my mother in law was the happiest of all..which mother in law would love to see her daughter in law pack her bags and kid off to a far flung place and ' leave' her son ' alone' ( alone in the city of Delhi!!) for a year for the sake of a job..whatever the job might be.

Waves of joy coupled  with a tinge of loss for leaving the place and a feeling of not being able to deliver..deliver what the place deserved. May sound redundant and philosophical after the transfer order but then this one year apart from loving the hills and clouds..mourning for Delhi , husband, planning for leave, suffering bouts of illnesses, blogging at random..what did I do!! Strange question..I did discharge my duties, did what I was supposed to do..and I would have done same in Delhi too,do what I am supposed to do. Then..just an excuse to sigh and get philosophical, my husband would have quipped at once, ' Getting all sad and melancholy is kind of your hobby, pack up your bags and rush off from that place'

I am going to do the same. Pack my bags and flee. Yet I know I have not been honest or not been able to be honest to these hills I claim to love, to the girls who work so hard. Yet I know the seat I hold in my office, the salary and respect it draws I should have been able to do a lot more than just what I am supposed to do. Apart from getting aircraft safely on the ground from my tiny tower, indulging in office gossips, imparting a few english lessons to a part time plumber,being sympathetic to local young office girls, being the ' Agony Aunt' to my young Malayali colleague ,sometimes the protective elder sister making her life a bit smooth in this alien land  there is hardly anything worthwhile I did...

The hills are now green , rains have started not the incessant ones ( global warming and all) but one shower almost everyday, and while the rest of India burns in the sweltering heat Barapani whisks off the rain drops from her body with a brush of her clouds.. This is bliss... cool breeze in the evening and the invariable chill in the wee hours of morning.. The brush of green has painted the landscape in all shades,youth at its best, beauty radiating from the hills just enough for a long breath to escape..the hills did not get their due nor its people from ages, wanderlust travellers being beckoned ,enchanted, loved and then they move on leaving these hills for  greener pastures.

I would go back soon very soon, doing little for this place, little for the hills , nothing for its people. I would forget this land as a fling, a passing phase and this land..would bid me adieu with her open arms , would welcome other wanderers, other souls trapped in this exile, love them, caress them and send them back happily after a year.

Barapani Diary coming to an end..tale of our discoveries..me unraveling the mysterious luscious her and she unleashing a new me. Few more days...few more pages.

Diary closed.

Encounter

Scary. Crimson hues of late evening underlined the sky, as I wandered alone trying to master all the courage I had. The distant light was a hope, the last hope I had for a sane shelter at night. I quickened my steps  scampering towards the light, and a dimly visible… can I call it a house… Well it was turning out to be one... at least some water, may be a cup of tea, my hopes soared high..

A sort of house I have seen in Himalayan travelogues. Thatched roof, wooden stairs and was that…yes a lantern…Day’s fatigue loomed over me as I tried to bridge the gap between me and the doorstep yelling....’ Someone inside’ …I threw my backpack at the door step, banging on the door now.

‘Please help. I lost my way…on to a hiking trip. Just a place for the night’

I could hear the noise of the bolt…finally.

Well from a B Grade horror movie a lady appeared with a lantern, only twist being she wasn’t the old witch style white outfitted one nor the strikingly pretty damsel who seduces you out of nowhere. I found myself staring at the bespectacled eyes of around.. .difficult to guess a woman’s age really well let me settle at fifty.

‘Come in’ The steady eyes studied me for a moment before stepping aside.

                                           

My whole body crumbled under fatigue as I settled myself on a mat I could find on the floor not daring to touch the nicely made if it could be called bed, a piece of timber supported by four legs, nevertheless a mattress, a pillow , a blanket…I stared enviously. She came with a glass of water and a jug, waited patiently as I gulped down a couple of glasses, asking for more.

She handed me over another mug of water, ‘Manage with this to wash your hand and face… water is scarce here’

I obeyed her and then fidgeting for my sanitizer went in for a surprise as she handed me one.  The fire beneath the mud chulha and sound of steaming water bubbles…tea it will be, somehow resisted licking my tongue.

