Of Magic, December and Me

A cold December evening. The sun walked out pretty fast, just like her.

Then, Walt Whitman walked in, so did the moon and sonnets.

A perfect setting to get lost and never come back. Never. Because once the words you want are served at your table and you find it better than people, you start enjoying your company.

The wind does its job of keeping your sailing thoughts on the loneliest streets of Manhattan, the darkest hours of Quebec or the mind-numbing coldness of Alaska. It drifts you away from human territory. The wind knows what is good for you.

One think-alike human is the overdraft limit that can withstand the winds. It is not like the way it is explained in books or movies, or it is not so metaphorical too. It is awkward, imperfect and unexplainable.

If it is unexplainable, how do writers weave out magic on paper?

Did you read that word aloud?

It is. You still feel some works to be extremely closer to truth, right? I did too. Until, that moment I realised, it takes three lines or a maximum of three pages for a character to do a task impossible for a person reading it in real life. Like, travelling nautical miles with the albatross or running into the terrace of a hostel with curfew and a strict warden. It is easy for them.

Impossibilities cause pain. If this was a page of my book, the book that is picked only by the people who need it.
I would have re-written it this way, but yeah! You read the truth in the beginning. I’m speaking truth in my fictions. I’m a paradox.

“A cold December evening. The sun walked out pretty fast, just like her.

She thought that I could never be a father like the one she has had(She was right!). I asked her to decide. I gave her total freedom. But she was furious and felt I was not helping her and I acted like some sick bastard, three blocks away, who is no one to her.

I caught her while she was at the gate trying to look back at me, she was waiting to see if I would call her back. I hugged her, looked into the eyes that reflected our Rafter and then me. I pushed the lock of hair that hid the bruise on her forehead, kissed it. Then, she decided.

Then, Walt Whitman walked in, so did the moon and sonnets.”

-just barath©

Write side of the heart

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Episode 5

Hey Barath!

(Ok!) Dear Barath!
Shucks! Man. I think this is not my thing.  I think you asked me to write a letter to you on purpose! But let me try. This is the first thing you ever asked me. So I’m trying to write something that looks like a letter.

You and your literature things are starting to become interesting for me. All because of you. You talk about it and make me feel like, it’s a mandatory part of my survival. You add those fancy words at the right places and make something out of it, that gets me in this trance, while I am already struck by your handsomeness(Someone’s smiling a lot, now).

This being evident as you are reading, when are you going to get me our first book?

Yes! OUR freaking first book!! I am taking so much control over us. I know all that. That’s because, I miss “us” sometimes and this is the only way I can hold someone’s hand and not feel any pain over the juxtaposed, interlocked fingers(God! Me and my Stupid word choices!)

Writers take a walk by Heartbreak lane on a daily-basis. I know you are new to the neighbourhood, so take your time, learn and get over to me as soon as possible.

I think I am starting to love letters. It gives me this 60s English Womenfolk feel. The Flower-Basket Cycles, Hats, Blue and White checked Shirts. I know you would have picturized me in the above scenarios I listed. Don’t you ever start your plan. I will have to use the Kitchen-Knife just like those 60s movies.

Now coming back to what I really wanted to say.
One fact about humans on earth, irrespective of what songs they hear, or what kinda creatures they live with, humans cheat on themselves for the sake of others, there’s this extent for doing that. You never crossed that, even for me.. that was the thing that amazed me first. You do what you want! I do what I want! And we do what we want(Except when it comes to movies! Because you kinda take the decision always).
We are good! better at times?!

So, write back to me, when the freaking butterfly effect you go mad about lets you!

Write slow and steady, because your handwriting shouldn’t have come past the four line notebooks of kindergarten. I am clueless about how it did!

We are already something. I don’t want an approval by words. Words are bitches.

Say ‘Yes’ with a kiss,
Or,
‘Yes’ with two kisses.

Yours,
You know my name!

P.s.- Its time start loving her. So, Duffer’s diary is closed and kept safely inbetween Vairamuthu and Tolstoy in my book rack.

Bye,
just barath a.k.a Duffer©

Jack’s Sparrows

Jack's Sparrows

Episode 4

Forgiving is hard, forgetting harder.

