How am I being remembered?

The wise man says, Identity is built within the family and nurtured by friends. You groom yourself to be someone, to be identified as an individual and remembered by most. Like most people, my parents gave me an identity and my friends, from the distant past, nurtured them. All is perfect until after many years and a lot of distance between those friends, I kind of don’t know how they remember me as. Did I ever have an identity? When they think of me, how do they recollect me as a person? Guess I would never know!!!!

He was my class mate from school and was remembered to be highly energetic and smart. He was a hit with the fairer sex and on most days was seen mingling with them, more often than not. Dare I say that he is no more like that! As we moved on to college, his love for music and dancing brought him, more and more company and friends, but he never gave up on the older ones. I always remember him for his patience and light heartedness. He is truly a great friend and in the spirit of F1, I would never mind taking P2, if he was P1. A Hugh Hefner of the 21st century, he is the real Iceman for me...

My one time neighbour and ‘Dog-Walking buddy’ was the coolest of all. He was nicknamed Viper, keeping his crazy, but controlled, driving skills in mind and if you ever wanted to experience NFS for real, you better strap up your seat belts in his company and breeze through the winding sub-urban roads. His decisions, thinking and actions were truly a few years ahead of time. I always secretly admired his wisely words and matured decisions. He has been an inspiration for all and has always been there for all, let it be family or friends. He is the closest thing to the wise man for me...

His dressing was refined and he spoke only when needed, like a true gentleman. I never understood him completely, I guess most of us never did, but whatever we could understand of him, he was simply amazing. He always had an air of mystery surrounding him which would keep all thinking. He always sported a smile on his face. A man of few words but limitless style. The way he would hold the glass or get his suit stitched to fit or hold the cigarette, it was always noticed and tried out. He is no less than the James Bond of the circle and truly reflects the DON in his style...

Many still believe he is not grown by the years and his actions justify the child in him. The joker, peacemaker, lover-boy or just the kid-from-the-block who can keep us all in splits, at any time of the day or night. His sense of humour did get irritating on most days but to think about it now, he brought us all on neutral ground. He was never taken seriously and always had an opinion, which may or may not fit the situation. In the end of the day, eyes wide open starring at the ceiling; I wish I could be like him for one day and understand what would make him so jovial, always...

Who am I in the scheme of things!!! I would never know. Guess I never had an identity to fit in the group. Guess I am never remembered, and that’s why we are no more together...

NOTE: See what a free mind can do, it takes you to the deepest & darkest corners of your human self and makes you feel so lonely. Try it, it helps realising you have much more than you actually need. We have memories that keep us alive and ticking every day.

What did you think of today???

Lights, Colours & Nostalgia...

Yup, the lights and colours are back to remind us of all the happy days from the past and to add some more colour to our present and future

5.30AM, my mother woke me up from deep sleep on a cold November Ferozpur morning. Her agenda, I should burst the loudest cracker "The Lakshmi bomb" and remind the entire colony that it’s a Diwali morning and it’s time for the best day of our lives. I was 13 and I was feeling too old to get out of bed and do all this. I felt too old to be doing these things but my mother’s enthusiasm was over my emotions. I would never know if she did it for herself or she was excited for my brother and I on this occasion. I burst the bomb, she smiled and the day of joy for a family, as I remember it, had just begun.

2 years later, it was early noon and my brother and I were experimenting with “Atom Bomb”, The green coloured jute thread wrapped bomb that usually caused a lot of discomfort to the old , the dogs and the already noisy babies of the area. Some of you might remember the Amul Cheese tins that were in demand during the early nineties. We found a few empty ones, placed an “Atom Bomb”, inverted the empty tin over the bomb and light the wick... BOOOMMMM!!!!!.... Where did the damn can go? A few seconds later something fell close to us, it was the tin without the bottom. The bottom must have been blown away to pieces, but we were wrong. After a good 2-3 minutes, a ring fell close by. It was the bottom of the tin and it must have flown very high into the sky to come down this late. We both smiles and a day of experiments, as brothers, had just begun.

Few years later during junior college days, my friends and I collected a selected few crackers like spiralling rockets, loud rockets, coloured rockets, whistling rockets, bomb rockets and more rockets. We kept the bottles inclined on the road and shot the rockets parallel to the road. This was dangerous but I must confess somewhere down under, we were enjoying this in an evil way. The rockets hit a few four wheelers and two wheelers, so we decided to shoot the rockets with a better angle, this time keeping a small stone under the bottleneck. The rockets were more evil than our intentions and landed in the bathroom of the girl’s house who hated our guts. Unfortunately, it was her father who was in the loo and we had to do the only thing that commonly came to our minds.... Run!!!! The days of Running had just begun

Diwali during engineering college was less noisy but equally fun. Myself and Vicky would be the only few students who would not go home to celebrate Diwali. Instead, on one occasion, we had a couple of drinks, picked a friend’s RX100 and hit the road towards the forest searching for a female ghost draped in a white sari carrying a candle (imagine what alcohol can do!!!). We waited till late night, in vain and the stupid babe never turned up. We started our bikes for back home, practised some wheelies and landed in the Sugarcane fields once the front wheel was high up. Picked up self, the bike and searched for the rider who was fisting the road for not being able to complete the wheelie for a longer duration. Somehow reached the hostel room and got the bike repaired the next morning along with a few glasses of lime juice to cut the hangover from the previous evening. The days of drinking on Diwali, with friends, had just begun.

Diwali 2 years back, some miniature lanterns with small candles inside, colourful rangoli’s, a lot of diya’s collected by mother from all the years and the four of us together. Sweets were prepared at home, new clothes were customary for all four and the entire house was lit well beyond our imagination. My mother lit a few sparklers, dad was trying his hand at a few bombs and brother was sending rockets way up, while I was capturing memories for all. We finished our small celebration in 15 minutes, ate sweets and vada’s, feasted on some lovely dinner made by mom and hit the sack. While in bed, I looked up and thought, this was to be the last Diwali as a family, as this family!!! The days of expanding my family, losing some and gaining others, with love lost and found, had just begun.

These are my memories of the life that revolved around Diwali... all of you have one, revisit them, since Diwali is a season of Lights, colours & nostalgia....

Happy Diwali to all!!!!