There's Hope.

Hope is when you stare at the sun and imagine a drop of rain.

Hope is when you kiss a rose, with your eyes closed.

Hope is when you smile alone and say it’s fine.

Hope is when a love story makes you cry.

Hope is when you look in the mirror and say thank you.

Hope is when you part ways and look back one last time.

Hope is when you believe in coincidences.

Hope is when you search for a meaning.

Hope is when you look for answers.

Hope is when conversations don’t end.

Hope is when he calls you for nothing.

Hope is when there’s a long silence.

Hope is when you don’t want to give up.

Hope is when you want to move on.

Hope is when you write for him to read.

Hope is when you check your mail a thousand times.

Hope is when you find meaning in a forward he sent.

Hope is when you read between the lines.

Hope is when you think.

Hope is when you dream.

Hope is what makes you live.

When sari met panjo!

Not all people you meet form an integral part of your life. Especially when you meet hundreds of them and you’re the kinds who’d befriend them all. Some just stay. In a corner of your heart, but accessible whenever you need them.

Panjo aka Anjo Jose Kandathil, is one such friend I’ve made. Someone whom I couldn’t help noticing on my first day of work at Mudra Cochin. You’d know why, if you’ve seen him. His characteristic hairstyle, amongst others, makes him stand out from the rest. This guy went on to become my closest friend in Mudra Cochin. And one of the very few reasons I’m still here.

“Life’s good right?” That’s where it all started. On a Sunday afternoon, a window pops up on my laptop screen with these words written on it. I couldn’t help but smile and type back, “Oh yes, it is!” There. That’s all it took. What started as a gtalk conversation is today my daily dose of cheer and positive energy.

Surprising, that I’m writing this today, given the fact that our level of interaction during the first few days was nothing more than ‘hey, is the work done?’ He was just another client servicing guy any creative person would secretly detest. Briefs, deadlines, pressure. Nothing better described this breed. And he was one of them. Little did I know that this guy would end up being the one I’d discuss all my ideas with and have me ponder over his criticism. Hate to say this, but this guy makes sense. Most of the time.

And by that I don’t mean work alone. To him, no problem’s too big. And so to me, he was agony unc. I could talk to him for hours together, to finally hear a “ashey! athrey ulla?” or a “athinipentha”! And if he says this, be sure of a solution. If nothing else, he’d make sure he brings a smile on your face. Coz every conversation ends with, “you happy no?” Now, what more could you ask for?

How we became this close, nobody knows. Neither do I. All I know is that this guy’s today, a friend, a girlfriend, (how I love bitching to him) an uncle, a dad and sometimes even a grandfather to me! Try asking him questions that surround life and it’s weird ways, hows and whats, whys and why nots, Panjo has an answer for them all. I’ve got an answer every time I needed one.

He’s a find. A very rare one. Today, on his birthday I’d like to tell him this:

“Panjo, have lunch on time. Don’t make me call you for two hours every day and finally eat at 4 in the evening!

If somebody calls you, return the call. Don’t just say you were busy and forget about it.

When somebody calls out to you, respond. If you decide to meet someone at 4, meet them at 4.

If you think you’ll take half an hour, don’t tell them you’ll be there in ten minutes.

I’m not sure how many of those you’re going to remember, but these, you better.

You’re irreplaceable.

You’re my most favourite friend.

You have the sweetest way of saying “im sorry”

Switch to creative. U belong there!

Your films are going to have halls full!

You better be the way you are. Adorable!

Happy bday Panjo! You deserve nothing but the best.

Hugs!

Superheroes

Ever been in a state where you’re terribly troubled, you know the reason and still can’t do anything much about it? You try everything possible to get out of it except what it really takes. Simply because you think you’re not brave enough to face the consequence. You prefer being disturbed because it comes with a certain amount of happiness here and there, now and then. And when those rare happy moments strike, you forget your worries and tend to ignore the marshy land you’ve crossed a while ago and would perhaps come across very soon.

Here’s the flip side. Why is it that we human beings, or some of us find it so difficult to face adversities? Or is that the case after all? It’s always when the worst hits that you and me want to face it, live through it and see what finally happens. And in the process, depression strikes, hope unfolds and a certain strength in you makes an appearance. Which most often goes unnoticed amongst all the negativity. You feel you’re the weakest. You ask why, why you. And you think of the worst from every possible angle. It’s an obscure pleasure you get out of all this. Somewhere, in your sub-conscious self, you begin enjoying all the pain. And you decide to wait till the end to see and know for yourself where it all ends. And no way, can anything stop you from getting there.

And this I think is far better than the act of escapism. It’s not cowardice, but an unidentified pang of strength that you’ve hidden within yourself. Of which even you’re not aware. You take all the shit that you’re offered, walk through the roughest lanes only because you know that you’d finally get somewhere. There’s no giving up unless you’re convinced.

Why else are we endowed with qualities such as patience, will-power, hope and confidence? You need all of it to walk out of a situation and all of it to live through it too. But at the end of the day, it takes courage to decide. It takes more to wait and see.

What's in his mind?

“Men. Who says they aren’t complicated?”
“Nobody.”