I’m on the verge of forgiving one person in my life. That night made it kinda easier. We decided to have a drink. My first and her 11th(I mean she drinks rarely! I don’t know the number of times she drank).

STATUTORY WARNING: Drinking is injurious to health, so is talking, speaking, answering, discussing and everything.

6’o clock on that fine evening. We both decided to sleep over at our friend’s places after it. Yes! We are grown-ups and we can’t explain it to our homes. We are cheating on ourselves by cheating our parents. We know!

Judge us through all the ways you want for just the one reason that she asked me to drink. But if it reaches her ears, that is when your trouble starts.

It’s Mr.Jack Daniel’s turn to speak up. One gulp, quarter cup. Felt like someone set my oesophagus on fire. Drinkers all over the world! Why do you guys want to burn your food pipe!

“Don’t make me call an ambulance now!” she looked at me.

“It’s! It’s nothing” I tried to be casual.

“Why do you look like you’re going to kill yourselves then?” she laughed.

I heard that. But a headache started. I was trying to balance it out. Man! I was indeed doing it like a pro! One tip and I’m skipping on to what happened after the 5th round. If you are getting high when you don’t want to, just try to think something really different from anything running on your mind. It helped!

“I love you, Barath” she said.

“Eh!” that came out of nowhere.

“It won’t be romantic when I tell that again” she dragged.

“You know what! I am steadier than you!” I told a little loud.

“OK! Your first lesson of Alcoholics! Don’t think women can’t stand high like boys. In reality, women don’t get high like those heroines on-screen. That is bullshit! I meant what I said. In fact, I have told you that a number of times” she said.

The high wore down a little after those words. I could remember most parts of what happened that evening.

“Where do I start? Is it just an approval through words you want? Words are bitches sometimes! I write and I am still telling this” I started.

“There is never this, no strings attached feeling with words. We are accountable. I just have this tiny feeling of fear.  I don’t wanna lie to you about it. In fact, you are the one person I totally do not wanna lie about” took another sip.

“Clearly I don’t want to go the past. But I don’t have a present. I don’t know if.. if I can give this my all. I’m in this phase where every goal I walk turns out to be a mirage. I need you. I need you now. I’ll need you always. I am just this far from the Suicidal Thoughts.You know what gets me going YOU

“I don’t know if I am high. I don’t know how you define it. But alcohol gave me some serious confidence today” I think I said it all.

“This gives me some responsibilities. So I’m not going to let you drink a lot from today. You did speak so much and that matters to me. It’s just this freedom I have when I am with you that makes this so special for me. I don’t have that freedom even when I am alone. Wait! I don’t know if you are going to remember this evening properly!” she smiled while she said that.

“If I won’t rem..remember don’t tell any more important things. Already my memory power is damn poor” I stammered through.

“Barath! You are really in a good kinda high. You never accepted about this memory thing. Never before” she laughed at me.

“I think you got these words out. Not even Mr.Jack here. I’m down and normal. But this left side is less functional” I demonstrated.

She laughed again. You did not note that I told her I love her. She understood that. There is this one thing about humans. They keep you happy or teach you lessons! She was doing both and as i told in the very beginning, I am forgiving someone and Fuck! I am not drinking again! For sometime atleast!!

It’s time for the HOME RUN!

– just barath (c)

 

DuffeR diaries

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“Duffer! Climb up right now!”

She is talking about me. Where did I end it last time? It’s better to not know certain things right now. Ok! I can’t keep secrets from y’all. I did not reply anything to her that day. So, once the coffees turned cold. We paid up, smiled like we loved the coffee and started our way back home.

I decided to go to the bus terminus with her and that was her yelling at me for standing on the footboard of our bus. Footboard is where I learn my life lessons. I know ‘Footboard Travelling is injurious to health.’ Still…

“Barath! There’s place… come up!” she told again.
“I won’t. I like it here” I smiled.
“Ok! I’ll come down, then” she took a step forward. “Footboarding is for the Pros, for boys like me” I raised my hand indicating her to stop. “Yeah! I now know you’re a boy(smiles). Can you grow up a little?” she won the conversation.

