The Identity

" I have no desires, save the desire to express myself in defiance of all the world's muteness" - Vladimir Nabokov

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Part 1: The Identity

Who am I? A question so simple yet so philosophical that it has soothed souls as well as provoked numerous wounds.. In search of belonging, everybody strives to find an identity: an adjective or a noun which is so dangerous that it ends up causing limitless chaos, both individually and socially. I am a Muslim or a Christian, an American or a Chinese, a lawyer or a doctor, a wife or a mother, an introvert or an extrovert and so on. A label, you see, is that dangerous simplistic social identity we assume which not only makes us lose our individual identity but also gives us a collective identity for us to own, defend and demarcate. All of these actions ultimately cause relativity and thus the root of this volatile and complex world.

Part 2: The Lock down

He looked at the elegant watch he had not worn since long. The lockdown had lasted long now and he was not sure when would things go back to normal. He knew things wouldn't be the same and it should not be. The consumption economy had caused enough harm to people but while his heart was optimistic, his brain knew that the consumption economy would be back or rather further causing more harm.

In a random webinar he was once shown a video where a monk was briefly passing by the topic- "Who am I". In simple and brief words, he said that our identity is a sum function of all the people/ideas/things we love. People/ideas/things we love give us our identity and love is the supreme emotion which defines us who we are. According to him, when somebody goes through a breakup he/she basically remorses over the loss of his identity. Even the death of somebody closer gives us a feeling of hollowness for the loss of our identity. When somebody betrays us or breaches our trust, it actually leads to loss of our identity. Every feeling he said : a feeling of happiness or sadness was a byproduct of this identity strengthening or identity crisis and this identity was a by product of love. When asked by the audience, how to escape this identity, his answer was to love God. When we attach ourselves to God (infinite) or zero (Buddha way), the identity crisis would not happen.


Part 3: The migrant labour

He had just returned home after walking and hitchhiking several kilometers of distance from the fields of Punjab to his village in UP. It was a long run away from those arduous fields where everyday he had to plough yards of land for his rich master just for some pittance of money. Back in his rickety home, he could notice the conspicuous discomfort in the eyes of his four other brothers for one more brother had arrived to share the resources left by their deceased father. In contrast, the mother was happy on the occasion of her eldest son coming back and that too in the holy month of Ramadan. Probably, the virus causing mayhem in the world had become an Eid gift sent by Allah for her eldest son was with her after fifteen long years.

The entire family broke the evening fast together, the mother chose to give some of her iftar food to her eldest son who himself had taken less of the potion to ease the discomfort of his younger brothers. In the night, he went and sat by his mother's cot massaging her feet to help her sleep. The mother asked him about how had he spent his last fifteen years and commented him on his heavy Punjabi accent. She switched on to sharing tales of his underrated father (who had died when he was just twelve) as to how talented a musician (a qawwaal) he was. His qawwaali performances used to mesmerise everyone and was once blessed by the maestro shehnai player late Bismillah Khan himself.

In the night, he slept on the ground beside his mothers cot and saw (it was a dream or an imagination, he wasn't sure) Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan performing for a large audience in Punjabi and when he looked closely he realised it was his father's face singing the hymns of love in a language he would never have understood...

"Nitt khair mangaa soneya main teri, dua naa koi hor mang di
tere pairan ch akhir hove meri, dua na koi aur mang di"
(Forever I ask God for your well being, I don't ask anything else from Him
May I live at your feet till I die, I don't ask anything else from Him)

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A letter of good spirits

"Human life is but a series of  footnotes to a vast obscure unfinished masterpiece"- Vladimir Nabokov

This post is an epistolary attempt where a psychologist based out of Mumbai writes a hand-written letter to his wife in US, who is also locked down with their daughter (Ayesha) due to the ongoing corona virus crisis. This letter tries to step a notch ahead in conveying some warm wishes and love in an otherwise technologically communicative world of video-chats and social media.

