Sajal Choudhary - Prose

This Valentines Day

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Thu, 19 Feb 2026 14:39:14 GMT

You said, in Finland,
they celebrate friendships
as well, on this day,
in this week.

It’s love that they celebrate,
regardless of form.

Let us celebrate that,
this valentine’s.
Let us celebrate,
our friendship.

Friendships are different,
from what we share usually.
Friendships are lighter though.
Less burdensome.
Lesser expectations too.
They provide a similar relief though,
a similar sort of love.

Let’s celebrate that too,
this valentine’s.
Being able to talk,
without worrying too much.
Being able to laugh,
at mostly stupid stuff.
Being able to dance,
with or without the music.

Let’s celebrate it all.
Let’s celebrate our friendship,
this valentine’s day.

A Day in the Life Of

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Sat, 27 Sep 2025 13:22:28 GMT

I wake up. It’s still dark outside (inside?) whatever. I don’t care. I don’t want to wake up right now. I make a noise. I still haven’t figured out the talking thing completely. I can say some things. Not everything. I don’t need to. These guys will figure out.

Anyway, I make a noise. I should have heard something by now. Where are you?

I make another noise.

This time I hear her back.

“Are you up now?”, she says. “Are you hungry?”

She coddles me, puts her breast in mouth. “Here”, she says.

I take it in and start sucking. Milk!

I drink all I can. But it’s hard to keep my eyes open. It’s dark outside (inside?). Whatever. I nod off.

This time when I wake up, there’s light in the room. Not too much, just a little.

I do not see them around here. I call them.

I hear some sounds outside and then my father comes. The first thing he does is puts his hand under my head and brings me close.

I don’t want to sleep anymore. I make it clear.

He cuddles me then, kisses me everywhere.

I don’t like that either. I push him off. He picks me up then, brings me outside. I see my mother in the kitchen. She is doing something. I don’t care. I laugh. She laughs back. I want to go to her. And so I reach out.

Now I’m in her arms. Here it comes! I steel myself.

My mother starts kissing me now. I want some of it. But she does not know when to stop. I push her back. She does not stop. I push her back some more. Finally, she seems to be done.

They put me down on the ground. They put a banana in my hand. I’m hungry anyway. Time to eat!

I have been walking around for quite some time now. I have eaten. I have played with my truck, the little blocks that I love pulling apart, the spoons that I got from the dining table.

Just then, my father comes pick me up. He kisses me again. I mean seriously, how many times do you have to do this!

He takes me to the bathroom and puts me down at the changing station. *I don’t know it’s a changing station, but you need to know, right? wink wink *

He removes my clothes and then my diaper. I pick up the big blue bottle of cream. I uncork the bottle, and throw the bottle away. I am happy. He looks a bit annoyed. But then kisses me again. I mean seriously!

He picks me up, I catch a boy looking back at me through this shiny thing on the wall. I laugh some more, as does he.

Then we move to my favourite part of the morning.

My father puts me down, and while I move around gathering myself, there’s rain! I love this so much. The water feels so good. I don’t like it when it goes in my eyes, so I put my head down, while my father washes my head.

I want to touch the water. I reach out and grab the thing rain comes out of. Yes! Now I can put it on my face. Wait, I don’t like that. A little down then. Yes! Perfect!

I am sitting in my chair now. I have been dressed. I have been tied down. I try to get out of it, but can’t. Some day soon, I will break these shackles and run free!

Just not today, I guess.

Mother is sitting on the floor. She starts ringing the thing in her hand. It’s time. She starts singing, and I start clapping. Why? Well, why not?

We are all here, at the table. They have plates in front of them. They used to feed me, forcefully, not anymore though. I am a big boy now. I can eat by my own. But first, I must see what it is. I must pick the individual piece of grain in front of me, see how it feels in my hand, and then, and only then, will I eat it.

My mother does not believe in my methodological approach though. From time to time, she tricks me. Showing me my glass of water, and then shoving food in my mouth at the end of moment. She is wily, this woman!

Father is about to leave though. He is up and about, moving around, putting his jacket on.

“Bye. Bye”, I say as I wave off to him. He laughs.

“Bye. Bye”, I say again. He picks me up the, kisses me again. And puts me down on the sofa. Time for the outer layer I guess. We are done soon. He picks me up.

“Bye. Bye”, I say again. This time to mother. She is still at the table. But I am getting late. We need to go go go.

Father puts me in the back of the car. We have walked some distance. I was in his arms the whole time. He finds some more restraints and ties me down again. Then he goes and sits in the front. And we start moving. Does he not realise that I can’t see anything from back here. Let me try and scoot, just a little to the right, just a little, yes, now I can see.

We stop moving. Father comes and removes the restraints. I can move again! Yes!

I know what is going to happen now, so I hold on to him, a little more tightly. We walk. Again, he walks, I am in his arms. We go past the door, walk some more. I can see kids all around me. He puts me down on the ground.

I know what happens next. So I get closer to him and grab onto his leg. He is picking out this purple thing that he will put on me soon. I don’t want none of it today. Just, no.

He puts the bib on me. And now we walk. I hold his hand and we walk. I like this.

We reach the mound of sand. I see the other kids around and then I see her.

I cry.

“Huominta Savya” she says.

I cry loudly now.

I’m picked up and put in her lap now. Her hands hold me. I can see my father at a distance. I call out to him again. He turns to go. I cry out to him again. He keeps walking away, stopping once at the door. I cry out, loudly, as loud as I can. He lingers, then walks away.

My Ego Would Not Let Me Say Sorry

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Wed, 26 Mar 2025 07:18:23 GMT

I messed up today.
I shouted at you.
I shouldn't have.
It's as simple as that.

It is. Now.

It wasn't in the morning,
or the rest of the day.

I was angry.
When I said what I said.
Or how I said what I said.
My ego stood in the back,
massaging itself.
Telling me, no I was not at fault.
Telling me, do not say sorry.
Telling me, couples fight, it’s ok.
Telling me, this is passion!
Telling me, this that and the other thing.

My ego would not let me say sorry.
I lost my cool.
I screamed at you.
I should not have.
I’m sorry.

These Are Just Poems

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Sat, 15 Feb 2025 20:59:25 GMT

These are just poems,
And not serious ones at that.

There are not going to
start revolutions and win wars!

These are just poems!
You read them, nestled in
the cozy corner in your home,
your bed or your sofa.

You read them,
with a hot cup of tea in your hand,
while the world is white,
with fresh snow all around.

These are just poems!
You read them and smile,
or laugh, or cry. Whatever.
You do something.

And that is all!
These are just poems after all!

A year of mornings is out today on Amazon all across the globe.

Go ahead and buy, leave a review, share it with the world.

Rain, Like Mist

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Mon, 30 Dec 2024 03:29:26 GMT

Rain,
like mist.
Does it pour?
Or, does it spray?

Does it matter?
I walked in rain today.
The ground was wet.
But different kinds of wet.
The asphalt had a shine to it.
The mud, was darker than it would be.

I had put on my cap.
The spatter of rain,
Against my ear,
These were not
Violent sounds.

It was rain,
But mild,
Like mist.

It distorted what I could see.
It made things muddy.
Unclear. I took a picture,
And there was a weird quality to it.
Not drops of water on the mirror.
But a foggy, hazy thing.

It was rain.
But mild,
like mist.

Playful Eyes

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Fri, 27 Dec 2024 03:27:40 GMT

Playful eyes.
Looking here,
Looking there,
And now back here.

You are looking
for things to get
your hands on,
things you could
put in your mouth.

Why?
Does the TV remote taste
absolutely delicious?
Should I taste it?

Do you need to smack
some sense into the actress
on that show?
Should I try it?
Will it stop her
from going into that basement?

Playful eyes.
Looking for things to grab.
Playful eyes.
When you look at me,
it feels as if you are
peering into my soul.

Soulful eyes.
Dreamy eyes.
Playful eyes.

What Is Love?

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Fri, 13 Dec 2024 03:36:47 GMT

what is love?

an year has passed since,
i wondered that out loud last.

a lot has changed,
over this past year.

an year of firsts,
it was. is still.

we grew. became more.
grew fuller perhaps.

we travelled a bunch,
to places we hadn’t been before.

we tried out new cuisines,
remember that vietnamese?

we brought life here, in this world.
now we get to watch it grow.

so much has happened in this year.
so much has changed.

what has remained the same,
is how you make me feel.

Living With Bindis

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Fri, 25 Oct 2024 03:37:45 GMT

I saw your bindi,
on the mirror in our room.
I saw your bindi,
stuck on a wall in our shower.
And I thought,
Prerna was here.
This is a lived in place.
These rooms, this home.

It felt as if you were talking to me,
Saying hi, from a different time.

Was I a Good Brother to You

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Thu, 09 May 2024 20:20:11 GMT

Was I a good brother to you?
You needed me,
But was I there?
I don’t know now,
if I can answer that.
Correctly. Truthfully?

See I was young.
As were you.
But I was younger still.
I was dealing in my own way;
With the fact.
The fact that our mother had died.

I was dealing in my own way.
And I did not stop and think,
How were you dealing with it.
You had lost someone too,
After all.
And maybe, just maybe,
You needed her more than I did?

I’ve been quiet, through life.
I made friends.
Boys are not meant to be emotional.
I don’t know.
I don’t know how I dealt with it.
I don’t remember.
It’s something I don’t think about.

But, you and I,
You and I are all that’s left of her.
And I read somewhere,
Dead people die twice.
Once when they die.
And second when people stop talking about them.
It feels like I left her that way for a long time.
I don’t want to anymore.
I want to print a picture
put it on my wall. I will.

But you needed her,
In a way I didn’t.
And I could have been better.
We could have talked more.
We could talk more now.
I want to sit with you,
In a place where you don’t have to worry,
About who is there or not.
And we can talk. And cry.
I want to. And we will.
I want to be better for you.

You and I are the only things
Left of her.
After all.

I Wish I Could Fucking Hibernate!

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Sun, 27 Feb 2022 18:30:00 GMT

An ice age is triggered when summer temperatures in the northern hemisphere fails to rise above freezing for a number of years. That means that the winter ice fails to melt, but instead builds up, compresses and over time starts to compact into ice sheets.

But that is not how this story begins.

For the past couple of decades, every year had been the warmest recorded year in history. The scientists had been warning that this would occur since at least a couple of decades more. There was no coming back from this.

Scientists around the world came up with alternatives, a way to reverse the clock. Go back to pre-industrial levels of carbon in the air and temperatures around the world. Transitioning to renewables was no longer viable. The world has a funny habit of arguing, but eventually coming around, when lots of people die.

A deadly heat wave struck many states in the norther parts of India around the same time. The electrical grid could not cope with the increased demand. The lack of power, meant lack of cooling. Many, many people could not cope with it. A lot of people died. A lot more ended up scarred for life.

And so, as these things go, India became the most vocal proponent of the latest in geo-engineering technologies. The world’s first Strategic Sulphur Release facility came up in Bhopal. It started the world onto a path which led to the first time in decades of lower temperatures, all around year, all around the world.

The world congratulated itself. The world rejoiced. It saw lower average temperatures for the first time in decades. Temperatures three to four degrees lower than what had been the norm.

Then came the November of 2069.

We still don’t know what caused it for sure. The temperatures started dropping further than expected. Another tragedy occurred. And this time the people in the Scandinavia suffered.

The earth could not recover in time. It went from a period of extreme temperatures on one end to the other. Within five years, the planet had entered into the sixth major ice age.