I silently stepped up. I wanted to act like she did not tease me at all. But I know this fact and I am recording it here for all the times to come! I am a terrible actor. I miserably failed.

She looked at me, hid her mouth with her hand and smiled. Everest of embarrassment! I took out my earphones from the pocket. Yes! The perfectly entangled one. “Are you serious?” she asked in a raised tone. “You told you’ll come to the terminus with me and now you take out your earphones!” she completed.

I put them back in my pocket. “Sorry! If you feel bad for what I told. I don’t want you traveling on footboards ever again. Please! Don’t make me lecture about this to you. I am not at all the lecture type” she waited for a reply.
“Now be normal again” she smiled.

“Ok! Normal is not coming anytime soon. It will take some time or something to come back” I told firmly.
This particular way is how men roll. An embarrassment that worked out well takes some time to wear off in men. Even if it’s from a close person.

“Take your time. It’s my mistake. You know what? Climb down just one step, if you want” she looked like she completed, “No.. no. You stay there silently. Not a problem. No climbing down!” she added. I looked at her smiling.

That bus trip turned out to be a little awkward. That’s what happens in reality. This is why fairy tales, with 100% happiness do not come with us past elementary school. Fairy tales will not happen unless it’s the BLUE MOON DAY! Let us grow up! There is no lie in awkward situations. It’s the nothing but the truth. If searching for the tiny beauties in that truth is your quest, you will never fail. According to just barath Theory of Life, “It’s always about seeing happiness in imperfEctoins.”

She was looking at me throughout the trip, hoping I’d get back to my normal state. And if that isn’t romantic? What else is!

This duffer’s diary and lectures will continue,,,
– just barath©

Copyrights reserved.

Something’s brewing

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Episode 2

We took our seats. It was in the middle of No-Men Land. Should I ask her about what happened outside? Maybe not! It’s time I watch the movie properly This was the movie we both were expecting a lot. We, in the sense Me separately and her separately. I can tell you about how our story began. But, you wouldn’t believe it. Yes there is a #0.5 to this whole story. So getting back to my movie. It began.

How can I exactly tell, what she was doing? It was just the director’s name on-screen. Trust me! She was the only one standing up and shouting. She looked around, no one else was. Embarrassed, she sat down and looked at me. I tried hard to control my laughter. Thats when she told, “Don’t you dare laugh now! You’ll be dead.” That’s exactly when you start smiling. And so did I!

The movie was moving on and on. I looked at her. She was so much into the movie. And I was so much into her. Thats when I shared her something, that I have never shared with anyone. People outta nowhere become your closest. You cannot explain how but you just share so many important things with them. They were not close with you for a longer time, even then you decide they should be a part of your decision. This person can be anyone, a roommate, a stranger you travelled with, a mutual friend. The way you connect with them, that’s more important than the Time Factor.

She turned to me and asked, “Hmm?”
I told almost immediately, “I’m gonna drop my film project.” She was a bit shocked. “What?”, she was loud. As I told you earlier she knows everything about the movie and its progress so far. So far in the sense, till the minutes before I took that Big decision.

Good heavens! There were no one around us. I don’t know if it was a ‘SAVING MECHANISM’ or the ‘SELF DESTRUCT BUTTON’, the Interval Block came all of a sudden. She looked away, stood up and walked out. “Why does she care so much?” That was the first question that came to my mind. I know that makes me sound like a fool. But I am trying to tell only the truth about what happened, to you. So bear with me and later scold me.

I stood up as she got close to the door. Then ran to catch-up with her pace. “I don’t want to watch the movie” that was the first thing she told. “Shut up! You liked the movie. We are watching it. Don’t act so dramatic for what I just told.” “Dramatic! Barath you are going to tell me the reason, why you wanted to drop the film and I’ll tell you who the drama queen is! Let’s get out” she was angry, too angry! Right?

I am just helpless like Hagrid from HP now. Again I started following her, Because, she walks fast when she is angry!