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Dear love,

I am writing this letter in anticipation that it would bring you lots of hope, happiness and harmony more-so during these eventful days of a pandemic across the globe. I really miss being with you and Ayesha and not being able to travel and this inability to spend the weekend together is a discomfort I try to brush off. While we do catch up on video chats, but you are apprehensive of my helpless uneasiness with technology. Speaking with Ayesha on phone (than in person) becomes so difficult because I feel that on phone, the words lose their lightness and spiritual precision and with her I have to be extra careful as she is so tender and can easily be bruised by any ugly diminutive from my end.

My dear, how have you been? How is your work going? Have you been able to learn the art of taking classes through video conferencing? Here, in Bombay, thanks to lot of good word of mouth about my work, the demand has increased but I have to deny taking up new patients as I am barely managing the existing ones. Also, I am trying to take out lot of time for myself.

On my work front, there is a very interesting coincidence I wish to write to you about. One year back I had a lady patient, I am not sure I would have mentioned to you about her. I should not call her a patient but a girl undergoing a very difficult period in her life. In her work life, she had a boss who micromanaged her and was also less intelligent than her. Everyday she struggled managing and scuffled being managed by him. Even her personal life was chaotic, she tried dating men but then most of them felt threatened by her intelligence and the remaining few ones (she perceived) were too immature for any relationship. During her first therapy session, I could totally perceive the bitterness in her. Living alone with an uncontrolled mind, she had started getting suicidal thoughts. Hence she came to my therapy sessions and it wasn't difficult helping her heal.

Part two of the story goes like this. Six months back, I had another patient: a tall, well-read but a very confused man. He lived with this notion that  no one understood him: neither his parents nor his friends. A very disturbing notion indeed. He wanted to take a path of spirituality away from this mundane and materialistic world. At his parents behest, he had tried his hand at working in corporate sector but  he felt miserable in this otherwise insensitive and insolent world of business. Unable to cope up, he ran away to Rishikesh to be guided by an able guru. To put the further story short, this guru like so many other verbose gurus was a fraud and had put him addicted to psychedelic drugs. His parents finally tracing him in Rishikesh got him back to Bombay. Interestingly, the parents asked me to help and reluctantly I took up this guy's case. This was not an easy case as he was also undergoing a strict drug rehab phase. But like a true champion, this guy came out clean and healed. And also, he has some really good sense of humor which helped him heal.

Now, the interesting part. The girl and the guy are dating each other. The guy called me yesterday just for a chit chat and he informed me about the liaison. The idea that the two of them are in love with each other is so flattering to me. I keep telling these youngsters to ensure humor in life. If you can laugh genuinely, no mental health issue can even touch you.

Anyways, what do you do apart from your work? I am reading some other books of Kahlil Gibran, (apart from the Prophet). I have a client who is a passionate stock-broker and has also left me interested in the stock market and valuations. I have downloaded a copy of Intelligent Investor by Graham Benjamin but then reading books online is so difficult that I am planning to buy it later. In the movies section, I am watching this fabulous Iranian director named Jafar Pananhi. Remind me to tell you about him during our next video call. I am so enamoured of this genius director that I can go on and on. Meanwhile, if it interests you, you can research him online as well.

I guess I have written alot. Do take care of yourself and hoping things get normal soon for us to travel and see each other. I am always there in spirits with you.

See you soon and take good care!
Yours and only yours,
P

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Annual Letter to the Students

Prague, 02.05.2019

"We all have our times machines, don't we. Those that take us back are memories...And those that carry us forward, are dreams." - H.G. Wells

Dear Students,

As the calendar changes, I hope that with mirth and laughter you let your old wrinkles come to the year 2020! Like every year, I retain my habit of writing to you my dear students, this annual letter about charming nostalgia, tender resolutions, vacillating hopes and formidable plans. Most people in the world have their weird own ways to celebrate: some drink and dance, some sleep in that cozy blanket, some visit the temple, some travel to scenic locations. I humbly write to you all!

