It was a
chilly Saturday night. The usual ones you’d find in the December of Delhi
wherein the cold weather sets in and everyone whiles away their time under
their quilts. I was on my way to his terrace, where he’d probably be sitting
with a Benson in one hand and a glass of JD in another. I was madly in love
with Vineet’s writer friend. We knew nothing about each other but somehow I
felt so connected to him, I felt so much passion for him, it was as if I had
known him forever.
As I approached the terrace gate, I heard some gazals being played. He loved Jagjit Singh and he heard him everytime he was depressed.
As I approached the terrace gate, I heard some gazals being played. He loved Jagjit Singh and he heard him everytime he was depressed.
“Kabhi khamosh baithoge, Kabhi kuch gungunaaoge…
Main utna yaad aaunga, mujhe jitna bhulaooge..
Koi jab pooch baithega, khaamoshi ka sabab tumse…
Bahut samjhana chahoge magar samjha naa paaoge…”
Main utna yaad aaunga, mujhe jitna bhulaooge..
Koi jab pooch baithega, khaamoshi ka sabab tumse…
Bahut samjhana chahoge magar samjha naa paaoge…”
That was his
favourite gazal and I somehow knew that he was not in a good state of mind. I
tried peeping through the window and saw his face.
His eyes were bloodshot red. His hairs were in a mess. A couple of tears rested on his cheeks. He was crying but there was no sense of emotion on his face. It was like tears were flowing through his eyes but his face was expressionless. He was pouring scotch time and again and gulping it neat and the cigarettes he smoked were increasing as well. He was in a bad state. Infact the worst one. I knew he’d break someday but I never knew it would look this bad. My heart went out to him but I decided against consoling him. I wanted his emotions to flow.
His eyes were bloodshot red. His hairs were in a mess. A couple of tears rested on his cheeks. He was crying but there was no sense of emotion on his face. It was like tears were flowing through his eyes but his face was expressionless. He was pouring scotch time and again and gulping it neat and the cigarettes he smoked were increasing as well. He was in a bad state. Infact the worst one. I knew he’d break someday but I never knew it would look this bad. My heart went out to him but I decided against consoling him. I wanted his emotions to flow.
Meanwhile, I
saw a couple of crumbled pieces of paper near him and they flew with the course
of wind. Luckily they settled near the door and I picked them up. I couldn’t
help but cry after this. I wish I could be with him.
“Sometimes,
you don’t know the reason behind the things you do.
You don’t know why you hold on.
You don’t know why you can’t let go.
You don’t know why you love those memories so much.
The scars of your heart remind you of the places you’ve been.
You are reminded of the memories that break you yet make you.
The love that tears you apart but still holds you together.
The friendship that left you alone but still has been with you all the way long.
The affection and care that you don’t deserve yet desire.
And then these songs, which tell you everything you’re afraid to say.
Some days I break and the calm storm inside me erupts. The emotional change is so drastic that I feel numb. I am breaking down and I feel scared as hell.
There are somethings which don’t have a reason.”
You don’t know why you hold on.
You don’t know why you can’t let go.
You don’t know why you love those memories so much.
The scars of your heart remind you of the places you’ve been.
You are reminded of the memories that break you yet make you.
The love that tears you apart but still holds you together.
The friendship that left you alone but still has been with you all the way long.
The affection and care that you don’t deserve yet desire.
And then these songs, which tell you everything you’re afraid to say.
Some days I break and the calm storm inside me erupts. The emotional change is so drastic that I feel numb. I am breaking down and I feel scared as hell.
There are somethings which don’t have a reason.”
***
movers and packers
ReplyDelete