Well tea and dry chapattis. I mumbled thanks and gulped one with another hungrily, remembering to smile at her in between in gratitude. She was kneading the dough for more chapattis as I finished hungrily how many I lost count and licked the last bit of mango pickle she served me. I was coming to my senses, this woman in the middle of nowhere roasting chapattis for me with her not-so-deft hands…

I gulped the left over tea... ‘You saved me’ I smiled.

‘I think I did’ She smiled back. Was she pretty when young…pretty and hot…

My eyes did a quick X Ray as head kept abusing…’ Pervert’

‘Thanks a lot, that will be enough I guess’ I pointed to the heap of dough, ‘For now’

‘ Sure?’ She handed me two more , ‘ Some more tea then’

I was taking in the room now, actually wanted to take out my cam and click. But refrained because of… may be her formidable nature or may be already burdened with gratitude. Her neatly kept bed, well not too neat if you look closely. A newspaper with a half solved SUDOKU…interesting, books…some regional language not sure which, an English classic, a small radio beside the bed, a suitcase cloths scattered over it, some utensils, a bucket, a pair of slippers, a pair of sandals and some more books peeping from another bag, antacids, straps of medicines.

She came in with two glasses of tea now and a blanket for me.

‘Actually I lost my group after we started in morning, kept clicking’

‘Himalayas… if she calls you.. you just follow’ She smiled mysteriously

‘Did you’

For a moment she was taken aback… ‘No’

I stared at her. In college days there would be this talk ‘what-you-notice-about –her’ and if someone dared to say eyes, the entire group shrieking yelling  with laughter, would tear his hair off. I felt like saying ‘ eyes’ now, behind glasses, clear, amused and lost at times.

‘I am here because… wanted to be alone and in clear terms did not have any place back there’

Abandoned by children kind…she didn’t look so old though, I didn,t know what to ask so chose to wait.

‘Just got bored ' She appeared amused at my perplexity ‘Of the world...husband, daughter, parents, in laws, work, colleagues…’

‘In that order?’

A smile lit up her face… ‘ Hmmm’

‘And all this is easily manageable?’

‘Not really. Some villagers give me the supplies. A boy comes from village with water for the day and some days I walk up to the spring. I know a driver in the village who drives me to the city once in a while, sometimes daughter pays a visit loading me with stuffs I don’t need. Not very comfortable but it isn’t supposed to be.’ She paused.

‘But why here… I mean there are other places...’

‘I am not religious’ came the reply ‘ So that strikes off most of the options’

‘Interesting really’ Was she sane…for that matter I hope she is a real human.

Well apparitions don’t roast chapattis.

‘What do you do whole day’

‘Cook, clean, read, walk...sometimes walk to the village for some lessons to children. Tune my radio.’

                       

And I had to put in the obvious...’ Don’t you long for company?’

‘Who doesn’t?’ She rose.

‘And I have one tonight’ another mysterious smile.

That smile must have caught many in her prime time, and that hint of amusement cum subtle flirty throw..

‘You take rest, I'll make dinner’

I was happy she left , too much for a day, Himalayas, getting lost, this ghostly lady with the lamp, I slumped in the mat with the blanket over me, wanted the bed, her bed.. I was losing out...I simply wanted to sleep in her bed…

All sort of nightmares or dreams I could not make out…could see Jayathi my on and off girl friend struggling to get into the tiny bed with me, me staring at a young woman smiling mysteriously, a hungry woman… hungry for me. Villagers yelling ‘ She is a witch , witch… run, run for your life, she will have you’

I tried to shriek, could not connect to my voice chord, gestured frantically... finally with a jerk woke up. My eyes shot at the empty bed above.

Noo… I covered my head with hands … .Witch , ghost.. that’s what I encountered… huh pay the price for straying.. carry this terror all my life.. I got up in distaste and disgust.

Almost dark outside, or we can call it dawn.. a stray bird chirping occasionally, the terrifying empty bed and all other assembled stuff, I dragged myself out of the door.. Damnn.. i wasn’t in my senses last night…but another part spoke out Robin Hood kind of witch. I blinked in the semi darkness outside… run Kunall run...i remembered Tom Hanks in Forest Gump, my throat dry, senses numb with fear.