The northern hemisphere became inhabitable. Multiple feet of ice sheets deposited over subsequent winters. The equatorial region remained habitable, but barely so.

Humanity moved underground in insulated caves. We were never going to meet the energy required to keep the world warm all year round. We had to hibernate for half of the year. Many corporations had already been working on similar life-supporting systems. The original purpose of these systems was to support life during long voyages in space. We retrofitted these systems so that they could work on earth, underground.

And so, we entered into a cycle of hibernation. For six months, all humanity rested, in their hibernation chambers. For the next six months, we woke up, performing maintenance on all the systems that kept us alive for the next six months.

Gaia managed the systems that kept us alive. Gaia was another one of the systems borrowed from the space program. It was an advanced AI system designed to operate the space ship and all its systems. It required minimal intervention from humans. It made a note of the things that needed maintenance. It made recommendations. It set the the priority order for the tasks that required human intervention. Most tasks didn't. However, we had designed Gaia with fail-safes in mind. Major tasks and decisions required authorisation from us humans. Tasks like closure of power plants, maintenance schedule for hibernation pods.

There was a hierarchy, a way for these things to work. Rooted in the corporate culture championed the world over. It worked like this.

The admins would collect and coagulate the data. The analysts would analyse the data and share a summary of actions to be taken. These summaries would then be compared against the recommendations made by Gaia. The section chief would then forward the approved actions to HQ. The HQ would apply the execution codes required for Gaia to perform the said actions.

This was how the system was supposed to work.

But given the number of decisions that needed to be made, the analysts quickly discovered that it would be way more efficient to just look at the recommendations made by Gaia and validate the data sets against that. And so they did that. This made the job of the higher ups easier as well, as there were no discrepancies between Gaia’s and the analysts’ recommendations.

Everyone was happier. They could get more done in less time. Efficiencies went through the roof! The system was working!

I woke up, shat, took a shower. Sat down meditating for fifteen minutes. Then got up, put the kettle on, put a spoonful of coffee in the coffee maker, poured hot water on top, and sealed it shut. A minute later, I pressed out the coffee onto a mug I had somehow saved from the old days. A minute later I was at my desk, logging into the system, sipping the hot coffee, looking at the mail.

Mere seconds after I had changed my status to online, I got a ping from Kari. Almost as if he had been waiting for me to come online.

“Hi” I typed back.

“Did you check my mail?”

“No” I lied. I had checked his mail. It was a long mail. The only sort Kari sent. And since I was still on my first cup of coffee, his mail had to wait. I had marked his mail as unread, to be read later. So technically, I did not lie.

“I will be there in five minutes. Check it. It’s urgent.”

“OK” I said.

Five minutes later Kari had taken a seat next to mine. I had put up the data he had sent on the big monitor.

“Do you see the problem here?” he said.

“Not in the mood right now K. Just tell me!”

“OK. OK. I was looking at the energy projections we had sent out. And it’s minor but I see this delta between what I had mentioned and what was actually sent out.”

I saw what he was saying. And a part of me wanted to lash out and tell him it wasn’t his job to be doing these projections, it was mine. But I wasn’t my boss. And so I did not say the first thing that came to me.

I alt-tab-ed to the projector app. Opened up the last month’s calculations.

“Any issue with the data?” I said, without looking at him.

“No” he said, “The data is consistent.”

“OK” I said. The calculations I had done showed the same values Kari had come up with. Strange. I could not remember now, why I had sent out different values. And then it hit me.

“Gaia” I said out loud to the emptiness of the room.

“Yes Soli” the AI replied.

“Can you bring up the habitat closure and maintenance stats for the upcoming month?”

The relevant data came up on the screen.

“Do you see it now Kari?” I said.

“Yes. I see it” he said.

I couldn’t sleep that night. Something kept nagging at me. I picked up my phone. 2 AM. Four more hours and I would have to wake up.

Just the four hours of sleep. I scolded myself. And forced my eyes shut.

I don’t know when I slept.

The first thing I did when I woke up was log into the system.

No point in acting like the routine would work today.

The messaging system popped up.

I could see Kari was online.

I pinged him. “No sleep?”

“Hardly any” he said.

“Coffee?” I said.

“5 mins” he said.

“I should not be on the system at this time. I should have been finishing my handover report. I should have been packing for my sleep. Well deserved might I add” I said.

I had disabled Gaia’s ambient settings for now. I did not want her listening. Or looking at things I was looking on. And so, I had to manually search and find the relevant data. In stead of just asking her.

“But you had to come up here yesterday and fill my mind with these ideas about deltas and missing numbers.”

“I was up too, you know” said Kari.

“I know. But you have time. You are going to go to sleep a week from now. Anyway. This is what I was looking for. Look, here.” I said. “These are the power plant closure projections. Let me put it on the large screen. There.”

I got up from the chair. Kari followed.

“That there, mid-month. You see it too, right? I’m not being crazy? Am I?”

“No. Might be nothing. Or might be catastrophic. I mean the end of the world type disaster. There is no scope for error here. This could bring down the grid, if there is even minor variance. I don’t understand how Gaia could recommend this..”

“Should we ask her?”

“What if she did it deliberately?”

“Let’s not go off the rails here. This is not a space odyssey. We are not dealing with killer AI.”

“Yes. But how do you explain this?” said Kari.

I fell silent.

“What are you thinking?” he said.

“Should we wake up Rakesh?”

“He went to sleep a week back, right?”

“Yes.”

“He will be pissed if we brought him up and it was for nothing.”

“I remember..” I said.

“Yes. I do too.”

I got up. I needed to feel my feet under me.

“So, what will you do?”

“I don’t know. I just wish I could fucking hibernate man!”

Kari laughed.

“There has to be something we are not seeing.” I said. “There is no conspiracy here. This is not my job. I did my job.”

“But..”

“No. No buts. If you want to wake Rakesh up. Be my guest. It will not be me this time around.”

“But, this could..”

“This could, but it won’t”

I got back to my desk and shut off the screens. The system could rest now. Just as I would. Starting tonight.

“Nothing will happen. Don’t worry. I will put up a memo. They can take it up with the bosses. We did our time. You should prepare for your sleep. I need to. I've already wasted too much time on this.”

“Yeah.” Kari got up. “But what if…”

“No what ifs… I will see you in six months. And we will laugh about the time we thought the AI was trying to kill us!”

Soli wrote a memo.

It was lost somehow.

No one else looked at the anomaly.

Gaia executed the orders it received the sign-off for.

There was an unexpected spike during the maintenance activity mid-week. It caused the grid to fail. Power backups kept the world running for a week. And then everything failed.

The ones in hibernation died in their sleeps. The ones awake were not so lucky.

Do You Trust Me?

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Sun, 30 Jan 2022 18:30:00 GMT

Thump!

I looked up. Some one had just put a whole new stack of files over the stack of files already present on my desk.

I sighed.

All I could see, without craning my neck, were files. Some new. Some old. All stuffed with papers that needed me to do something about them.

What?

Something.

I sighed. I looked at the clock on the opposite wall. Nine-fifteen in the morning.

I sighed.

Fifteen minutes passed. My phone buzzed. I looked up from the file I had buried my head in. The momentarily lit screen on my phone told me I had received a text. I picked up the phone.

“Good morning.”

I smiled.

Harsh and I had been together for the past six years. We had met at work. I pivoted, and decided that I wanted to pursue a career with the Government of India. He continued working where he was. He was in Germany now, and I at Kochi Customs.

This distance was not new to us. True it had increased recently, but this distance had always been there. The only difference was that along with the distance we had a time difference between us as well.

“Good morning” I texted back.

“How are you doing today?”

“Not particularly well” I replied.

“Oh?”

“Yep”

And that was that.

And that would be that for the next half an hour or so, till the man on the other end of the phone had finished going through his early morning rituals.

At ten, I received the next text.

“Listen. This might seem weird. But, do you have a desk phone?”

It did seem weird. But weird was normal. Weird was what we were.

“No.”

“So, if the commissioner wanted to reach you. How would he?”

“There’s a phone in the department. I would get a call there.”

“Oh”

“Yep”

“Why do you ask?” I said.

“Nothing. Research.”

“Oh.”

“Oh yes. Catch you in a bit” he said.

“TTYL”

“Love you”

“Love you more”

I put the phone down and got back to the task at hand.

At ten thirty, the phone in the section rang. It was the commissioner. I was needed.

I looked at the clock on the wall behind the secretary.

Five past eleven.

This was supposed to be urgent!

I had been sitting in the waiting area for the past thirty minutes. The Commissioner’s office was on the fifth floor of the Customs building. The lift was out of order, and so I had to take the stairs. I did not enjoy taking stairs. I did not enjoy waiting.

“He should be done in another five minutes” said the secretary.

I nodded. Smiled, absently.

The JC was just getting up as I entered the commissioner’s cabin.

“Good morning sir!” I said.

“Good morning Prerna” said the commissioner. “Take a seat”

I did.

A minute passed in silence while the JC gathered the files and left.

I did not like him.

“ Yes. Where were we?” said the commissioner, not really needing an answer. He continued, “Yes. Miss Prerna, you are needed at the airport. Right away. Take this” he said, handing me a sealed envelop. “Hand it over to Ramanujan at the airport. He should have something for you.”

It was not usual that I would be asked to escort packages like this. But, when the commissioner asked you to do something, you did.

I took the envelop and got up to leave.

“Also good job with the Custom’s day event.”

“Thank you sir”

“Check with Sarla madam for the transport and escort details”

“Ok sir” I said and left.

The official transport was a Toyota Innova. It was waiting as I reached the ground floor after picking up my belongings from my desk.

Sarla madam had informed me there would be escort assigned for the journey.

The man was sitting on the other side looking out the window as I opened the car door and got in.

“Hello” he said, as I settled in my seat. The driver started the car.

“Hello” I said. Something. My brain was telling me something. I pushed it back as I concentrated instead on finding a place for my bag, lunch box and the package.

“How are you doing?” he said.

That voice! It couldn’t be.

I looked up. It was him. He had removed the sun glasses. And had that impish smile on.

But how?

“Hey! Are you ok? Say something!” he said.

You are supposed to be in Finland. This can not be happening. How the fuck is this happening?

I was having difficulty getting the words out of my mouth.

I cried.

“Hey! It’s ok” he said.

“But .. how?” I said.

“Trust me” he said. I don’t know how or when but I had slid into his arms. My head resting against his chest.

“I love you” he said.

“I love you more” I said.

But how?

I recognised the plane. I had seen it on TV many times before.

What is happening?

The Innova had been joined by a motorcade of similar make and model cars as soon as we had left the Customs Office. The sirens were muted, but jarring still. We had cruised from the office to the airport in an hour. At no point did the motorcade stop, using an alternate entry at the airport to directly reach the tarmac. Now, we were standing at the tarmac, in front of the Air India One.

What is happening?

He took my hand in his. “Trust me” he said. Somehow that was enough.

We walked past the security personnel, up the stairs and inside the plane. We turned left, past the many seating areas until we reached a cabin door.

We entered. Harsh closed the door behind me.

As I stood in the centre of the room, it felt as if the walls were closing down on me. As if everything would collapse and I would wake up from whatever this was.

But then, I felt his hand on my arm. As real as anything could be.

I returned back to the room. The walls back where they were supposed to be.

This. What is this? What are we doing? Is this a dream?

Harsh looked at me, keenly, as if he could read my mind, my thoughts.

“If it were a dream”, he said, “would you spend it arguing what all this means, or..”

He pulled me close, and kissed me.

