The Stepping Stone

Have you ever had a flash of idea? An idea which can make you lose your sleep, can overpower your thinking so vehemently that no moment passes without it. If not then certainly you are missing an important ingredient of life, called passion. I am not here to preach you about passion but I want to share my experience with my passion. For those who don't know, I have written a novel titled 'Oops! 'I' fell in love!' which is due its release this August. It is a comedy of errors in a vulnerable small-town guy's tryst with love in this strange Delhi.

After writing this bit of humorous thingy, an irresistible urge to write something with a message - impactful but without any trace of philosophy - came within me. My urge to get this flash of idea made me into a story-teller and in the meantime I wrote about five stories which turned quite impressive(even to me!). Ideas for a dozen more of these are in the assembly line waiting for my exams to end, but none of them could help me out with the theme for my next novel, until the day before.

It's a matter of just yesterday. After struggling for over a month to find MY IDEA I have finally got it ~ in just a flash of second. I was sitting in the library and reading my plasma notes with the concentration of a drunken driver when I was shaken by this thought. The idea traced back to my last article '18+' in Graffiti and it made me think of an issue which could be addressed in a novel which is still(hopefully) not thought of by anyone else on this planet!

Friends, I have an immense pleasure in announcing that I have got a theme for my next novel. With AIDS as the backdrop, I would address the issue, "If a sufferer is deprived of love and care, what devastating impact he/she can have on the society!" I am not disclosing the plot, nor am I going to publish it on blog. I would be working silently on this theme for the next half of year and then come up with my creation materialized in my hand.

It is a very dark theme and demands quite a lot of research at my end. The moment I got this idea, my mind jumped in thrill and enthusiasm. I called two of my closest friends and shared my excitement with them, they instilled faith in me by being very appreciative of my plot and even the uniqueness of idea. I searched my mobile contact list and I felt really bad that I could not share it with anybody else since either they would not share the same excitement as me or they would be too critical.(It happens, as I've seen that if you bestow the right to judge your work to someone who has no niche in your field of art, they tend to be over-critical, they start thinking that they are the God! Offences meant!)

AN EXCERPT FROM MY DIARY:
20th April

With great hope at night I called my Dad and said, "Dad, I have got that flash - my BIG idea! I am going to write about AIDS, in a completely different perspective! Dark theme!"

I then went on to discuss my whole plot with him and he showed some mixed reactions - happy but fearful.

"It will serve two purposes - (a) Create awareness about AIDS in an impactful way, and (b) develop respect amongst people towards the affected few. We are educated ones and I think I will create a long-lasting impact on the society with a dark theme instead of the same happy ending themes. For that I would need to meet AIDS affected people and need their story of discrimination plus their feelings towards society." I continued.

To which Dad replied, "That's really innovative, brilliant sketch. But don't mix up with those AIDS affected ones too much. Avoid shaking hands or even accepting something from their hand or any physical proximity. Always maintain safe distance from them."

I was stunned. I replied, "Dad, you know everything about how AIDS occurs and it is not communicable, but still! I am shocked. I am sorry to inform you that your advice worked in the wrong way. These words of yours have made me a thousand times more enthusiastic about doing immense research in writing this. I would meet the affected people, shake hands with them and even hug them. And I will change this very perception of people around me."

Dad did not reply. Perhaps, his inner voice saying that his son is right overpowered his fatherly protective feelings for me. I instantly knew that he inwardly desired me to break free from all these social taboos and reach out to my dream!

"Thank you Dad." I said.

"I am proud of you son!" He said. There were tears in my eyes, and I could see his eyes too filled with tears, which were however 1000 kms away from me. I smiled anticipating the green signal in the path of my dream.

P.S. I love you Dad.

My Quotes

My mind has setup a factory for manufacturing quotes. With each passing hour, a quote comes out of nowhere. I just want to have a track-record of my genius(yeah, don't stare!) -

Profound-type

1. Love is not measured by what you can 'give' for its sake, rather what you can 'give up' for its sake.
2. I am not mad in love but I love somebody madly.
3. If you have a dream and you have friends who value it, then you certainly are the happiest one on this planet. And I am one of those!
4. I am not one of those; I am one of 'those few'.
5. Sometimes things go in the right direction quite unexpectedly and you are amazed to realize that happiness is your destiny.
6. One is single before and even after commitment. (It is profound, if you get it!)
   

Chill-type

1. I used to be straight, but now I am a hunchback!
2. I am a 'single' child.
3. TV is my ex-girlfriend! And it is I who ditched her.
4. I am addicted to addiction.
   
5. Love is not blind, it is myopic(short-sighted).
   
6. I am a virgin, but my eyes are not!
   
7. It is very difficult to invent a new quote every single time you want!
   
8. You are my best friend, for the time being!
9. I tried to be costly but no one seemed interested; so I became cheap!
   
10. I used to be happy once, but then I gave the minors!
    
11. IIT = Institute of Insipid Tortures(to be encountered in my novel too!)
12. When your girlfriend becomes more of a girl and less of a friend, it is the time to leave her.
    