Then she entered a cafe in the mall. “This looks so costly! Do we really need this to fight?” I asked. “Sit down”, thats what she told. I sat. We were the only ones in the cafe. I was lucky. The waiter came and I ordered two coffees. “Now talk” she told. “One, dont make so much fuss about it. Two, this sounds like an investigation. Change your tone or I am leaving” it was my turn to be angry. She came down a bit. Anger ↔ Anger gets the situation back in our hand.

She smiled, just for the sake of smiling. “Did I ever tell you, how you grew pink in the theatre when no one else was shouting like you”. Now came out the real smile.

“You know that, the lead’s character is more of my experiences. It was
40%-Barath. As I start planning for all the on-field things, she comes into my mind a lot. I wanna forget her. But I just am thinking that I am getting nowhere closer to forgetting her and this is not right. This film will only make things worse” I explained. 

You can’t forget Barath” she gave that Yoda smile.

“You were supposed to say something nice!” I said. “And lie to you” she completed.

“I tell something, that’s true to me or”. I completed, “Or, you don’t talk at all”. “I don’t want you to forget! Give ‘me’ something better than that! ” that was a shocker.

Give her something better! ‘Meh! Alert’
LOVE IS IN THE AIR IT SEEMS! But this wasn’t a normal love story. It got better, just like the way she asked. If you have read ‘Last Wednesday’ you’d know about Barath.

She took the first sip.

I don’t waste time talking about ‘Happily Ever afters’ its just a waste of ‘two seconds’. I could possibly kiss her in that time!

So long!
– © just barath

The film begins

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Episode 1

I’m still just a beginner when it comes to using the hand dryer at mall restrooms. It doesn’t dry my hands completely. Or is that how things work there. Why am I even thinking about this now?

Especially, when I have a girl waiting for me outside. And Good heavens this mall had the parking stairs. I could sneak in inspite of being late.
What am I gonna tell her for being late?

‘The hand dryer is messed up!’

Its time to silence my doppelganger talking, with the Ads and Anthem that’s going to be played inside the theatre. Its time to walk out. Because, if I don’t, she might complain about my missing to the Mall Security.

I started walking out and there I saw her. Wait! That’s some other girl. I wore my specs! Now I saw her, smiling at me.

‘Hi, Hand dryer.’
Shut the Fuck Up! CONFUSED BARATH.

I got to her, “Hi, Sorry for keeping you waiting…”

“No, Not a problem. I walked in only now.” and another smile.

‘You can walk in 3 hours later too.. But don’t forget to smile. Because if you forget, I can’t write poetry about you for your Birthday’ I thought.

“The hand dryer is messed up!” 

Shut Up Barath!!! Wait! I did not say that. To confirm I asked, “What?” She told, “The hand dryer inside was not working properly.” 

That screwed-up hand dryer. Yayy!! Its my turn to talk about the Men’s hand dryers’ mechanics. But I was satisfied with, “This problem happens everywhere. They care a lot about what’s on the outside and forget that the inside things keep everything going.” “Wow! Metaphorical and philosophical Barath is!” she told, she really did.

“Did you interpret it that way? You are so cool” I told her. Someone play that happy tears Music here, please. 

“I don’t hear that cool part often” she dragged. “I think I should tell this frequently.. if you want” we started walking.

“That won’t change my inside” she told.

“Nothing should. Except for you talking to yourself, nothing can change your inside” I cleverly replied. 

Then she looked at me. That’s the kinda look they talk about in my kinda movies. Barath! don’t try explicating this. I caught her looking at me and still she did not turn away. I was living the second and then she turned aside. What ran in her mind then? I’m just clueless.

Then I asked, “Why were you looking at me that way?” “I.. I can’t tell! You find out” she told taking a pause.

‘I shouldn’t have asked that!’ I did not know how to react after those words. That’s when some lines from PULP FICTION came running to my left cerebral hemisphere.
“That’s when you know you have found somebody really special. When you can just Shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably share a silence.”

She followed me to the theatre door and then our movie began.