I licked my lips nervously as I stared back at the mysterious gloomy house, my fingers white clenching the strap of my back pack.

What was that…. I think I will faint now… a shadow appearing from backyards… not any more please… But as it was I stayed glued there...Himalayas when they beckon…who told me that..

The witch appeared in person, emerging out of darkness a bucket and a mug in hand!

‘Good Morning’

I admit ‘Good morning’ was the last thing in my mind then.

‘Actually here you finish the routine tasks early in the morning, almost end of night’

Seeing my utter numbness she spoke again

‘You know open spaces...’ For once she too seemed unsure what to say.

She stared at my backpack.

‘I thought.. I mean if I start early… will give me time to find them’ Words stumbled one after another.

Her brows joined for a second. ‘Sure’

‘ May be I can leave after some tea …and  the ‘ tasks’” I smiled impishly.

She smiled and went in.

I left after an hour.

 ‘Do you … wait for someone?’

‘ I wish I could’

‘Are you … what they call .. detached?’

The deep eyes clouded for a second; ‘No’ She looked at me... ‘If there’s an odd knock at any odd time, for a moment..’ She smiled… ‘ I would think here is a man.. I would talk to, tune my radio together, listen to old songs, or sit quietly and listen to the rain drops and….’ The mysterious smile again ‘Many things… which is quite out of detached category’ she concluded with a wide grin.

I could not but grin myself.

I joined my group later in evening. Something stopped me to burst in excitement …. reveal my ‘ encounter’.  Only in some weird nights I would remember the tiny cosy wooden bed and dream of its occupant.

Dreams Desires and Delhi

So many things I have not done in life rather failed to do in life..list is long .. dancing ,driving I guess tops the list. What,s with this D word.. I wonder. This city of D..one cannot survive here without sitting beneath the wheel and without shaking a leg..and I have hopelessly failed in both D,s many times. The office I work in is generous enough and most of the girls and guys working here and even the fresh ones have a car and.. how much I whine and howl..most of them drive. I have somehow managed to take free rides and be the ' passive partner' for car pooling all these years. In fact I have even offered my husband,s old Maruti 800 to the guys to drive and though they cursed and sweared under their breath while driving in the blazing afternoon ( of course the car had and still has an AC !!) .. they did drive home our car.
Now that I am back after my one year hiatus..and there is actually no one to take me along to office!!! So putting up a brave front... I set course for duty by public transport. Public transport in this city of D... options are too less and sometimes too bad. First hurdle.. hurdle number one.. I don,t know since when I began to feel shy about using public transport..when I reached bus stop for the first morning duty.. only people  I could identify was one of the cleaning ladies in office ..and another man equivalent to her rank.. na , na... I am not being sarkari casteist... Group D and all.. I was plain happy to see them.What I have to do is just follow them.. where to get down and where to catch the next bus..As flurry of cars zoom into the office gate..I sneak in through the little side gate for pedestrians.. shyness creeps in again..and me being senior now..most of the older staff do not fail to remark.. ' Madam aap bus se..' as I paste the smile in my face without replying and several retorts stumble inside. Some more generous comments... ' Arey yeh sab to hum logo ke liye.. aap jaise ofsar..' (Madam you coming by bus!!)  Yes yes I am supposed to have a car and drive that too..and I can,t .. and that is that.

So coming back to public transport ..first day i boarded the bus to office..first thing which felt so Delhi like was the voice of  Lata Mangeshkar.. ' Ajeeb daastan hain yeh'..the melody pouring in though from a worn out pair of speakers and I realised this was something I missed back there in Shillong..familiar radio stations and familiar music from familiar voices. But then public transport in this city specially in this sweltering heat is nowhere near being just about adequate..let alone be fun. Nearest to fun being a ride in the ladies compartment of Delhi Metro. Just looking at the chics you know what you have missed out..whether coloured flip flops or stilettos, capris or hot pants, kurtis or tunics, sleek bags or colourful jholas, bright nail paints or nude ones, latest fashion statements.. and at once you realise lot to catch up on fashion front..and if you wonder from exactly where to begin..take a look at these chics closely..and dont forget to keep your ears open...' Agla station ... Doors will open to the left..please mind the gap.'  We don,t mind really, the AC and the comfort..the traffic less , red light less ride.