Charming Nostalgia

Austrian Alps, 27.04.2019 

"The future is only an indifferent void no one cares about, but the past is filled with life, and its countenance is irritating, repellent, wounding, to the point that we want to destroy or repaint it. We want to be the masters of the future only for the power to change the past." - Milan Kundera

So many books, so little time! We managed to cover few books this year. Borges was special with his book Labyrinth, what a head spinner the book was! Most of you complained about difficult time you had submitting the assignments on this labyrinth of a book. How convenient, no one came over with flattery of how easy the assignments of others books (Camus, Ishiguro, Calvino) were. Also, I totally endorse your complains of taking the bestseller book Ikigai in such a senior class as yours but I hope you will pardon me for the idea was to introduce the Japanese culture to you. Next year we will delve deeper in the aesthetically maddening culture of Japan. Hope you have all submitted your last assignments for the year on the documentary"Jiro dreams of Sushi".

Travel wise, the year would have been definitely better for you. We managed some funds and traveled to Europe, a continent whose classical literature and films we were most familiar with. Prague was as charming as in the books of Kafka, Kundera or Hrabal. And those blue skies, white mountains and majestic landscapes of the Austrian Alps and the charming pebble streets of Bratislava, I think all of these were soulfully humbling.

Always remember what Pessoa says, life is what we make of it. Travel is the traveler. What we see isn't what we see but what we are!

Tender resolutions, Vacillating hopes and Formidable Plans

"To be great, be whole;
Exclude nothing, exaggerate nothing that is not you.
Be whole in everything. Put all you are
Into the smallest thing you do.
So, in each lake, the moon shines with splendor
Because it blooms up above."
                           - Fernando Pessoa

Now looking forward to 2020, we will intend to read more, travel more and listen more. We have more poetry coming in your syllabus next year, also we have applied for funds for the trips to Nepal and Turkey. The trip to village in the Rann of Kutch area has been sanctioned. The idea of this trip would also involve stargazing, apart from the village hikes and soaking up the stillness of the salt desert.

This year's course also teaches you how to simplify your eating experience. There is no love sincerer than love of food.  Apart from the food course, there are some really good chapters this time like how to spend money. Earning money is easier than spending money and very few know how to spend money and not be enslaved by our consumption. Also we will be back to few chapters on music appreciation this year. There is another chapter on how to master technology, chaos and lower your worryability (Yes, Calvino!). In the books section, we will take on further books by Marcel Proust, Nabokov, Italo Calvino, and Bruno Schulz.

Some of you will also be volunteering to be mentors to the new joinees and will accompany them to various trips. Show them how to see beauty and help them "mature" into childhood.

I will not detail this year's course further and steal any further thunder of it. Hope you have a great year ahead and enjoy the little things. For in the dew of little things, does the heart find its morning and is refreshed!

Happy New Year!

-Yours.

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In the local train journey

"Abiding in the midst of ignorance, thinking themselves wise and learned, fools go aimlessly hither and thither, like blind led by the blind"
                          -Katha Upanishad

Part 1: He tweets and believes

Everyday he boards the same Mumbai local train from the Ville Parle station and stands at nearly the same spot close to the gate leaning on the seats. He would take out his mobile phone and open the twitter app. Everyday, without fail, during his daily travel, he becomes a social media warrior, vehemently commenting against anyone who had tweeted against the current Indian Government. He is a die-hard fan of the current Indian Prime Minister and is one of his biggest silent crusader on social media. His everyday thirty-five minutes local train journey is his tribute to the nation and in making this country a better place. At least that is what he firmly believed!

Part 2: They play and hope

The two boarded the same Mumbai local train from the starting station and that is how everyday they managed to get a corner seat by the window. Everyday on their fifty minutes local train journey, they would play ludo on their mobile phone. At times she would win and at times him. And in that losing themselves in the losses and wins, they would hug, peck, pat, emote. Few times, celebrating his victory, he would kiss her on the cheek and she would nudge him by reminding him that they were in local train and not some private space. And in love, playing the game of luck, they would reach their respective offices (probably same or different) gleaming in hope of a common destiny together...