I found myself unable to respond those first few seconds. But then I found myself. I found him, his lips, his touch.

If it were a dream, I would rather be doing this.

I was woken up by the knocks on the cabin door. It took some time for me to find my feet. I found my clothes on the floor. I picked them up and put them on.

The knock recurred.

I was standing in the middle of the cabin. I could not see Harsh around. Maybe he had walked out?

I reached for the door. It was locked. I pulled the latch.

The steward was polite.

“Madam Prime Minister, we would be landing in fifteen minutes.”

I simply nodded and receded back into the cabin.

Madam Prime Minister?

I found myself pinching myself.

I winced, as I shouldn’t have. This had to be a dream. I should not have felt that. I should not be on this plane. I should not be called madam prime minister. I was no one’s prime minister.

It felt as if the walls were closing in on me. It felt as if the world would come crashing down unto me. But then I heard his voice.

And I knew.

Everything.

Whatever I was, you are it now.

There are rules, of course. There are limits. But I found out I could be whoever I wanted to be. Whatever I wanted to do, was possible. There are rules, of course. There are limits. I can not be in two places at once, for example. Whenever I travel, I have to use whatever is available, a plane, a train, a bus.

I could be whatever I wanted to be, and I was.

I wish I had the time to talk to you, to explain to you. Everything. I had plans. Man did I have plans!

But things changed.

I asked you to trust me, and you did!

You can talk to me whenever you want, but I wish you wouldn’t. I am gone now. I wish I had more time. I wish we had more time. I wanted to roam the world with you. I wish we had more time.

Whatever you need to know, you know it now.

This is your fight now.

I know you will win.

Musings

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Mon, 07 Jan 2019 03:30:00 GMT

Prologue

“You sure we’re going correct?”

“Yes, absolutely”

“Coz, I for one, don’t wish to spend my wedding anniversary sitting in a car!”

“No! No! No! I’m quite sure!! See, there goes the petrol pump. Now I have to turn a right and that will…”

“Look Up! Look Up!!”

“God damn it! What the f…?”

A man stood in front of the i10, his clothes were tattered; there were scratches all around; scars were visible on his forehead. He quickly moved to the driver’s seat.

“Please! Please!! You’ve gotta help me! My.. My friends!! Anya… God!! I don’t know where they are…!”

Prabhakar didn’t wait for more, he stepped on the gas.

“Hmhhh…. My friends…Blah Blah Blah”, he mocked, “The next second, he’d have a pistol at your face.. Fuckin’ lowlife..! I’m not a fool who’d….”

A loud scream filled the air, punctuated with sounds of metal crunching into human skulls, and into some more metal. The truck that performed the ritual, passed into the thick fog, in just the way it had appeared.

In dino, dil mera,mujhse hai, keh raha, tu jile zaraa….

“So…, where are we goin’ again?”

“Dalhousie!”

“And, why does Rawat think this is a bad plan??”

“Coz, we’re a week from sessional”, screamed Rawat from the back to Sarthak’s enquiry. All of us fell about laughing.

Anya was still sleeping; the wind, flirting with her hair. God! How I loved this girl!!

”The Blue Lagoon”, read the neon sign outside the Dhaba.

“Lets go!!”

The four of them; Patel, Rawat, Sarthak and Sharma got out.

“C’mon babe! Lets go!”

“Hmm”, she said; still toying with her dreams.

I took her in my arms; she giggled.

It was a chilly December morning; I was at her college, waiting. Official business you see!!

“Hey”, I forwarded my hand, “Sharib”.

She was looking stunning in whatever she had worn that day( I never pay due heed in this department )

“Heya!”, she accepted my hand. “Anya”, she continued, “So, you ready for the job?”

“All in for you, I mean IF”

The December frost shaded my nervous shaking. I giggled, “It’s cold!!”

The meal was fun, duly punctuated with my one-liners. It was 12:05.

“We need to hurry, C’mon!!”, Sarthak was adamant.

“Deadlines are not meant to be met…!!”, I said.

I did get the look on his face though, “Accha Accha!! Lets saddle up, guys!!!”

Our bunch moved on.

“Hey, I forgot my hand bag back there. I’ll just get it back”, she said.

“I’ll be in the hatch!”

She smiled at me, it was pristine.

I’m on a highway to hell..

“Would you change the track??”, this was almost the hundredth time, Angana was asking him to do so; and this was also the hundredth time, she was gonna get the same reply.

“No”

“God, why the heck am I stuck with you?! Why?!! Why?!!”

John laughed on.

“You sure we’re going right, coz…”

“Yeah, Yeah I’m dead sure. See….”, he pointed to the map, he had in his hand; “We’re currently on NH-20, a few kilometers more and we’d cross over into SH-33; then…”

“Look Up!!”, screamed Angana.

“Holy shit!!”

John pushed his foot down as hard and as fast as he possibly could.

The man in front of the Scorpio quickly moved to the driver’s window.

“Open up please!!”, “I… my friends.., are in danger!!”

John put his hand on the Glock and rolled down the window.

“W…We were at this Dhaba; then, I don’t know, I…., when I woke up, they were all gone. You, you have to help me. Please!! Anya, God!! I don’t know where she is!! How is she!!! I need to see her… Please! Please!!”

“Whoa whoa mate!! Easy! Easy! Come on in!! I’ll get a lil’ something for ya!!” John tucked in the Glock.

The man was in tatters, clothes were shredded, had scratches all around his arms and fore head. Angana passed him the first aid kit, “Here!”

“I don’t need this! You don’t understand!! I need to find my friends please!!”

John came out of the back, “Here, you need it”. He passed on a bottle of Gatorade.

“Can you please move on”, the man pleaded.

“Ya! But first you have to tell us what happened!”, demanded Angana.

The man went into a deep thought, trying to come up with bits of whatever little he remembered.

“We were on a road trip to Dalhousie….”

“She went in to get that bag of hers… “, he paused, “And that was the last time, I was with her, Anya…! Only God knows how she is!!”

“That place, hmm…, it’s.. It’s a few kilometers on this stretch; but…”

“Yeah! We’ll drop you there!!”, John cut her short.

John drove fast; the man was adamant; there was a dire need to reach the place, quick.

“Stop! Stop right here!!”, screamed the stranger.

“What happened??!”

“I know this place. Yeah! This is where we parked Fortuner. Yeah! But…”, the man looked all around, “Where is the Dhaba??!! I don’t get it..! God! Anya!!!”.

He screamed, “Anya..!”

John and Angana had joined him by now.

“Maybe you’re mistaken…”

A slight flicker of light shone in the woods. The man didn’t hesitate for a second; he ran straight in…

“Hey wait…!”, Angana shouted, but it was already too late; John was quickly back with his bag, “Lets go!”

“Are you kiddin’??!”

“What? Why? This is serious! We have to give it a dekko…”

“But..”

“C’mon Now!!!”, John dragged her with him.

The woods soon gave way to a walled structure. The man went looking for a gate. A beautifully carved wooden gate stood in front of him. He did not have time for pleasantries, he pushed it open. The place had the look of an ASI monument, there were 5 domes, 1 central, the rest forming a sort of square. All were connected to each other via pathways. It was dim, The lone light shone on the central dome. A woman was standing in front of it.

The man didn’t have the time to let the woman finish.

“Err…! I’m sorry, this may sound a lil’ weird; and you might not be willing to help either, but, have you seen a silver Fortuner…”

The woman had by now turned.

“Why wouldn’t I be willing to..”, she put some light on the man’s face, “You?!!”

She reached for his face, “But.. But!!”

The man stepped back, “I’m sorry, but I don’t… I’m looking for my friends; one of them is a gal, Anya. Have you seen any of them?? Please..! This girl means life to me..!”

The expression on the women’s face changed;

“I don’t…. What are… Don’t you….”

She grabbed him and forced the dome onto him. In the flickering light, he could make out the text written on the fore.

In remembrance

Sharib Prakash

22.11.91 – Forever

A bunch of white roses adored the base. The man got back in shock.

“No! No ! This is not….! You’re crazy! This is a lie!! I’m not…. Anya!!! Where is she?? You tell me woma, or I swear to God….!”

In the faint light of the dome, he could make out the small pendant around the woman’s neck.

“The chain that came with it wore down… Had to get a new one made…”, the woman quipped.

“I don’t understand… How is this…”

“You have to let go…”

“What if I don’t wish to…!?!”

“You have to!!”

“I can’t. I just can’t”

“Please Baby..! Do it for me..!”

“I…”

“I love you. Remember that? “

“I love you. Remember that!!!”

___________________________________________________

“We have to get this back”, John quipped.

“This; this right here is our ticket to fame. All these years…”

“No”, said Angana, “Some relations are too pristine, let’s not exploit them. Please?!”

John threw the tape down. A few seconds later, it was up in flames.

New Delhi

Some time back

CNN HQ

“This has to be our most challenging job so far”, quipped Angana. John shook his head in support.

“This particular stretch has seen as many as thirteen road kills. All on this particular day May 3rd, all around 12 am, all in the same pattern”, John explained.

“Hmm.. Anything more?”, demanded the head honcho Sanjeev.

“Yeah. The first case, in which these five college kids got rattled; is the only one in which the vehicle which did the damage was found. In all other cases, only the victim vehicles have been found….”

“Hmm… So, which way is it gonna be?”

“We’ve got a plan chalked out… It’d be just the two of us; with a bugged vehicle. The other crew should be following at a 1km range. Plus I need a Glock boss..!! “, John grinned.

“You got it. Let’s bust this myth too!!!”, Sanjeev got up, followed by the team; “By the way the last job was nice”

As asked, they got a bugged Scorpio, and John , his Glock!! At around 9, John and Angana set sail…!

#80 in an Year of Mornings

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Sun, 19 Nov 2017 18:00:52 GMT

#67 in an Year of Mornings

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Mon, 06 Nov 2017 18:00:30 GMT

#66 in an Year of Mornings

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Sun, 05 Nov 2017 18:00:24 GMT

#19 in an Year of Mornings

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Tue, 19 Sep 2017 21:00:50 GMT

#16 in an Year of Mornings

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Sat, 16 Sep 2017 20:24:47 GMT

A Couple of Rasagullas

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Mon, 12 Jun 2017 21:00:00 GMT

The bus to Hajipur was late by an hour. It was nothing new, or in that matter, exceptional. The woman and her son got down. The road crumbled beneath their feet.

“Chaliye madam, badhte rahiye!”

The woman, moved on; carrying her son in her arms. The boy never demanded much, but that did not mean he had to live in want for anything; his mother understood her needs. It was a circular-ring sort of situation.

The place bore that typical Bihar town look; shops were typically rectangular, constructed in wood. Wind helped plaster dust on their faces, they moved on. The first stop was ‘Chandan Sweets’. The kid’s eyes gleamed; a box of rasagullas were packed. Ahh! Life is sweet!!, he thought…

A rickshaw to her village chowk was booked. It ferried on. The woman bought a sweet typical of Bihar, something her father loved: ‘lai’. The rickshaw dropped them off at the chowk. It would be a good half an hour walk to her place. A long walk through the mango orchards ensued, a part of which was inherited by the woman herself. The Sun was scarcely visible; hence it appeared to be dawn at noon. They decided to rest. The boy looked at the box of rasagullas, her mother was looking the other way. Maybe, he could snake a few!

The thought remained what it was! Just a thought!! The rest of the passage consisted of the local government school, a ‘tari’ shop and the pond. The pond was of prime importance as it was around this place only that ‘pojhiyan’- the Sunday market was arranged. She finally reached home. Her brothers welcomed her with open arms, and animated faces. The kids, watched in sheer amusement, after all it was their ‘bua’, who had arrived; which meant loads of gifts and sweets!!