But my route from home to office didn,t give the luxury of metros .. most of the days after sweating, puffing in the sultry weather..waiting more than 30 minutes.. i,m bargaining with the autowalahs and dishing out 100 rupee note to reach office and that too no auto would drive to our office, I have to catch bus from a certain point.Since the new airport emerged out of the barren lands.. our office stands sidelined from the main airport and hence all public transport deserted it. Shift timings changed too, upto 8;30 in the evening from earlier 7:30..but who complains.. all car owners and an extra day off to compensate for.

But at least some buses run in that road.. allowing me to sneak in unnoticed .. car less ,careless.. trying to be a true citizen taking pride in our public transport system..yes credit goes to my (un)driving skills but I am waiting to join the bandwagon get a car and drive... till then..the road , autos, buses and me...

Well i do drive now after mastering lots of courage and ticked off one D from my checklist but shaking a leg i still get goosebumps :) and since that is a must in all the gatherings in this city ,slyly make my way to the nearest exit!!

Confessions of a mother

Dear Ninni

Some confession time. It,s an age old debate in the country we live in. I do not know how people deal  with it in other countries and whether such debates do exist. Well i had always been a working mom (whoever has coined the term with such vivid connotations) and truly i do not know much other way of life somehow i always knew i had to work... it wasn,t ambitions or aspirations just a plain principle of working and living my own life. Well things aren,t so plain really...

First of all i don,t really know i need to confess this but succumbing to spousal and parental pressures let me tell you i am not a conventional mom!! Yes me too am not sure of what that means but i am not obsessed with your school, studies, progress, food like the most moms i know and yes i do have a nice world of my own which supposedly i mustn,t have!! And yes since i have this reliable and sincere help to bring you up ( your Pishi) more often than not i leave you to her while i keep doing the things i love... like visiting social networking sites, little bit of writing, some reading and of course shopping, movies and not only this i have left you with your pishi and father for five full days for a pleasure foreign trip with my colleague!!! I know i sound like a perfect heartless mom...and yes it,s not that i have a self absorbed partner who does not take me out for holidays... he does, plans great trips ( only it,s him who decides and i pack and follow)..of course there should be nothing objectionable in this....

Okay these were the allegations rather are the allegations you will continue to hear against me...and also some toppings like i hardly do any household chores and have enough time for myself and i really can,t blame anyone for infusing these in your heart. Now what do i have for defence and whether i really do need any or as if i am loaded with guilt. Well... Ninni.. i do not get along with a lot of persons. By the time you grow up you,d discover all these about me...never got along with your grandma ( my mother) since i was a child, not much with my brother ( as he puts it i am bearable for a maximum period of 48 hours!!!) and now do not get along with your father and yes with your make-believe pishi. It,s not that i dislike any of them nor i think they dislike me much...just that i am impossible sometimes!!And i wonder if you and me would share the same fate... Anyway since your birth leaving the initial turbulent period... i settled in my job leaving you in the hands of my domestic help and i believe she looked after you very well and loved you with her heart. A slum dweller, she would clean and wash in other houses but she looked after you, dressed and bathed you, dressed you in every new frock i got for you and matching hair accessories . She,d take you to the flock of maids gossipping as she,d wait for me to come home from work  and hand you to me when your feet shook excitedly as you could spot me approaching!! Believe me she seemed an angel to me, though she took numerous leaves and ultimately we had your pishi to settle down with us. After initial tumultuous period you adjusted with your pishi and having a full time help life was excessively easy for me.

I went for transfers and stayed at different places and she was and still is an indispensable help. And on my part i know nobody may vouch for me but i need to tell you that i did all i could to make her life comfortable and she became one of us... though it became so hard to digest at times. Soon you also knew pishi is an utmost necessity in our lives and you share a strong bond with her. It was not because of my absent mindedness rather because of her love for you that you have learned to love and respect her and trust her with all your needs. If i went out for a day of shopping or movies leaving you at home or school...it was always with a feel of guilt i returned home and i believe it would be the same for any mother. I remember sometimes i,d spend the day outside when i have night shifts and yet would never go office directly rather come home and have a look at you once!! I might sound outrageously defensive...anyways while at infant stage all mothers prepared those boiled and mashed food with different recipes..i did try once or twice but since you were such a fussy eater...lost interest in few days. And then i saw all moms fuss about school and studies...i stayed behind with my laid back ( might be mistaken for arrogance) attitude. Most moms complain about lack of time.. work, kitchen, toddler but most of the times i find enough time to read, write though i,d love more really...and almost stopped entering into kitchen barring trying something new.

