19 Jan 1996

i reached the interstate bus stand with him, and with my luggage - a pitthu bag, one briefcase, and a big suitcase. she had not reached. "girls are always late" is what i thought. after waiting for 10 mins, i drove to her house and together we arrived at the stand.

he identified the best seats for us and helped us adjust the luggage under the seat and on the overhead rack, and then i forced him to leave. i didn't wanted him to come anyways.

it was an ordinary bus we boarded and did not speak much during the first 3 hour of our journey. i am not sure if it was because of the different 'us together' or because of the extreme. i remember her wearing a maroon sweater and a thick shawl.

our bus broke down near muzzaffarnagar. we got down with our luggage. it was a foggy 9 am and few would have ventured out even for a tea break had the bus stopped near a roadside dhaba.

luckily we found few seats in another bus. we got in and occupied whatever seats were available. she got a seat in the middle of the bus, and i found one near the driver. the physical distance for the next four hours was just like the mental one. occasionally we would check on each other, with simple expressions.

we reached the destination and took an auto in a still foggy weather. i dropped her where she and i thought she would be safe; asked her to take care of herself, and then when i saw him i left after a cold handshake - it was not because of the weather.

i thought i left behind something precious. not sure of the future. of his, her, and importantly, mine.

hope

the gathering was over and all icould see was big small pieces of newspaper scattered all over. just a few minutes ago, there was life and now it appears a lifeless area. sometimes even when you are not part of a gathering, you have a sense of belonging to it in someway. and when everyone disperses, you feel, it would have been good if it continued...

unable to rewind the past, you recall and savor the memories. the moment has gone. it won't be back. there may be a feeling of regret or happiness. sorrow or hope--while the former will linger on for some time, the latter will renew your trust in life, something much better is yet to come by...

jo gujar gayee, kal kee baat thee, umar to naheen ek shaam thee
shaam kaa siraa agar fir mile kahee...

two sticks...

two sticks i saw a man holding, with multiple perforation on both.
the difference-one was metal the other wood.

the man was a CRPF/CISF soldier posted outside chandni chowk metro stn. a long perforated cylindrical gun hung across his shoulder and he was also holding the wodden stick - a flute which he bargained from a handicap vendor.

a soldier with two sticks: for social and mental peace!