None was disappointed, the pack was opened. The kid’s eyes lit-up, finally!! His mama called up his name, two pieces of rasagulla were bulging out of his hands. The kid ran, his mama followed; round and round they went, laughing, screaming, jumping. In due time, his mama gave up the chase; the kid went back to have his trophy. He was back, just in time, to witness his mama gallop the two pieces in one go. The kid’s face turned sour.

“What happened??”

“Nothing”

They Killed Some More Men Today

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Fri, 08 Jul 2016 21:00:26 GMT

They killed some more men today,
At a place where men kneel,
To gods, looking down at men.
They killed some more men today,
With a gun, a bomb, and a knife,
There was a man, a woman, and a child.
They killed some more men today,
They said it was for the good cause,
Their cause. Their fight. Their war.
They killed some more men today.
They killed some more men today.

I wonder, at times, what to do the gods think,
Of this cause, this fight, this war.
I wonder if the gods think alike.
I wonder if the gods think.
How puny! Of us, to think of gods as men,
Angry gods. Jealous gods. Demanding gods.
But then, I stop thinking.
These are men. Puny men. Jealous men.
They bicker. They fight. They slaughter.
In a misconceived notion, a fit of zealous bigotry.
Fuck them!

Sometimes I wonder, if we will survive.
I get afraid, scared, of the power these crazy men hold,
In walled-off, crystal worlds of theirs.
‘We share the same boat!’
I want to shout, but, then, I don’t.
That’s the beauty of science.
Evolution takes care of these things.
We will live if we are fit.
We will live, if we stop being afraid.
We will live if we stop being animals.
We will live if we can look at the stars, together,
And think of our place in them.

Dragon-Slayer

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Mon, 13 Jun 2016 21:25:43 GMT

You ask me not to imagine,
You ask me not to build,
Castles of glass, and sand.
You are afraid of what they do to me.
What they make me do.
You’re right. In parts.

I walk in the castle,
With my eyes open.
I know what they are.
I walk. Don’t stop to stare.
Or lay down in bed.
I walk, through the castle.

You ask me to stop walking.
Or so I think. Realize. Feel.
I can’t stop that. Walking. Making.
I need to keep making the castles.
Not need. Its natural, usual, knee-jerk.
I create castles out of thin air.
I make dragons, for you to slay.
I can not not do that. Its natural.
Its usual. Its who I am.
The writer. The dreamer. The story-teller.

Sometimes, I Wish

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Sat, 04 Jun 2016 21:23:41 GMT

Painter and his muse

Sometimes, I wish I were a painter,
And not a poet,
So that I had a better reason,
To sit, and stare,
To have you, sitting across from me.

You’d be my muse,
As you are now,
But not just in my head,
You’d be out there,
Physically, in front on me,
And I’d faint creation.

Sometimes, I wish I were a painter,
And not a poet.
Sometimes, I wish I were a painter,
And not a poet.

Why Build Walls?

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Fri, 03 Jun 2016 20:06:55 GMT

We build walls.
Bricks. Cement. Slug.
We build walls,
Strong, high, menacing,
Forbidding any to breach,
Enter our hearts,
And minds, and souls.
When in need,
We go deeper,
Inside the shell.
Do you know,
Why we do that?
Why we trust us,
More than others?
More than those,
Who love us, care for us?
It’s fear. I think. Fear.

Washed Lands

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Wed, 01 Jun 2016 21:27:54 GMT

Washed lands, moist soil…

There is on an average one poem that I write each day. That, gives me at least one thing to post each day here. Come to think of it, that’s a good way to manage post a day.

On that note, here’s one I wrote yesterday, as it rained outside, and I sat slaving the day away inside the building, the cubicles.

Washed lands. Moist soil.
Gray skies. Cold wind.
You and me. Me and you.
In a thunderstorm baby,
In a thunder storm.
Dancing to the tunes,
Of the rumbling moon.
You and me baby. Me and you.

There can be no fire,
Here, in a weather so damp.
Says who? The thinker.
The scientist. The sane man.
And still there’s fire,
The friction. We birthed it,
Our own. Lightning. And fire.
You and me. Baby, me and you.

Gloomy weather makes for moody me. And moody me, makes for poems like these. The feeling captivity, when the said weather happens at moments when I am confined to the office, also makes for interesting thoughts on the nature of work, and the consumerist tendencies, and mindsets that have taken hold amongst most of us.

It makes me yearn for a way out.

It makes me yearn.

It's Funny!

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Tue, 15 Mar 2016 00:00:00 GMT

It's funny!

It’s funny how all poems,

Which talk of love, are born

of separation, solitude.

It’s funny. And not.

It’s funny, how, when the thing you love,

Is away from you,

do you really come to realise,

How much you love it.

It’s funny. And not.

It’s funny how short life is,

And still, despite the fact,

We act as infinite.

All the time in the world!

It’s funny. And not.

It’s funny, how I do what I want not,

And continue to do so,

In the name of society, culture, sense.

The shackles I put on me.

It’s funny. And not.

It’s funny how clear things are,

And still we run in mazes,

Created, of course, by the brilliant minds

That run us. Yours and mine.

Nothing matters. Not really.

And still, we walk blind.

It’s funny. And not.

Everything Withers Away

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Sun, 31 Jan 2016 21:00:41 GMT

Everything withers away. Everything.
I envied something yesterday,
Today, when I walked past it,
I saw the cracks appear in it,
Almost out of nowhere!
But then, I remembered,
Everything withers away. Everything.
It’s about time, all the time.
Time numbs things out, pain, pleasure,
Beauty, strength. Time numbs all.
Nothing survives. Nothing but time.
Time is the one true constant in this world.
Nothing stands in its way.
Everything withers away. Everything.

So then, why do we live…
Struggle, go through the motions?
Why? Why indeed? I don’t know.
Love, maybe. That’s what life is.
Isn’t it? Maybe I’m a romantic,
But, I’m a realist too. I see things dying.
People leaving. And somehow, the world
Continues to revolve. It’s love, then,
Isn’t it? Love makes the world go round!
Love mends the broken. The tired.
For I know time is the one true constant.
Nothing stands in its way.
Everything withers away. And so,
love exists. To mend the withering.
To maintain. To paint. To build.
Love exists, to bring balance to time.

Everything withers away. But love.

My Muse

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Sun, 17 Jan 2016 21:35:46 GMT

Source: Google Images

I’ve had muses.. now and before.
I’ve had muses.
That thing, which held my hand,
And walked me through a story,
Or a poem I wrote, later.
That thing, which was actually
A person. Or so I thought.
But then the person left.
My muse however, did not.
Infact, she found a vigour I had never
Seen in her before. She found
Passion, and sorrow, and love.
And she found me, in those days of
Despair, held my hand through the darkness.
Gave me the strength to hold the pen,
And put some blotches in ink on the paper.
I’ve had muses.. now and before.
I’ve had muses.

Time is one of those things,
That things you can never be sure of
Liking or hating.
Time does not care though. She is,
Was, and will be. She is the constant.
My muse on the other, is anything but.
She is a case in constant change.
The treacherous trustworthy woman in life,
Hard to please, Harder to keep,
Impossible to let go of!
My muse left me, hence. Left me dry,
Having consoled me in need. Or,
having done, taken, what she needed,
From me. Either ways, I was left alone,
In need. In desperate need.
See, I hadn’t just lost my muse,
I had lost her voice in my head, her soul,
From all I dared write. Nothing I made,
Was mine. And then, you found me.

See, I’ve had muses.. now and before.
I’ve had muses. But none like you.
You came to me as a result of a coincidence,
But then isn’t life a series of sometimes happy,
And at other times sad coincidences?
I think it is. As I found you, I find my voice,
My muse suddenly returned, only to be killed
Off by my sloth. But it did not matter, for with
You, had returned my muse. And I still don’t
Know if you are it, and it you. Or it’s something
Else entirely. You keep pestering me, to write
You a poem. Give you an ode. And I find it hard
To do. For I find it hard to describe you.
You are not a story, a thought I could pull out,
And put down on a piece of paper.

See, I’ve had muses.. now and before.
I’ve had muses. But none like you.
None so tenacious, none so complex,
None so beautiful, none so true.
I want to write of you, really I do,
But I don’t think I can, or ever will.
There’s just too much to you, as a person.
As an idea. But be assured my love,
That all that I write from now, till ever,
Will have something of you, if not be of you.
See, I’ve had muses.. now and before.
I’ve had muses. But none like you.

The Second One

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Tue, 15 Dec 2015 21:00:48 GMT

Come with me, you had said.

Come. Love. Live.

I’m not the ordinary,

the same, the mundane.

I’m a poet, a writer, a lover.

I’ll teach you what love is,

I’ll shower you in prose,

make you my muse.

What happened to that?

I ask you, what happened to that?

Come with me, I had said.

Come. Love. Live.

And I am not ordinary,

no one is! Not you, or me,

or the man in the rat race.

We are all unique, and maybe,

all the same. Looking for love.

Looking for life. And I still plan

on teaching you, what love is.

Showering you, in prose, and love,

Making you the subject,

And object of my work.

One poem!

One poem, in the whole wide year.

That’s what you gave me.

One poem. Far from a shower.

And you don’t need to teach me

What love is. I know what love is.

Show me. Show me instead.

Come with me, you had said.

I’m not the ordinary, you had said.

Well this is ordinary.

This is how it always uncoils.

Life opens up its fangs,

And bites us, incapacitates us.

Hmm. One poem.

You are right you know. One poem.

That’s what I’ve given you.

It’s been an year since we

Were separated. That was when

I had written that poem. Sitting

In the train, lost in my world,

And your thoughts. That’s when I

Had written that. And this.

Not in a train, but a cab.

Lost in my world, however. And you.

I don’t know if this mends things.

This is not about mending things.

This is about you. Showering you

In prose, and love. Showing you

What love is. Telling you that life might

Open its fangs, but I will grab those fangs,

And break them. Before it incapacitates us.

See.. I am not the mundane, the ordinary.

I am a poet, a writer, a lover.

And how’s this for muse?!

Do You Remember?

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Thu, 01 Jan 2015 22:55:07 GMT

Do you remember the plains my love?
Do you remember the rains my love?

You are amongst the waters now,
In a land of plenty, and more.
There is water all around,
The weather’s nice and gay.
The Sun shines, but just enough,
To leave a tinge of red,
In an otherwise perfect blue of skies.
The air is not that cold, or hot,
The breeze lulls you to sleep.
The birds sing, and wake you from sleep,
There’s plenty to eat, and drink!

I, am in the mountains my love,
Cold, dark and stark.
There’s no sun in the skies,
It’s all gray, and damp!
There’s food, and water,
But all’s frozen!
No birds, no dogs, no cats either,
But plenty of men around.
My men, my people!

I know I chose this, my love,
The time in the mountains.
I know the times, are hard for you.
I know the food’s raw,
The drink sour, the birds hoarse!
I know you are in pain, the head hurts!
The oceans are salty,
The island a prison!

I know this.

Do you remember, though, the plains my love?
Do you remember the rains my love?

I remember the mornings in your arms,
The long walks, the fine breakfast!
I remember the day in toil,
In hunger, and fire. Fire. Yes.
The fire that consumed us,
Forged us into one.
Yes, the fire. Yes, that fire!
I remember the restless evenings,
The walks in the night.
You’d hold my hands, and talk and laugh!
I’d hold yours, and smile, and see.
I saw you, my angel, my hope!
I walked with you, and forgot the world.