Wanderlust or whatever...i decided on this trip without you. You have stayed without me for two months as i went for training and i know it was a very hard time for both of us...and yet i took this plunge... I knew what i was doing wasn,t very right but who wanted to be always right and hence the first trip outside country. Not that i enjoyed extremely...without you specially those places meant for children..and sometimes i also wondered what i was doing there without you. That was a minor mutiny, an assertion and i loved it more than the trip. Anyways that was a matter of five days and i was back armed with a lot of guilt and allegations from all.

I really do not know if my efforts as a mother falls short of what should be...and i am really this independent woman who moves around leaving you to maid... no Ninni i know you will realise or you already know that you have one gem of a mother... Ma is someone you take for granted, the first name you call when you wake up, the first person you look for in house and this is the most obvious thing...only it makes me happy and content and with the apprehension that my activities never blow this up and this remains as obvious as ever... at least as long as it lasts. All said and done i just know you have always won me over with your innocence and this undemanding love which makes one learn only to give....and i know from the mother you were born from i,d be the person who would win you over with her love and the woman she is.

Lots of love

Yours Ma

Barapani... Reality Bites!!

The magic is wearing off..like everything else..this place is losing its exquisiteness..it is just one of those small villages in our country..where newspapers do not reach except for a local one which some days finds its way to the local shops..Khasi language in english script, one of those villages where children walk miles in search of a school,where nearest hospital is some 20 km away..where few Tata Sumos run with people hanging behind as means of public transport,where girls go to the river for washing clothes,where children collect drinking water from roadside taps..huddle containers of water in make shift carts..where men drink in evening and night..where concept of street light is totally redundant..where women give birth to half a dozen babies within the four walls of home..wherein within the long stretch of unpaved road..if any little shop you can find would definitely have 'kowai' (local betel nut) if not any trace of other bare necessities of life..

In this land I stand partly disillusioned partly grounded..partly lonely wondering if I am missing out on life where I spent last six years..but then I never know what I am missing out on..a fiercely competitive manipulative professional life in the city..where relationships even if  manage to find a place, longeivity gets shorter..nothing survives here save a hunger for success..and a family life..where baby husband maid parents friends all strive for a place and I long for space and continue with a super balance act. And here in this land one can have all the space one longs for and more..so much space that loneliness creeps into the soul in one form or other.. That,s it then..solitude and bliss turning to hard hitting loneliness from which there is no respite..there I go.. sounding frustrated , lonely lending substance to the term ' tenure' or ' unpopular posting'. The lush green of August has given way to a hazy dusty February..where spring is hardly tangible wrapped in warm sunny days and cool chilly nights.The hills seem to long for rains, pine trees looking high in the sky..and to me the magic of the hills do not work any more..like magic of new found love giving way to routine indifference..a nonchalance owing to the loneliness bug digging into the soul..the Wanderlust giving way to a longing for ' home'

All said and done..my airport.. if all works well I would be' home' after a few months and my ' airport' would have all new admirers..all for a year..loving hating fleeing, some will be cast in its spell, some will be drawn and disillusioned..some will simply not fall into the trap..and I wouldn,t be there to see (in high probability)..I would be 'home' and the residue of ' Wanderlust' in me in lone lost moments would build by bits and parts..a picture an image of a bewitching beautiful lonely airport in the laps of rain kissed August green hills..my tiny tower and the thatched ' Meera,s Tea Shop' lurking behind..providing oxygen to one and all..ironed uniform clad airliners..kowai chewing red lipped labours..lazy without work Sarkari babus...hunger thirst driven passengers searching frantically for a cup of tea in days where flight gets delayed indefinitely...