13. Love is 'friendship gone bad'. (It's plagiarized though, hope she does not read it!)
14. I used to listen to Himesh once, but now I find the noises in the toilet more dulcet.
    
15. This is what I use as my gtalk status message when I want to say DND : I have not slept for two days. Boring people, please bug me and help me sleep!

P.S. There are many more, but I leave them for my novel! Check it out there.

Graffiti

To reduce the accumulation of any more 'Kahani' in my personal blog Synergy, I have made another blog titled 'Graffiti'. The word literally means - a rude decoration inscribed on rocks or walls and can be metaphorically linked to scratches of my mind and imagination while creating stories. The stories, which are numerous to recount and are in the assembly line demanded a separate quantum number for their residence, so here it is Graffiti, ladies and their non-gentlemen:

http://anotherscratchinmymind.blogspot.com/

The way to remember is simple. When you forget the link, just start scratching your mind and another scratch in your mind will sublimate your oblivion. Good Night.

P.S. Check out the recent one in Graffiti. For the first time I wrote something meaningful.

Shorter Story : That 'THING' called love

Week I
"Don't ask about my past!" She said.

He didn't ask. He thought there must have been something quite distressing that might have happened to her, so he shouldn't ask. Curiosity multiplied as seconds ticked away. However, he kept his curiosity to himself.

He was a nice guy(and stupid too), the kind of guys who can be classified as an endangered species nowadays. It was their first talk. She asked his number ~ through net on that day itself after an hour long chat. He did not notice her experience ~ 15000 scraps and a dozen of flirty testimonials, rather was just awed with her choice of words and spontaneity(an euphemism for experience!).

He was in Delhi and she was in Bangalore. Distance was no obstruction since phone lines are always ready to be burnt ~ thanks to reliance on Reliance.

She called him. She started flirting with him. His handsome Orkut pic attracted all those polishing words. He was enjoying every bit of it - it was the first time in his life that it happened the reverse way. Quite a naive(and stupid) guy!

Week II
"I like you." She said. He felt perhaps this is what is called love.

"I like you too." He said with a flattered smile embellishing his cute face.

Talks increased. Even wildest experiences were not spared. He spread his life like an open book in front of her. She listened to him with her chat engine on. He was too gullible(and stupid too) to take a note of it. Plus, she did not tell a thing about her so-called past.

Week III
Thoughts about her clouded his stupid mind. She was good looking and she liked him. What more could he desire. He liked her too. His obsessive thoughts were given a break when she called.

"We both like each other. Why not go to another level?" She started. He was startled. Things had been made easy for him. He did not need to take an initiative. He just needed to say a simple word 'Yes'. He did it.

"Yes, I am ready." He said glibly(and quite stupidly).

"I love you!" She shot the wonderful phrase to his heart. It pierced through creating a wound of joy and he was ecstatic. Everything was so sudden for him. Like all of it had been already written by the Creator himself. He felt grateful to everything around him. Exhaling his long held breath, he said it himself - for the first time in his stupid life.

"I love you too." He said, quite shyly(and stupidly).

Week IV
She was happy. She asked him to mail his snaps. He mailed them. She showed them to her friends. He was looking really handsome. Friends were jealous, she could smell them burning. Her love(oh really, love?) stayed beautiful the whole week. He was all happy, swimming in the sea of love, with her as his lovely partner ~ as lovely as a piranha! Phone bills catapulted to the ceiling... he was relishing even this thing! Stupid!

Her scraps increased from 15000 to 17000. He was not its cause however. He didn't know about it at all since he had been too busy trying different swimming strokes in that algal sea of love. He trusted her. I told you he was too naive(and stupid too).

Week V
Something had gone wrong. He was too stupid to know what was it. There had been no arguments or anything whatsoever. But things were not smooth. He was still swimming though, he found in himself a good swimmer.

There were no calls or message. It was two days now. He was worried. He tried her phone, it was switched off. He switched on his laptop, logged on Orkut - his professional match-maker. He checked her scrapbook. She was talking to someone new...and somewhat more handsome than him, as his profile pic displayed. He checked Mr.Handsome's scrapbook where she had scribbled -

"Don't ask about my past!"

He (stupidly)realized that he had been swimming with a shark. He drowned surviving a brutal attack but now he was no more naive and neither stupid.

P.S. Dedicated to all the nice(and stupid) guys. The world needs your courtesy in the gatekeeping of hotels and department stores- your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile is not required to please the sharks out here.

My Best Friend

As a whistling stream, he flows
Transcending all the barriers
Of language, countries and sorrows;
More than a zillion colours he wears
He is my best friend, oh dear!

With the sound of violins
And the melody of song
Breaking the silence
Of the sad world, he goes along
He is my best friend, oh my summer song!

Much like that friend whose mere presence
Makes our world a place worth
Livin' - of pleasure immense,
That's the kind of joy he brings to this Earth
He is my best friend, oh he's my mirth!

When you love someone, you forget the world
Whilst his love makes you forget even you
His presence makes the Devil within dulled
He asks nothing but love and is always true!
Music - he is my best friend, oh you few!

P.S. The you in italics is for ego.
P.S. Just spent three hours with my guitar, and I realized how much I love it.