Do you remember the plains my love?
Do you remember the rains my love?

Time flows, it does my love!
The only dimension worth any effort.
Do you remember the plains my love?
The walks, the laughs, the frights, the smiles?
Do you remember the rains my love?
I see dimensions, the people and all.
They’re all here, around, across.
They see me I see them.
I see me, me sees I.
Do you see the future my love?
The laughs, the walks, the frights, the smiles?
Do you see the rains my love?
The curtains of water, the rivers of light?
Do you feel my touch my love?
My hands in yours, your lips on mine?

Do you remember the rains my love?
Do you remember the plains my love?

That Blue Bird!

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Mon, 03 Nov 2014 20:56:00 GMT

A bird sat on my shoulder that day.

No, really!

It had pristine blue feathers,

A long mundane beak,

And a crown on its head.

It sang a song I hadn’t ever heard before,

A song so beautiful, so melodious

That it made me forget

The world I lived in.

The pace, the sorrow, the fears,

It all flew away that day,

The bird thankfully never did!

I could almost swear that

It would smile whenever

I looked away. Smile. Really.

I did not have a hard time imagining it.

For I could, and can imagine stuff

With so much vividness that

it becomes too hard to differentiate.

But I never actually saw it smiling.

It would almost always be there,

at the periphery,

But I’d never be able, or quick enough.

Here’s a funny thing though.

I never asked the bird what it wanted.

Why me? Why it?

Never. Not once.

It was out of character,

Certainly for me.

I never asked it, what would it want eventually,

In exchange for the songs?

What was the motto, the aim?

The bird could hear my thoughts,

It sang accordingly.

But it never answered any of my questions.

It just sat there,

On my shoulder, singing.

I heard it once, or thought I did.

It was singing a song

Which said something about

Mistakes and people.

Sorrow and happiness.

I never asked it why it sat there,

Why it sang the songs it sang.

Why? What? Who? For whom?

And it never responded.

Ever.

It just sat there,

On my shoulder,

Singing.

There Was This Boy in School

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Fri, 18 Jul 2014 08:31:59 GMT

There was this boy in school,

his name was Yatin.

It was a long time ago,

this, almost a decade or so.

We used to run, really run;

not on a playstation, or an xbox,

we did not have these back then.

All we had was running,

loads and loads of it,

in circles, in lines,

zipping in and around,

we ran and ran!

There was this game we played,

Chain-Chain it was called.

The boy whose turn it was,

would try and catch the rest.

Anyone he caught, would run along,

and they’d try to catch the rest.

And so it went,

till all were caught.

The first one caught,

would be the next one to catch.

We would run, and run;

and run some more,

till the bell would ring.

There was this boy in school,

his name was Yatin.

And he was the only boy I could catch.

I would run, and run;

run harder still,

but the others ran too fast,

like little rats,

from one place to the rest.

No matter how hard I ran,

he was the only one I could outrun!

And so, each time I looked,

I found only him,

And no matter how hard he run,

I would still catch him!

It was a day,

like any other day.

I was on the ground that day,

looking around,

as it was my turn.

I ran, and ran,

and ran some more,

but I could not find him!

But no matter how hard I ran,

they ran harder still,

like little rats they ran.

There was this boy in school,

his name was Yatin;

And yesterday was the last day I saw him!

Who'll Fight My Wars?

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Tue, 15 Jul 2014 00:00:00 GMT

Who'll fight my wars?

Who’ll fight my wars?
Who? Who’ll fight my wars?

You.
Yes, you!
Remember what they did to your brother?
Your mother, your sister?
They raped her; them.
They raped them,
Burned them alive.
All while you watched!
Scared, afraid, from afar,
From the crowds;
Afraid that they’ll burn you too!

Not anymore, no!
Don’t be afraid anymore.
It’s time you struck fear,
In their hearts, homes, cities, nations!
You, yes, you!
Pick up the gun,
Anyone.
Or the bomb,
Go on!
And burn their houses,
Rape their women and children
While they watch;
Scared, afraid from the crowds.
Afraid, yes, afraid!

You, yes, you
Will fight my wars!

Can’t you see;
The God in me?
I’m his voice,
His hand.
I see his will.
‘Fight’ He says
‘Fight for your rights;
And the rights of your people!’
‘Fight!
For our place in world is in danger!’
‘Fight or Perish!’

But fight!
I command you.
Fight!

Burn cities and towns
Kill each and all;
Don’t think!
I’ll do that for you know;
You are my son nw, my righteous flock!
I will take care of my own.

You will go to heaven!
Bravery and a just cause
Don’t ever go unrewarded.
Bravery, and a just cause!

What is just?
My wars are holy, just.
Fight! Fight through hell down here,
For heaven once you are gone!
Fight! For there’s no hope down here;
But death and hurt!
Fight! For there are angels up there;
Angels, and milk and honey.
Fight my wars for me, son;
For I am your God,
And you will fight my wars.

Day Seven: Questions

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Wed, 19 Mar 2014 21:45:00 GMT

Is life all questions and no answers?
And do the answers even matter?
Aren’t questions all that propel us?
Make us get up in the morning and strive; harder and fiercer
A hope that there’ll be answers at the end of the tunnel.
But there’s no answers anywhere,
And that does not mean there’s no hope!
There’s hope. And love.

Day Two: The Lone Patch

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Fri, 14 Mar 2014 20:44:41 GMT

There was a time when it was all green here,
That time is long gone now,
There’s all but green here now!
Civilisations are born past, skulls, murders and cries I know,
Those cries, those skulls, they do have a purpose you know.
Purpose? you say.
Purpose, yes.
To fill you with guilt, sorrow, remorse;
But there were no cries, when the green was murdered.
There was, we were all just too blunt I guess,
We chose to ignore, face the other way.
When will their cries reach our minds?
When will we face the death?
When will we take note of the skulls?
Perhaps tomorrow.
Perhaps never.

I Deceive

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Fri, 08 Nov 2013 10:08:35 GMT

I deceive people with words all day,

I lie,

I tell them to live, to die one day!

I deceive people with words all day!

Who am I?

What am I?

A bin? A dump?

Good? Bad?

Am I God?

Mind is all that matters,

Mind is what drives, decides, brings you down!

Mind is the soul, the heart of man!

Mind is the friend, the enemy of man!

Mind is growth, mind is failure.

Mind is birth, death, destruction.

Who am I? What am I?

Am I God?

For I teach control;

Or a mere man?

For I help, I guide.

I deceive people with words all day!

I lie.

I tell them to live to die one day!

I give them hope, assurances.

Life is beautiful,

People are beautiful.

They live, to die someday.

I live, broken, beaten, scarred

I loose myself in them each day

I live to lie, to deceive, to die one day!

Stolen Mint

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Fri, 25 Jan 2013 21:37:34 GMT

I looked up,

empty faces looked down upon me.

I tried to look away,

a castlesque house, an oversized vehicle;

two in fact, looked back at me!

‘Bad photoshop’ I quipped,

‘Home & car loan’ – the ad read;

‘Bad ad’, I shut my eyes again!

I tried to remember something,

couldn’t quite put a finger on it!

Smiled at the sad, rather expressionless faces;

Smiled perhaps a bit for self!

I shut them eyes again, knowing very well

this’d be the last of the naps I’d be getting this morning!

Life has become such; of late

holding bars, looking at faces, looking for faces!

Life has become such of late;

future, the thoughts of it always seem to be crowding the brain!

It’s a mindless scramble this,

a scramble for jobs, placements, salaries!

‘How do you feel on your birthdays?’ he asks.

‘Fucked up’ I reply.

Clearly, this wasn’t what my pal was looking for, as an answer.

Too late now; ‘Bad memories’ I continue!

I can see it in his eyes;

he wants to talk, talk about her;

and so we talk!

I now remember that something I was thinking about earlier.

‘Anya!’

There’s always this yearn, this wish;

just to see her, not necessarily talk, just look at her!

And hence, during this particular stretch,

there’s this childish want that maybe, today, I get to see her!

Today was one such day.

Looking at that ad,

There wasn’t anything in particular

which could’ve triggered the want

yet, here I was, hoping!

Amidst all that; the helplessness, the want, the anticipation

A part of me took it’s turn;

Quite suddenly, out of nothingness,

And said, ‘She doesn’t even use this stretch anymore, you fool!’

I look at my friend.

He is sitting here, alongside me,

staring into nothingness.

I put my hand around his shoulders.

‘Hey! Go watch Little Manhattan today!’

‘Yeah, yeah, seen it ten times!’ he says.

‘You’ll always remain my first love (Anya)’, I say.

He smiles, I join in!

Cannibal!

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Fri, 07 Sep 2012 20:55:24 GMT

Another wave of soapy oceanic water crashed against the jagged spiky rocks. It was the end of town limits, end of earth, beginning of ocean. You could almost always find warm water livestock stuck in the rocks, but you never could catch any. This was the nature of things around the house.

The house that rest on top of these rocks found balance via, a combination of timber and concrete. The house was old; it was used as a look-out shelter during pre-independence era. There were a few reasons for it. Primarily, it was so because of the fact that it was surrounded on three sides by these rocks; the last side could be accessed only if you were returning from town.

These days a certain Badri Narayan was the sole occupant of the house. It was speculated that the ground was profane and Mr. Narayan was some sort of a male witch; but none of the speculations could of course be proved! Most of it was probably false and was in place because of the remote location of the house and the fact that the owner of the nearest tea stall aspired to be a successful writer in Kollywood and hence enjoyed telling stoppers-by about his encounter with the unseen, the unheard, and the eerie in and around the God-forsaken house.

The fact that Mr. Narayan seldom got out of his house and whenever did, wasn’t exactly friendly, or for that matter even happy (none had seen him smile) did not help the matters. Come to think of it, nobody had seen him talking to anyone except the postman, who, in spite of how-so-ever he hated it, had to go to the house twice a month. It was hard to imagine someone in relation to him. To know that there was actually someone writing to him was hence, certainly overwhelming. The first of them arrived on the 13th of each month; this one was a money order. The other one was a normal letter; nobody had any slightest clue as to the contents of this letter. It was almost like clockwork; maybe the rumors were true after all!

____________________________________________________

Vishnu was new in town. He was an employee in the Ministry of New and Renewable Energy. His job included transfer to some random town in some district of some state; working out the logistics of installation, reporting it back in and then wait till part of the cost estimate reached his hands after considerable deductions. Then came the Gram Panchayats , they also demanded a certain part of the estimate. Finally, with whatever was left, he always managed installing a certain version of what was actually planned and also getting away with it. Then; another town, another estimate, another version. This time it was here, Podikatakapuram.

Vishnu did not particularly like this place. One, because it was his second straight visit down south and he being a typical Bihari was not too fond of the cuisine. Second, because getting away with doing nothing down here was comparatively more difficult down here. It all seemed to be a terrible waste of his time and energy. Add to that, the fact that only Telugu cinema was played in the local theatre and all the channels on TV were either Telugu or dubbed in it.

He was not really welcome any place except the local municipal department; but then he was not too fond of the place. He wanted to get out of here, quickly and hence, all he used to do was get up at eight am sharp and get on with the field trips. Half a month had passed since he had requested for the funds, yet there was no reply till date.

The weather was fine that day. He got an idea. He had heard from his driver about the house, the supposed profane grounds and the man. He thought, Why not!?

Lost

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Wed, 22 Aug 2012 14:02:54 GMT

There’s light.

It’s bright.