-just barath ©
P.s. Barath will be the name only till I find a name for that role. Yeah! It’s just a name.

the hand-written letter

So long!
I have walked so much. You know it! Because the wind pushed your hands into mine and I held it. That kept me walking all those miles along with my ambitious ambitions. I have.. Sorry! I had no idea of leaving it. Until that moment, you felt my hand was so cold and I had to decide between walking alone or giving you moments of discomfort. I chose to leave it. What a fool I was.. I am to have such a thought! 

Was it so cold? My hand! Because, when hands turn cold, they become numb, you don’t feel nothing. But I could feel every small moment of your fingers which were inside my hand. No! I don’t mean to tell you were lying. And you too understand that I am not lying. So, rethink everything and come back to me. I’ll give you the warmth which I guess you want. But, if you don’t want anything I can give that too. I cannot employ some other sentence there. You know that!                                               Was it really cold? Ah! Sorry for asking that over again. I am becoming a normal guy without our ‘we’ moments.

No more Wind-Fingers Shit. Simply hold my hand and punish me with that chill I gave you. Men’s body temperature is comparatively higher I’ve heard.

Only yours
even after the mind defeats the heart.
just barath ©

And they ‘might have’ lived happily one second at a time.. for they knew happily ever-afters are one of the greatest lies History and Art have put-forth

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We create

One, one person

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“Chai, chai”, the dirty, uninteresting tea vendor was shouting by the Railway Station. But he was interesting to just one person in the entire crowd. One, one person. He checked his purse. Counted the last 2 rupee coin and it summed up to 17 rupees. He looked for the uninteresting tea vendor, who was long gone. Long gone into the crowd filled with many one persons, 17 rupees and black pens.

Little did his supporters realise that 17 rupees and unquenchable dreams are an irremovable part of him and his unique, impractical race.

They tried consoling him with words when only  shoulders and lies can save him. They tried giving him luncheons when only spiral notebooks and Writing softwares can save him and Yes! By law of nature he knows he will consider it stupid in a few days. They tried making him joyous by appreciating every little step he took when only he could see his skill rotting.

He remembers lots of things, even things which he wants to forget. And that gave him Words (Fortunate or Unfortunate, his readers will decide!), and then started a War between his Heart and Mind, a WALK OF SOLITUDE to fucking Neptune.

And still he decided to walk with his 60-year old lean shoes, catching his Branded Low-hip jeans from going down, holding his shoulders high to get hit by every crafted entrances of rooms towards death and also towards his home as he finally bought a cup of coffee from another uninteresting tea vendor with his Ticket Amount. He wanted to write when he reaches home with a pen that he had to shake well in-between 27 words to be precise,,,

-just barath
“©”(This is the funny bone’s work)

the first awk-word letter

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In love with a Pen.

Yes! I’m actually writing you something. This paper would find a place somewhere in your closet or your drawing table or might be folded into two for saving the edges and kept inside your Journal. I don’t care about where this paper goes. I just am standing here, under this cloud adrift, with fear, not sure if I can send these words, and by words I mean its crux into you. For inside this ‘o’ I have hid my madness and how I exclaim for the mere sight of you, over the title of all the ‘i’ in this letter, my love is standing, surviving the cold of all lonely nights. Every single alphabet that I scribble is for you, and you alone. Just decipher it and wink _____. That is the only moment I can survive without looking at my distorted reflection in your eyes.

I feel so awk-word now. After hitting you with so much out of my confused heart, I am. For I am not the incessant muse kind or the Love-Quotes kind. I am just the Basic-Love thing, with one-off definitions of this feeling. Need I say more! Say “Yes” for I have got so much to tell to you and reimburse for the silence and seconds you have given to me, and also the seconds that I took myself. Bear with me babe, stand with me, walk with me, save me by leaning on my shoulder, feel the heat of my palm by placing yours inside it.

“Words can’t adequately describe love” they said. But words and thoughts about you are all I have.

I can’t see any Albatrosses, skylarks, daffodils, coffee mugs, mistletoes, lobsters or gods that can set my thought on sail. I can only see me! My distorted reflection in your eyes and its image.

It got me into way too many thought-cycles and art-blocks. And proceeding to the next words are getting tough now. This is something I foresaw. Stay with me, if you can. Hope this letter finds you in good health. And I don’t know when this is going to…

Happy Life, anyways…
Only Yours until Oblivion.