Part 3: He sells and prays

He would board the train relatively for a shorter period of time. He had the loudest voice of them all and wore even a louder sandalwood paste on his forehead and neck. He had a melodious voice as often he would sing hindi religious bhajans to himself. And in between the bhajans, he would take out his phone and put his tiny earpods which were so invisible that if anybody didn't know that earpods existed would think that he was crazily talking to himself. Most of his phone calls were sales calls where he sold expensive flats to people. He would negotiate hard smooth-talking, exaggerating, cajoling and once his call was over, he, like a devout, would touch his forehead and then his heart as if asking God to intervene and help him close the deals. And then post his mini-prayer, he would mumble few abuses to his clients for being stingy and few to the Government for killing the real estate market in Mumbai. Finally when his destination came, like a daily ritual, he would again touch his forehead and heart, walking back to his office, hanging his lunch box, singing his bhajans and praying for a sales closure...

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Epilogue:

And in this daily clutter of life, she reflected on her life and realised her sense of loneliness in that endless ebb and flow of that crowded local train. She smiled at the thought that each one of us are ultimately islands, in our universe, running to barely manage our own businesses of living, far beyond the grasp of others, hoping, thinking, praying for solace from these daily ephemerals.. 

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And it rained

Part 1:The Office

The clock had hit few minutes past six in the evening and she rushed to finish her work so that she could step out early and spend some time by herself. As she was trying to concentrate on her last mile of work, one of her colleague came and asked her as to when was she leaving for the day. She responded "just a few minutes and I am done." To which her colleague smiled and left for her day. It was only a minute later her another colleague arrived and asked her as to when was she leaving and that why had she not left. She responded "just a mail sweety and I am done". Her colleague also left with the satisfaction of having reminded somebody of the work-life balance she very well deserved. And just few minutes later, third colleague arrived and reminded her of why she should leave and that the company didn't pay her extra for sitting any longer. She patiently responded she would leave in a minute as she had some work and that she will be done soon.
And before any fourth colleague came and reminded her of anything further, she packed her bag leaving her work unfinished and left for the day. And in the lift, on her way out, she forced herself smiles to the people heading homewards...


Part 2: Marine Drive

Rather than heading home, she took a taxi for the marine drive, as if the sea was pulling her. The marine drive wasn't that far from her office, her tiny 1bhk flat was. Sitting calmly at marine drive, unwavering thoughts kept coming to her like the tides in the violent sea. Her thoughts trembled from her failed past relationships to the couple sitting next to her, from her difficult boss to the old man strolling with his dog, from her best friend leaving the city to get married to the three ladies wearing scarves passing by her. It was in those pelting thoughts, it started drizzling and everybody around (the couple, the old man, the dog, the scarf ladies) started running for a shelter. Contrarily, she decided to sit and get drenched in the rain. And as the rains grew stronger, her thoughts had changed to the beautiful yellow streetlamps necklaced at marine drive, to the music she had last danced to, to the carefree street children playing around. After few hours of having soaked in rain, wind and light, she decided to head home and effortlessly, she was smiling at everyone around..

Part 3: Home
Footboarding on the local train, jumping on a puddle near her society gate, greeting the old security guard, she reached home all drenched. She ate her dinner which somehow tasted better today. She realised that she hadn't called her parents since long(they were the ones who always called her). Her parents felt relieved by her daughter sounding calmer and happier. In the phone call, her mother even warned her of not falling for any stupid guy again to which she laughingly responded that her taste for men had improved. And as the day was about to end, she switched on her old radio and smiled to the serendipity of the song:

Ek ladki bheegi bhaagi si..

Tan bheega hai sar geela hai

Us kaa koyi pech bhi dheela hai

Tan ti jhukti chalti rukti

Nikli andheri raaton mein

Mili ik ajnabi se

Koyi aage na peechhe

Tum hi kaho ye koyi baat hai

Ek ladki bheegi bhaagi si..