I’m standing in a row. It stretches from one infinity to another. I mean, I think it does. You’re not supposed to peep. So, all that I’m able to see is a head, the back, the back of the legs. I’m not sure if the person standing in front of me is alive.

I don’t know if he’s dead; I don’t know if I am.

‘Anybody? Anybody?’, I scream.

The voice is lost; somewhere inside. I’m not supposed to speak either, I think.

Is this a dream? Or, am I dead?

The Foragers

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Sat, 18 Aug 2012 02:30:00 GMT

I’m woken up by the loud knocks on my cabinet door.

"Oh, c’mon people, I haven’t slept for the last 36 hours", I say to myself.

I have to comply though, and so I do.

"No one breaks protocols here", says Gen. Rawat. He is at the door, a minion in tow.

"Yeah yeah, I remember" I say. I am too groggy to care about protocols and niceities. "So what got you up here?" I say.

“The Fuel Regeneration Unit is facing some problems. The Chief Engineer...”, he says, “tried to fix it up, but to no avail. The machine just would not start.”

"And this could not wait a couple of hours?"

The general does not say anything. The minion's face betrays me. He clearly can not fathom anyone talking to the general like that.

"You are aware of the timelines?" says the general.

“Give me a minute. I need to change” I say and shut the door.

Welcome to my world**.**

I am Harsh Kumar, the second-in-command, on board, The Voyaguer . Our great race has been reduced to just a few of us, forced to live as a scavenger race. Our leaders were just not competent enough to foresee the dangers of an ever-growing arms race. Well, someday, somebody was bound to press the button. And they did.

Some of us had prepared for the worst. And so we survived.

“What's happening here?” I say.

“Not much, the injection system continues to operate at sub-optimal levels.”

“You do remember we have a timeline, do you?”

“Yeah, I do. And, as if, that’s not enough those maggots just wouldn’t give up….”

“Hmmm…”, I smiled away. “As if you were born adduce…..”

Sometimes, sitting in a lone corner of my cabin, I think “Why couldn’t they see the obvious ? ” “Why couldn’t they give peace a chance ..?” But, a man in my position is not allowed to express. So the thoughts just get buried. We were currently positioned at XA8EE041, not exactly positioned, our target had been the Planet XA8EE042, dubbed “Blue Marbel”, but technical failures had forced us here since the last year.

Though the civilization down there was still in a dormant stage, yet they had an uncanny knack of continuing their endeavor. It is their this characteristic of which I’m a huge fan. And perhaps, that’s why we’ve been ordered not to reveal ourselves. Just to avoid the possibility of repeating the massacre of Oracle. My father used to tell me about this massacre in which we lost thousands of our men and women. In the end, we had to run, but the loss had been incurred.

I was forced back to reality by the loud wailing of the siren.

“Emergency . All officers report to station. This is not a drill. Emergency……”

“What’s the status ”?

“They just crossed the critical elevation limit . I would say they’re going to land !”

“That can’t be! Previously, they returned…… ” I just couldn’t find words. “How come they find about us ? ” Maybe all this while they were just pretending. I had no time. I had to make a decision.

“Prepare for evac. Code 97. Now”, I screamed.

“But….”

“Just do as I say ……” “We don’t have any time to kill”

“What about the operation module ? ”

“Don’t worry, We’ll be back …”

C1: “ Hey wat’s that spot of light there ?”

C2: “Don’t think too much. Must be you’re eyes playing tricks”

Both laugh.

C2:”OK. Now, let’s get the job done.”

“ Preparing touch-down in 3… 2… 1… ”

C1: “I’m going to step off the LEM now”

“That’s one small step for [a] man, one giant leap for mankind.”

The Code

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Sun, 13 May 2012 08:19:47 GMT

Prologue

** May 3, 2012**

“We have target in sight”

“Keep track of him. Don’t lose him at any cost! We need the bastard!”

They knew. RAW knew. He had not been able to lose the tail. He knew he did not have much time. The file had been passed on, today he had the pass key to it all; all known aliases, safe houses, agents, bases, cover-ups, all the tiny details of RAW’s nearly 45 year history.

He was panting as he reached his place; quickly he turned on his laptop. He had the host program ready; all he needed was to type in the code.

“We’ve lost sight of him. I repeat we’ve lost sight of him”

“Get me some eyes in there damn it! Sierra1,2 anything?”

“Nothing here!”

Kumar had to take a hard decision here.

“Get in there. Now! Secure the area. Hold him! I need him alive.”

It was late. He was spewing foam from his mouth by the time they got to him. The code had been forwarded. Not to the desired recipient though, that would not have been possible. He had counted on his agency to track it down though and that’s why he had typed in the kid’s email id.

Location: Unknown

I opened my eyes, I had a feeling they were shut for a momentary period which, was quite a satisfactory explanation given the fact, I was standing amidst a brewing storm.

The place seemed empty; it had a ghost-town like vibe about it. The air velocity was constantly picking up; the weather was constantly worsening. And then, it started raining. I started running for cover.

An empty coffee shop became my refuge. I now had a little time to think and well, I realized I live in the NCR region and such a thunderstorm, in these parts, around these times; well, presented a highly unlikely scenario. And as realization hit me, so did the lightening!

I woke up!

Frightened!

I was strapped unto, a bed of some sort; bare, the cold touch of metal brought down some shivers.

“Oh! You’re back! Welcome!” a deep husky voice sounded in the dark room.

Immediately after, a bulb shone right above me, drawing a scream from my side! It took a while for my eyes to adjust to the bright light. I opened them again. A man stood right over me, loosened tie, collars rolled up; I couldn’t quite make out his face. He was looking down upon me.

“So, ready to pass the codes!?”

“What? What codes!? Who the hell are you?? Where am I?”

“You forgot? Here, it’s me who asks the questions!”

Saying so, he went into the dark and was back with something, a box.

“So, the codes!”

“Look! You are mistaken! I…..”

I couldn’t quite complete my sentence; he had rotated the dial; I was being fed electricity!

May 3rd, 2012

** Delhi Technological University, New Delhi**

“Avengers dekhne chalein?” I asked Saurabh.

He darted back, “Dude! Less than a week to go for exams!!”

“There’s a 12:30 show in G3S! C’mon mate!” I flashed my Blackberry! He immediately grabbed it! I could see it was working!

“Anyways, we’re free for the day! C’mon mate!”

“Alright! Text the rest of the gang!” he said toying with my phone!

“No need! BBM hai na!”

He smiled sheepishly, “Not now! I’m checking my account!”

Minutes later, we were all in my friend’s i10, on the way to the theatre.

The BB in my pocket vibrated, I took it out; there was a mail.

“Hey man! Do we have something like an invisible email id?”

“What? You high or something?”

“Check this!”

I forwarded my cell. Saurabh opened the mail.

“Man this is weird…. Crap! Your phone man! It’s dead!”

“What!?”

I looked at it. Fumes were rising off it!

I left, soon after. I needed to get to a repair centre.

Location: Unknown

I had passed out again! As I came back to my senses, I had a better chance to grasp the surroundings.

It was a dark room, mostly; only a single bulb shone in the room. Right underneath was the bed. To the right were a bunch of stairs, which in all probability led outside. Besides the bed, there was a table on which rest a bunch of tools; most of which had already been tried on me. They had thrown me into one of the few cages to the south of the whole setup, right underneath the steps.

I had to get out, had to warn Saurabh, the police perhaps. Something big was going down.

He was back. The torture resumed. His questions, my answers! None of it mattered anymore! I felt he was enjoying the torture. A few days went down in the same routine.

I remembered now, I couldn’t quite make it to the repair centre; I was picked on the way. Since then, I was being held captive, constantly being pestered for that one thing! That feeling, that feeling of not being sure whether you’re gonna wake up next morning; I’d had enough of it; and so, and so I killed.

His cell was kept on the table, I made sure I grabbed it. I made it past the goons guarding the front entrance. I dialed Saurabh’s number.

“Hello!”

“Hey man! It’s Arunabh. I’m in trouble”

“What? Where are you man?”

“I don’t know!!”

“Any landmarks? Anything?”

I realized, that bastard had a smart phone “Wait! I’ll call back”

The phone’s GPS told me I was in Karnal. I called him back.

“Karnal!”

“I’m coming.”

** May 12, 2012**

** Delhi Technological University, New Delhi**

“And then, I called you….”

“You didn’t tell the cops!?”

“No! I thought first I should talk to you”

“Let’s go to the cops! Right now!”

“Not that! The day my cell broke did you see anything?”

“Yeah! I told you! ‘C4N2219’ And then it went all crazy!”

“OK! You be safe! I’m going to the cops!”

“Well, I’m coming.”

“No! You’re not! They don’t know about you yet! It’d be better if we kept it that way! Car keys!”

“No man! This is some serious shit! I’m coming!”

“Keys!!”

He had to give in, seeing I was not bulging.

It was not long before I reached the police station. I was at the entrance, when some men blocked my path.

“Come with us!”

They were plain-clothed men, quite different from the ones I’d been with since the last week; yet I wasn’t quite in the mood.

“I’m sorry; I’d have to say no to …..”

All I felt was a pinch.

My head hurt a bit, I was feeling dizzy. I was sitting on a chair. It seemed as if I was in some friggin’ cop show! A large glass pane was staring at me; someone entered from the door on the adjacent wall.

“I’m sorry we had to move you in this fashion. All the inconvenience is genuinely regretted!”

“What do you want me to say to that!? Huh?”

“Well, I expected a similar reply”

He threw some photographs on the table.

“Do you recognize any of them?”

“Who is asking?”

“Oh! Introductions are due. I’m Kumar, RAW”

He flashed a badge, with RAW inscribed on it. Since I had no prior interactions with these gentlemen, I didn’t quite question the gentility.

“I understand you were held captive for the past week or so. And we believe these men were responsible. So, can you identify anyone?”

“This one! He was the one who picked me in the first place. Rest I don’t know.”

“All right then! Did you tell them anything?”

“Like….”

“The code you received in your mail. It was a one-time self destruct mail; it contained a code which is of great national consequence! We’re quite positive that it was opened, that’s how they got to you in the first place”

“Yes, I opened it.”

“So, the code!?”

“Where am I?”

“You are in a secure location! You are safe, don’t worry! Now, the code!”

“Look! I’m not exactly sure as to you are what you claim to be….”

Just at that moment another official barged in!

“Look kid! We don’t have time for this! It’s a crazy situation and we need to deal with it. Quick!”

“I’m not saying anything! I want to go home damn it!”

“What? You know how much danger you are in? How many agencies are after that code!?”

“No! But I’m not giving you any codes here!”

He looked away. He went out the same way he came in, the other official in tow. A while later he was back.

“Fine! You’re going home. Kumar will accompany you there. You give the code to him. Two teams will be deployed around your house. You are advised not to get out, till we have the situation under control”

** A few hours later**

I was home, finally. Mum & Dad were out.

“The Code!?”

“It’s ‘C4N2219’!”

“’C4N2219’ All right! Don’t get out! We’d inform you when it’s all over.”

Kumar left.

I powered up my laptop. There must be a copy of that mail in it.

Epilogue

It was something he had done with my mail last year after he’d accidentally deleted all the read ones. Now, whenever he received a mail, a copy of it was automatically saved in the auxiliary storage on the server. He opened his mailbox. The one on top was the one he wanted to see. He clicked on it.

A pop-up opened up on the screen. The screen turned black. In the centre flashed the code ‘C4N2291’; momentarily after, he saw an overheating message pop-up, his laptop was down.