“Really? So then why was I under this misconception?”
“Um…probably coz you didn’t want to accept reality”

Her lips twitched.

I agree
Maybe
To hell with your philosophy.

I wonder which of these it meant.

Sammy has the sweetest boyfriend in this world. So she thinks. Like any other girl does in the first one year. 4 months in Sammy’s case. But here, I’d give Sammy’s verdict a ten on ten with a star. Tarun was definitely a find.

They met at the fish market. Yea, of all the places. Smelly hands, maroonish plus blackish gooey stuff – (worse than what you think girls) all over and semi reddish puddles of water that lies stagnant. Sammy in her striped pyjamas, a double XL t-shirt that read ‘I know where you’re looking, you pevert” and of course her blue and white chappal that went perfectly with her looks that day.

The most unromantic “pehli nazar” that led to, what Sammy calls, a perfect relationship. Tarun couldn’t help noticing how she knew each and every monger there and how they behaved like one big family for those few minutes when Sammy was there. “He fell for my socializing skills” Sammy would say raising her eyebrows and sighing with it.

Tarun adored Sammy. Unlike most guys I’ve met, he respected his girl. He admitted he was wrong when he was, and apologized like a kid when he hurt her. His face would shrink with guilt when he made a mistake or when a tear rolled down her eye. Tarun was a great guy. A rare human being who understood another. There were days when Sammy would come home with a smile so wide, it would show on your face too.

To him, Sammy was his kid. It was a pleasure to see him treat her like a toddler. The way he tilted his head, looked into her eyes and smiled when she sulked and complained. The way he would kiss her forehead and hold her tight when she cried. And the way he would punch her lightly on her arm when she told him how she hated the way the girl in the coffee shop flirted with him. Everything about it was so happy and so real.

He wasn’t really the all mush kinds either. There were days when he behaved like she was nothing more than a friend to him too. Like the day she complained about men being complicated. They would have the most amazing conversation but to put it in Sammy’s words, he would seem distant. Like he was talking to any other close friend of his. And this disturbed her.

How could a guy who could one day make you feel like there’s a butterflies family meet in your stomach, who looks into your eyes and makes you want to melt, who holds your hand and takes away every little fear from your mind, one fine day talk to you like it’s a formality he’s fulfilling. This confused Sammy. And me.

Could these be instances when guys think twice about their decisions and regret about it somewhere for some strange reason? Or is it just one of those days when they don’t feel the love. Or a passing phase when they think about their life, their career, their future all of which got lost somewhere between all the romance? Or are we women just over reacting? Oh please guys, stop nodding so hard.

Sammy looked at me with those twitched lips, straightened them and nodded. “You’re right.” She said.

I shrugged. Was I?

Rewind.

At 28, life seems to have just begun. Coz 16, 18, 21 have all been like any other. Like a signboard you see outside a shop, on a journey. You see them passing by, but they have nothing much to do with your trip. They’re not like milestones that tell you “you’ve reached here”. Funny because, they are meant to be milestones. Because that’s when a sense of independence crawls in. The urge to break free, the restlessness to do more, the anxiety to know what’s in store for you – everything makes you look at life from a whole new perspective. One that’s got only you in it. Life begins to run parallel to that of your family but never seem to meet anywhere. Late nights never seem too late and weekends never seem to end. Such, would have been the life of many an 18 or 21 year old. Strangely, not mine.

Looking back, I realize that life had a lot to offer. An awesome childhood with some really good friends (Many of whom are still my best buddies), an equally exciting campus life, an awesome mom and a terrific dad as parents, an affectionate elder sister, crushes, true love, all of it. But what I didn’t seem to have was the feeling to be independent. I never felt the need to stay away from home. I didn’t think I had to live life on my own terms. I never dreamt of being alone in a new city, where nobody knew me, so that I had nobody to stop me from living my life.

While most of my peers eagerly waited to fly free, the thought of staying away from home gave me sleepless nights. But if life were to be such at 21, so be it. Thinking so, I packed my bags and started for a new life. Away from home for higher studies. I was by myself. And I was miserable.

I felt suffocated in my independent life. Nothing was the same. I never went out. I did nothing that I didn’t do back home. I was on a constant guilt trip. Every time I tried my hand at something new, I’d feel a chill down my spine. To me, doing what I wished, without my parents being around, was wrong. Such a bore, I swear!

And so set back. To home sweet home. With mom and dad and nothing to worry. Life was safe and blissful. No more risks. No more lies. And life went on.

Not too far, however. As I entered the late twenties, life began to take a new turn. New ideas started taking shape. New perspectives were formed. Questions raised. Explanations demanded. An age-long siesta was coming to an end.

Today, I look back and wonder if there’s something I’ve missed. And all I do is nod my head. At a time when I had the choice to grab life by its bars, I parked it aside. Safe and sound. And today, when I wish I had the freedom to surge ahead and not look back, I know it’s too late. All that I once thought was luxury, have today become my necessity. I guess if I’d lived life differently then, I’d be happy where I am today. I wish I could look back and tell myself, wow what a ride. Sadly, I think, the ride’s just started. And will soon have to see its end.

Optimism tells me there are still miles to go. Pessimism tells me I slept through my journey.