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Tale of the two

"This is true happiness: to have no ambition and to work like a horse as if you had every ambition. To live far from men, not to need them and yet to love them. To have the stars above, the land to your left and sea to your right and to realise all of a sudden that in your heart, life has accomplished its final miracle: it has become a fairy tale" - Lines from Zorba, the Greek

Part 1: North East India

One beautiful morning, in a serene and humble homestay in the hills of North East India, She sat on the porch engrossed reading a fancy looking book. Meanwhile in the kitchen of the homestay, the lady of the house finished her daily household chores and went on to prepare two cups of her favourite tea. On being offered the tea, she happily received the elegant teacup with an equally pleasant and aromatic smile. The lady of the house realised that the tea had distracted her out of the book and that the time was apt to sneak in a conversation. And then they both started chit chatting where the two ladies conversed to know more about each other. The discussion went on from recognising the happy married life of both to the common joyful preferences of simple joys of life. The lady of the house told her "You are different, you are more like us. Simple, positive, calm and smiling. Other people who visit us from the Indian mainland are so restless, chaotic and demanding. Your husband is surely a lucky man." To which, she silently responded in her mind, " you haven't met my husband, if you meet him you will realise how lucky I am. He is far more calm and alive.".

Part 2: Meiringen, Switzerland

One beautiful morning, in a plush hotel room in Central Switzerland, He pressed the send button of his email and went on to dress up for honouring a lunch invitation from one of his departing employees at his Swiss Office. The old man had worked in his office for around 33 years and during his farewell dinner, in an emotional and inebriated state, he had invited this Indian colleague to his house for a lunch. From the hotel to the old man's house was a beautiful walk surrounded by hills. The quiet hills reminded him of his childhood days back in India; for those were peaceful and irresponsibly great days of his life.  Finally when he reached the house, the old man and his wife greeted him at the gate and in response, he handed over the the wine bottle he had bought at a store in Bern. The lunch was sumptuous and homely and the following discussions even more welcoming. And in the evening before the sunset he asked for leave from the family thanking them for the lunch and the conversation.  The wife of the old man went in and brought two elegant Swiss watches for him and handed him as farewell gifts and said one for your lucky wife who has such a charming man as her husband. To which he smiled and silently responded in his mind "you haven't met her, she is one bubbly, jovial person. I am far more luckier that way".

And coincidentally after the sun had set for the husband by the Swiss lake and the night had crawled in for the wife sitting on the porch, they both gazed at the open sky enjoying the play between clouds and stars while serendipitously their earphones hummed to the common melody of Beatles playing....

There's nothing you can know that isn't known
Nothing you can see that isn't shown
There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be
It's easy

All you need is love
All you need is love
All you need is love, love
Love is all you need

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A day in the life

"For the mind is very restless, turbulent, strong and obstinate, O Krishna. It appears to me that it is more difficult to control than the wind." - Bhagavad Geeta (Chapter 6, Verse 34)

Part 1: Morning

The shabby advertisement in the newspaper jacket reminded him that it was 14th of February, popularly celebrated as Valentines Day. He, after his usual morning routine, sat down on his table but got a huge resistance from within to further open the newspaper. The content in the newspapers had offlate been depressing and it seemed like every news in the newspaper had a hidden motive to sell something. So instead he chose to pick up the book he had borrowed from his friend and started reading it. He realised that he hadn't read and traveled much last year and that reading more books and traveling more places were few of his silent new year resolutions this year.

Part 2: Afternoon

The day in the office was not turning out to be well. He had suffered lot of last minute cancellations and rejections to his sales funnel. The thought that he would not meet his revenue target for a consecutive fifth month made him feel disappointed and lonely.  He packed his bag and informing his boss that he was heading for a sales meeting, he headed to the sea beach. The sea had always pacified him.
The beach side was hot and sunny, so he chose to sit and read in a nearby cafe. Although a non-profitable customer, he had been a regular visitor to the cafe. Every time he visited he would just order a coffee and spend good hours till the sun reached closer to the horizon. He liked spending time in the cafe because of the friendly staff and the literary aroma it had.