His telephone started ringing. He went up to it. The window next to it was open, he closed it. He picked up the phone.

“Hey! It’s Kumar! It’s over!”

“What? So soon! I mean how….”

He heard the glass breaking. Nothing thereafter. A bullet had pierced his skull.

Kumar heard the sound too; he also heard the thud of Arunabh’s body falling. He spoke slowly in the microphone, “Get in there! Take care of the body, surprise me!”

** No loose ends.**

“Oh man! What an ending!!!”

My roommate started jumping. I was puzzled.

“What??”

“Dude! You should have a dekko at this dude’s blog! He’s amazing!”

My roommate was flashing his newly bought GlaxyS.

“It’d be better if you concentrated on the EMFT exam that is tomorrow!”

He had been like this for quite some time now. Whenever there was no hope left he turned this way; movies, songs, docs, and what not!

“Ho jayega yaar!” he said, and returned back to his internet; while I returned to my miseries!

This post is published for Indiblogger’s ‘Internet is Fun’ sponsered by** Vodafone**

Inverse!

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Fri, 27 Apr 2012 07:24:46 GMT

He was scared, wary, of his mother; who if disturbed in her sleep would definitely give him a good whack!

Currently, he tried obstructing the light originating from the candle with his hands.

He tried to put off the candle again.

_______

“Mom!”, she screamed.

Jennifer came rushing, “What!?”

“I swear I’d just lit the candle!”

“So?”

“It’s put off again!”

_______

Us Against the World!

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Thu, 26 Apr 2012 14:13:55 GMT

As the world stood crumbling,

Ashes, fire, smoke, dust!

I looked at her,

the face; damp, beneath all that soot!

This is the end,

of the dreams, the hopes, the world!

It ’s us against the world,

It ’s us against the forces!

The ground shook in it ’s stillness,

The skies crackled, stormed, shouted!

It was her hand in my hand,

for the strength!

It was her face, amidst chaos,

for the calm!

This is the end,

of the dreams, the hopes, the world!

It ’s us against the world,

It ’s us against the forces!

A sharp explosion, a mushroom of dust;

Fires; touching the skies, lighting the night!

She turned to me, in hope!

Her eyes damp, red!

I pulled her close to me,

She shut her eyes.

For a moment in violence,

I found serene!

This is the end,

of the dreams, the hopes, the world!

It ’s us against the world,

It ’s us against the forces!

“ It’ll be allright!”, I lied!

She tilted a bit, kissed my lips!

Just at that moment,

the sky lit again!

In a flash, it all came crashing down,

the hopes, the dreams, the world alike!

It ’s us against the world,

It ’s us against the forces!

That Face Among the Faces!

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Sun, 25 Mar 2012 13:22:29 GMT

I looked up, at the blue sky

Took a moment, to let the aura fill in

Then moved in, through the gates, faces, barricades;

It all smelled nice, it all felt bright.

A whole myriad of faces, filled with laughter,

Hidden under paints,

It all seemed shallow, so pathetic!!

Someone, prominent, adorned the podium,

He spoke with great passion, great charisma!

All were awed, oh so struck!

They gaped at him, feeling so prudent!

It all seemed shallow, so pathetic!!

But then, it happened,

Pure magic! Pure coincidence!!

Struggling through masses, for a better vantage;

Instead I found someone else!

Under the shades of a majestic one,

With crossed legs, specs on head,

She sat jotting down little thoughts!

I stared, and stared, and stared, and stared;

Oblivious to the people, the speaker, the nature alike!

That strand of hair, which irritated her eye,

Those dark eyes, that flicker of nose;

That pen cap, badly bit!

She sat there, oh, so lost!!

Yet in her, I found familiarity!!

‘I’ve seen you somewhere!’, I repeated in mind;

Quickly dismantling the lameness in it all!

I thought again, putting a strain!

I’ve seen her, yes! In the train!

I remembered now! Imprinted in my head,

Pretty vivid! Her name, and age!

The details had brought some smile back then!

She had sat next to me,

The specs had been on the eyes back then,

The copy of ‘Brave New World’ had her notice!

I had wanted to say, ‘Hey! Hi! Hello!’

But had content with a blank face instead!

As I stood there, ruminating the past,

She came up to me with quite some haste!

‘Hey! I’ve seen you somewhere!’, she said;

‘Oh! Yes! Hey! In the train’, I said!

‘Anya!’, she said, drawing out her hand;

‘Sajal‘, I said, reaching for the same!!

Scared I Was!!

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Sun, 18 Mar 2012 17:04:17 GMT

Scared I was,
that day my bicycle lost it’s supports;
afraid, excited, free.

I remember that I threw as you let go of the bike,
and the one after that,
when I caught you smiling!
Scared, for sure I was; but then, it changed!

Scared I was,
that day in third grade;
after all, failure was new to me.

I remember scrambling through the faces,
through the disappointment,
only to get sucked in the vortex some more;
till you put your hand on me.
I remember that smile, that ‘all right, champ!’
Scared, for sure I was; but then, it changed!

Scared I was,
that day she left,
scared, angry, sad, crying!
And I remember you,
still, strong, steady in the storm,
waiting, as the savages marched on!
Scared, for sure I was; but then, it changed!

Scared I was,
that day in the infirmary.
I was going to be fine, I knew;
it was you, for whom I was worried!
Scared, for sure I’ve been often;
but then, things have changed, I have changed!

The Longing

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Fri, 17 Feb 2012 18:59:39 GMT

“If we are to be together, we’ll surely be…”

November 22nd, 2025

00:30 am

New Delhi

I looked at my watch again, it struck half-way past twelve.

“Twelve-thirty .. Hmm…”

It was any ways a bad time to travel, and more so for a woman, in this notorious city, famed for it’s high crime-rate against women...

“Must be thirty or so”, out of sheer habit, I concluded…

“Even after so many years… some habits die hard!!”

I got up, and strolled towards her. A chill went through my spine, “Damn! It’s cold!”

A puff of vapor left my lips as I opened my mouth, “May I sit here?”

She looked up, her eyes; she looked painstakingly similar to someone I knew, once held dear!!

“Hmm…”

She was on phone with somebody.

“Ma! Ami prothome sune niyache! Chinta karo na! Saurav amake pick kore nibe!!”

“Mothers!!”, I thought.

“Huh??”, she was looking at me.

I realised, I had actually spoken it out, “Oh! Nothing!!”

“What’s with me and Bengalis!!?!!” , this time I made sure, it was in my mind only.

“Ma..! I’m hanging up. I’ll talk to you later…”

I decided to start up a conversation, frankly, just for the sake of it.

And, like always, I blew it

“Hey! So, you a Bengali!!?” “(Crap!!)”

“Mmm…”, she tried to smile, “A.. Yes!!”

“Winter does something to my, machinery”, I tried to crack one, pointing at my head… “Shit! Shit! Shit! From bad, to worse! Great, keep it up, uncle!!”

I could see, she was trying real hard to come up with a response, but I, me, myself 😛 😛

________________________________________

July 3rd,2013

New Delhi

Her results were out. She had gotten into Xavier’s.

Couldn’t they have established it in Delhi? I mean C’mon, DU is here, IIT is here, then why not Xavier’s… 🙁

She was to go this Friday, I, it was hard to imagine being without her.

Imagine, actually doing so! Crap!

All this time, I had acted, ‘adult’; but not anymore!!

I could not pretend any more.

I called her up.

“Hey!”

“Hmm…!”

I could make out, the excitement in her voice.

“So, how’s the shopping going..?”

It felt as if I had just pushed the button which was to initiate the self-destruct of some dam. Well the dam did break!

“I picked up, two of my favorite bags today. Then went to Delhi Haat…”

I lost it somewhere. Frankly, the only reason I had not asked her to stop; was, as it was she who was speaking. She, her voice, her sweet, husky voice; I could almost endlessly keep listening to her, it didn’t matter what she said; I was just happy listening.

“Now, you say something. How was your day?”

“Usual. You say na. Kuch bhi, accha accha!!”

“What happened, you sound… You all right, na!!”

“Yeah! Am fine.. It’s just you won’t be here, na…”

“Listen! That doesn’t mean…”

I hung up. Removed the sim and broke it down to bits.

______________________________

July 4th, 2013

New Delhi

“Dad! I’m going to Dalhousie, with friends!!”

“Thoda aur jaldi bata deta!!”

“Please, abhi nahi..!”

I left.

November 22nd, 2025

00:40

New Delhi

“Ahh… It’s pretty late; maybe, I could drop you somewhere…”

She picked up her purse, opened the zip, her hand went in…

Pepper spray!!?! 😛 😛

“You haven’t changed a bit”, she said, taking out a piece of paper from her bag.

A bell rung somewhere in my skull, “A highly unlikely scenario, yet quite possible”

“Hey!! I can see, the day-dreaming part is still there”, she was looking, rather staring at me, with that piece of paper thrusted towards me.

I need some air!!

“Anya, told me, you refused to keep it..!”

“Shit!! You’ve got to be crapping me!!!”, I was out of words….

“Aaaa….”

“Keep this”, she dumped it in my chest pocket and got up.

I followed suite, “Wait!! This can’t be happening”

“Well, it is!”

“Hey wait!!”, I grabbed her hand. She stared back, her eyes, like always, said everything; I had lost the right, and perhaps, deservedly, so!

She slowed down her pace, I caught up.

Silence

“So, how’ve you been?”

“Good! You?”

Getting formal, are we?!!

“Fine!! Waise, yahaan kaise? I’d have imagined, you’d be in Mumbai”

“Been here for a while”

Silence

“So late into the night, kahaan ja ri ho? C’mon I’ll drop you..”

“You did your part long back. Don’t worry, Saurav is coming to pick me up”

Something, somewhere, inside me, was smashed.

“So you guys, are together?”

She just gave a wry smile. I managed my answer.

“I…. How to say this… I’m really sorry about….”

She cut me short. “It’s been a decade. There’s no point chasing ghosts”

A horn sounded from behind me, a black accord, stopped by. It’s window rolled down. She got in.

She left…..

___________________________

July 8th, 2013

New Delhi

“Anya had come… twice or thrice, said it was something important. Maybe you should call her….”

“Hmm… Dekhta hu!”

“She left something for you”

“Who?”

“You know what, you’re an a****le”

I frankly didn’t care anymore.

She took out a piece of paper from her bag.

“What’s this?”

“Khud hi dekh lo..”

“I don’t want this!!”

“Do suggest, as to, what shall I do with it?”

“Return it to the one who gave you this!”

I was acting weirdly rude, and well, quite frankly, it was totally unwarranted..

“I’m sorry! Really! Just that, this ain’t a good time..”

“I… Look whatever is wrong, you two should sort it out.. It’s hard to see you guys like this…”

I couldn’t bear any more of her, in spite of her being right.

I left, again.

___________________________________

October 24th, 2013

Mumbai

She seemed happy. I couldn’t muster up enough courage.

What will I do?

What will I say?

What excuse will I give?

Those lines had propelled me till now, but now I was developing cold feet.

Still I had to talk to her, after all Delhi to Bombay is a costly affair…! 😉 🙂

“Hey!!”

The expression on her face turned grave.

“It’s me! I’m alive!”, I wanted to say, but well that again would have been stupid. I waited a while for her to say something, anything; but nothing came out. She started moving.

“I’m….”

“Ashna….”, a voice called out from behind me…

“Who the….”

She stopped.

“Hey!!”, she said.

“Hey!!”, he said.

“Saurav, this is Atharva!”

Out of sheer habit, I stretched out my hand.