-just barath©

Coffee and a renewed friendship

“Hey! Hi, how are you?” She asked as she saw me sitting on the stairs of the Concert Hall.

She was Akshara. I met her last year at the same Hindu Literature Festival. We mostly attended all the events on a day together and spent the day really well. I did not get her number and Wait! She didn’t too. I forgot her face, but as the advertisements for this year’s festival popped up, she came into my mind first. I even thought of searching the Likes of the event’s Facebook Page. But from 26,000 I don’t even have the slightest chance of finding her name, even before the next event.

“Hi, Akshara Right?” I told. “Yes, Barath, without the second ‘h’ ” she remembered my name, the actual name. “So you’re a volunteer this year?” I asked. “Yes, wanted a clear picture of the event. So signed up as a volunteer. No one would see the show better than me. I am at the front, passing Time Prompts to the moderators” she told, in what seemed like a proud and happy tone. “So, you were the one, who was actually tapping on the stage when Kanhaiya was speaking” I asked. “You saw me already! Why didn’t you talk to me then” she answered with a question. “Dude I was on the Balcony and how do you expect me to get your face and I hated you a lot, How can you ask people to end such Good Shows. I hated you a lot”. “That job was for the Iron-Hearts, someone who can stand so much Hatred, but it’s not that serious. Everyone understands the situation” she told completing the sentence with a smile.

“Had your lunch?” I asked. “Yeah Man! And don’t tell me skipped your lunch again”. I nodded. “Grow leaner and leaner” she said. “I’m lean and healthy” I replied instantly. Before she could begin her sentence, I asked her, if she wants a coffee. We started walking to the Coffee Place. Being a crazy coffee aficionado I told her about that brewery’s coffee “This coffee is one of the good coffees in Madras. Its 50 years old” I completed a little louder. “Really!” she asked in a rather dragging tone. “Barath, last time I ordered a coffee, got it and in 15 minutes the coffee turned cold. 50 years doesn’t sound good” she told looking at me. I started walking back. She caught me and turned me back simultaneously laughing at me and telling, “Ok! Ok! I won’t talk”.

We got our coffees and I suggested we sit on the stairs with the View of the Entrance. She nodded and we walked slowly and carefully, fearing the coffee might dye someone else’s dress. We care for our strangers you know.
“So Akshara, What do you think about the festival?” I told and took the first sip. She completing her fist sip. She looked like she liked the taste, told “Hmmm, Cool Man. Better than last year’s show. More People, learnt a lot”. “The decor is heavenly, little things with so much beauty. You changed the place altogether, It’s going to be harder removing all this and getting this back to normal” I told. She replied “They hired a team for it. It’s going to be hard for them.”

As we were talking a woman passed by wearing a White floral Printed Frock and Neon-Orange Puma Shoes. “Oh! Look at her fashion sense Akshara!” I told her pointing the direction with my eyes. “Get used to it Barath. This might be a big fashion statement in 2 years” she told. “But would you do that?” “Definitely not” she was confident and I was happy. “So many new faces right? This year” she asked. “Not just faces, new Skin tones, dresses and way of life. I have not seen this kind of an Intellectual English crowd before. These people are the Elites of MADRAS. You get a chance to look at them only in a Few Sabhas, Secluded Cafes and temples. I have seen a few of them. But seeing all these people together puts me in a state of a Cultural Shock. But in a good Sense. I mean I just admire” I told. “How good it would be to live like them! But sometimes I think it would be boring with too many responsibilities. What do you think?” she asked and took the last sip of the coffee. “It would just be a pain in the ass, for you and me. I am very sure” I told and we both started laughing.

We turned towards the entrance still smiling and spotted Rishi Kapoor Ji, some 10 steps ahead of us walking casually amidst few organizers.

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I saw him!

-© just Barath.
Happy Life!

P.s. – Purely Fictional. I went to the festival (The best lit fest I have been to!). But met no one like Akshara. I started reading my old works and missed writing so much, getting back little by little. It’s hard to get the first word out and even harder not writing. So long!