“Hey!”, he said.

“F*ck You!!”, I thought; “Hello”, I said.

He shifted his attention to her, “We’re late, we should be off!!”

I was feeling like a f*cking statue.

“Will catch up with you later mate…”

They left.

I stood grounded.

____________________

November 22nd, 2025

00:52

New Delhi

I opened the letter again. All I could focus on were the last two lines.

“If we are to be together, we’ll surely be. But not now, Not yet.”

“I, I waited for you dear; I waited. God knows, how much I’d longed for this day… But it seems…”

A tear came off his eye and dropped into the night.

“It’s time to leave now”

I left… for the last time possible….

_____________________________________

November 22nd, 2025

00:55

New Delhi

“How many times have I told you not to travel so late… This city is not safe, and you know it, better than me”

“I know! I know! Keep your eyes on the road…”

“Who was that man with you?”

“Atharva…”

“You.. You found him? After all these years… I had told you, na… one day…”

“He.. I… We both couldn’t…”

“No.. No.. No.. Don’t tell me, you didn’t…”

“He thought I had married you…”

“What? Why didn’t you…? You both are just…”, he took a sharp U.

“What are you doing?”

“There has been enough of this…. No more of this inflated ego!”

They were late, I had already left!

Just the Two of Us..!!

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 17:51:19 GMT

“Need something to write on. Suggestions..”

“What do you wish to write on??”

“Anything you wish for, apart from perhaps ‘Russian revolution’ “

“Some love story, Te Amo types “

“Hmmm…. Toh, meko kisi ki love story toh sunao…”

“Lemme get over with the comparative government class”

“And, the potential dropped to zero, by the time you reached the 20th house”, the professor chuckled; another pathetic attempt at cracking a joke.

The class tried to laugh. Couldn’t even manage a crackle!

My cell beeped.

“Hey! Class over?”

“Yupp”

A while later, ‘The Who’ started playing their ‘Baba O’ Riley’; a clear indication that somebody was calling me.

She appeared, wearing that beautiful smile of hers in that pink attire.

“Hey!!”, I exclaimed.

“Hmm…”, was her reply.

“Wrapped up your day??”

“Yeah! Got the library card and ID updated…”

“Hmmm….”

Silence

“So, you came up with a story to tell??”

Silence again…

“There??”, I enquired.

“Hmm…”, she replied in her sweet husky voice; my sour day seemed to have just been made; “I’ve got a story to tell….”

"This one’s about a sweet gal and a MAD guy…"

“ Their’s was a formal introduction; work, being the only connection. The guy, had immediately fell for her smile. Numbers were exchanged, then a few SMSes and FB chats later, they grew from colleagues, to perhaps, friends. Months passed, the World Cup forged them even strongly together . Their lives inter-dwindled into each-other’s. The guy fell for her, correction, falling isn’t the correct word; rather, he rose, rose from the pettiness of everything. Love makes you see, beauty even in the smoke running out of exhausts!!

The only fear, the guy ever had was that he’d lose her; perhaps the only reason, he kept from her.

“What’s harder to deal with; the fear of losing something beautiful, or, the regret of having not done something?”

The gal chose the latter; “You’d always be afraid of losing one thing or the other”, she reasoned.

The guy got his answer, and even before, his brain could give it another re-go, his heart had already filled those words in his mouth.

Awkward, the proposal was as he took pride in being a writer. The fumbling words did not exactly help the cause either.

“If we’re to be together, we’ll surely be! But….”

The guy didn’t require an answer, as his was not a question; it was an affirmative sentence.

The colleges resumed, they got busy in their respective fields. Things were normal, they talked, shared, laughed together!!!

It was during the break period that she received an SMS.

“Need something to write on. Suggestions..”

“What do you wish to write on??”

“Anything you wish for, apart from perhaps ‘Russian revolution’ “

“Some love story, Te Amo types “

“Hmmm…. Toh, meko kisi ki love story toh sunao…”

“Lemme get over with the comparative government class”

She then called him up, and told him a story.

The time had come.

“I love you”, she said. “

“Toh, kaisi lagi story Mr. writer??”

“Sounds familiar….”

“Surely should sound familiar, abe sale uth ja ab toh, the torture is over.. ”

I could make out my friend’s broad smile and his hand movements…

“Aj Friday hai… Yayy Yayy…!”, he said.

“Aww…! Man!”

Don’t cry

Don’t raise your eye

It’s only teenage wasteland

It was ‘The Who’, playing their ‘Baba O’ Riley’; a clear indication that somebody was calling me.

She appeared, wearing that beautiful smile of hers in that pink attire.

“Hey!!”, I exclaimed.

“Hmm…”, was her reply……

🙂 🙂

_The story is also published at The Indian Fusion. Find it _here

Stranded Isle

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 16:28:55 GMT

The sea has a story to tell,
Even in all it’s calmness…
The palaces that stood, oh, so firm once,
Even they, find themselves in ruins…
The sea has a feeble memory,
Impressions fading, in remembrance…
A case of constant change,
It’s face, a never-finished masterpiece!

In all her opulence, she stands there
Facing the sea, staring at the horizon,
Embroiled in a typhoon, she finds herself;
Arms inter-dwindled, eyes moist…
Another gust, a little fury,
The strands of her hair, end up adorning her face

Another string of waves, touch her feet,
Her corpse won’t move, nor her soul…
Those footprints left behind, Utter a cry beneath them;
Gliding towards them, holding those in hands,
Slips through her the acute pain!!
She stands dry, washed in the once, sanded palace…

A new dawn!
A new beginning!
A great new bout!!

She looks up, a feeble smile now adorns her lips…!

Here I Stand

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Sun, 12 Feb 2012 15:05:50 GMT

Here I stand,

Among the ashes, the ruins, the fire;

Among fallen heroes, sunk egos, butchered heads!!

The Phoenix must rise!

The mortals must bow..!

War begets war, but not the peace of mind!

The path has been long, tiring, painful..

Of which what remains is nostalgia.

Those who once had souls in them,

War and not I, drew them out; turning them to corpses!

This was not my pick, still I abhor it!

You! The feeble, mere, You, is what is left of the vast;

I, the burning, crimson, Me, is what turned of the void!!

I for one, did not want this!

You, for sure, did not plan for this!!

Fate! Cruel, brute, bloody fate!!

Look of what is left, of your world, O Mighty Man!!

Look for the reaper, run from the beast in me!!

But, you won’t run; Ego or valor, can’t make out really..

Shining blades, heavy armors, flexed muscles…

The war cries filled the air soon,

Metal clashing against metal,

Metal tearing into flesh, blood spilling, feeding the ground!!

You tried to fight, I must confess; but try is what it ever was!

It ended as was meant to, in a flash, the blade did it’s part,

As did You!

War begets war, but not the peace of mind!

I for one, did not want this!

Was It Blood or Water?

sajal@sajalchoudhary.net (Sajal Choudhary) — Sun, 12 Feb 2012 07:32:16 GMT

“Mmm…”

“Mmmmm…”

The touch of something rough, slipping over my neck; distinct.

Hissss……

The sound of that rough touch, approaching my ear; distinct.

“Ahhh…. Shit….”

The reaction, was, well clockwork; I shook off the creature, my eyes were shut, too numb to respond. I felt the chill of the underlying stone, piercing my spine.

Was I dreaming? I felt my skin, bare flesh, not a shred of cloth! The warmth, distinct.

I tried to grasp, nothing but empty spaces met me, I had no other option.

I dared to open my eyes.

I could feel the lashes separating, the pupils dilated; nothing. I was stuck. It was pitch-dark. My breath scared me.

I struggled up, my head hit the ceiling; I fell down, down onto the floor, in a tub of water.

Splash!

Light!

I gasped for fresh air.

Somebody grabbed my tresses, and pulled me back.

I could hear whispers. The pitch increased, quickly; I recognised a few voices, voices I had been hearing for the past few weeks. The language was an issue, but I reckoned the seriousness of the matter, being conveyed. I was at the centre of it all.

I tried to gain control, to get a hold of the surroundings. A light shone over my head, another one right in front of my eyes; I was feeling dizzy. I could hear the beeps. Apart from the two light sources, there was one small window on the right corner, bolted; a beam of light shone in and fell on the automatic positioned nicely in the hands of the man holding guard. He was not alone.

The light in front of me, was now turned off, I had my seconds of respite. The room was filled with low indistinct murmurs; the man who had been speaking calmly, turned into a beast now. The echoes filled the room. The last thing, I remembered was metal to my skull, I was falling.

“Aaaaaaaaaaa…………”

The height seemed never-ending, I was falling through empty space, I could hear voices; nothing was clear.

Splash!

I fell in the tub of water, my head hit the fiberglass. I was feeling dizzy. The water was warm. I got out. Stones pierced my flesh. I had to walk. I started in a direction. I was blind. I couldn’t touch, couldn’t hear, couldn’t feel!! Yet, I kept walking.

The mind, is a powerful tool; it can imagine in broad daylight. It is working when you’re sleeping, working when you’re up, working when you’re partying; working when you’re peeing.. It never rests!!

You give it a white frame to draw on, it’ll draw those endless mazes, beautiful landscapes, wonderful sculptures, great designs, structural marvels and what not!! You give it a dark frame, it’ll bring out your biggest horrors; unimaginable, pure; you’re unfathomable secrets, everything will be out in the open, the irony being, even you won’t be able to see them, yet you will!

I was scared. I did not deserve this.

“Let me out!!!”

My voice left my throat, touched my lips, but couldn’t even reach my ears! I started running, my feet were bleeding; hell! I didn’t care! And then I hit something, someone, I don’t know! It was furry, warm; and then I fell!

I was falling again, through heights, empty spaces, oblivion!

Splash!

Light!

It was open! Sun light hit me, my eyes hurt! It were the same people. I could make out the camera in his hands. Again, language was an issue, but this time, their faces looked bright; or was it the sunlight?

The same procedure, I tried to get a hold of my surroundings, the AKs and Kalashinovs, were still very much prevalent. The lead was taping a message. I looked around. I saw someone adjacent to me, his head was covered with a rag. Children, men were all watching.

“Abdul!”

A small kid was the centre of attraction now. The old man said something in his ears.

The lead kicked the man down, he lay on the barren ground! The kid went up, the lead and the old man in tow. The lead passed the blade to the kid. The kid looked up, grabbed the man’s hair, pulled his head up. The shiny blade touched his neck now.

“Noooo…..”

His screams led to a gargle, as the blade swiftly tore through the ligaments and then through his vocal cords; blood, red, dark, spit in the air, onto the ground. Blood is the best of fertilizers they say, but I wonder, if it’ll be of any help to this land; desolate, barren!

I was numb, scared too afraid to scream; hell! Too scared to respond.

Metal, hard, cold; the touch of it on my head, sent a chill down my spine. I was not defiant, I had surrendered to my fate.

I did not hear the bang; the noise produced when the trigger is pulled, gun powder burns, and the bullet is accelerated through the barrel with it’s mark in sight; I felt metal piercing the back of my mantle, passing through my brain, creating another crack as it left my holy mantle for the journey ahead!

They say, your whole life flashes in front of your eyes, when you’re close to being dead. They haven’t been able to explain it till date, neither would I be able to; but it didn’t happen with me, or maybe it did.

I saw her, my love, my wife; that rain, the ring, the kiss. This was my life, all gone in a moment.

I was falling, falling through heights, it seemed years had passed and I was still falling, at last I hit the bottom.

Splash!

I fell in a tub of water; wait, no, it never was water! It was blood!