Part 3: Evening

The sun was about to set and he headed to the sea which had a low tide today. It was a crowded evening at the beach today with lot of couples buying and a lot of vendors selling roses and ice creams. Love was in the air and what made him happier was the sight of old couples celebrating their relationships which had withstood the destructive nature of time. He bought an ice cream for himself and even for some children who were selling flowers to the couples. The smiles of gratitude on their faces added to the beauty of the sunset around. 

Part 4: The night

He reached home contented and happy and switched on his music player. He was reminded of his ex-girlfriend who had once told him that when one is happy, one focuses more on the music of the song and when one is sad one focuses more on the lyrics of the song, to which he had responded that he was perpetually a sad person. To his response she had smiled and kissed him on his forehead. The music in the room and the view of the moon from the window provoked a strange feeling of sleep inducing contentment which was stemming out from discontent.

In his sleep, he dreamt of being in the hills and running a small book cafe.

He woke up smilingly to realise that the music was still playing. Jagjeet Singh in his soulful voice was singing

"Hazaaron khwaishein aisi ki har khwaish pe dam nikle 

Bahut nikle mere armaan phir bhi kam nikle"

 (I have a thousand desires, all desires worth dying for

Though many of my desires were fulfilled, yet I yearn for more..)

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Musical walks of life

Part 1: Bombay

As he left his office at 11pm, the security guard at his office gate gave him a pitiful farewell smile. He was getting used to these smiles from everyone: friends, flatmates, colleagues and at times he (turning into both the watcher and the watched) would also end up giving himself a commiserating smile. Hanging his bag with a laptop and a book, he crossed the foot-over-bridge and began walking on the marine drive stretch. Everyday walk on the marine drive listening to his ipod playing old hindi songs helped him calm his restless mind.

The background music from his ipod, the aesthetic settings of marine drive and melancholic feeling of being a corporate slave gave him the perfect setting of being a protagonist from some art movie (the kind of movies which stir our minds instead of our wallets). Then he walked upto the Church Gate station and took on the fast local train to Andheri, where lived with his 3 flatmates in a tiny apartment. Everyday, he enjoyed standing on the gate of the train with the wind gushing on his face, it added on to that art movie feeling. Then after getting down at Andheri station, being denied by several auto guys he started to walk towards his home. And in that very walk, from the railway station to his home, every day, he passed through several vendors, some who sold tea, some who sold footwears and all these vendors were oblivious of his presence while he kept walking like a protagonist acting in his own soulful art movie.

And when he entered the lift of his building, his attention fell to the apt lyrics of the song playing in his ipod:
"Gham aur khushi mein farq naa mehsoos ho jahaan,
main dil ko us mukaam par laata chalaa gaya,
main zindagi kaa saath nibhaata chalaa gaya" 


Part 2: Delhi

It was a charming Delhi winter and he left his office early and boarded the local metro. Unlike the doors of the local Mumbai train, the doors of the metro would shut and that made him feel claustrophobic. He got off from the Green Park metro station and started walking towards his home. The pleasant weather was conducive for a walk. He took out his mobile phone and ear phones to listen to the FM radio to aid his walk. Somehow he always needed a background music for his walks. The thought of his stolen ipod  came to his mind, it had been one of his closest friends during his Bombay days; sadly it had been pick-pocketed in the crowded Delhi metro.

And in the walk from the metro and his home, he stopped by to eat a plate of steamed chicken momos. He enjoyed the idea of eating under the open sky and he knew that those momos tasted well only in this set of ambience because once he had got them packed for his flatmates and when they ate it there, momos didn't seam tasty at all. So today he ate his momos, paid his bill, thanked the vendor and started walking to his apartment listening to the RJ playing a soulful song which was serendipitously his most played song in the old ipod:

"Barbaadiyon ka shok manaana fizul thaa,
barbaadiyon ka jashn manaata chalaa gaya,
main zindagi kaa saath nibhaata chalaa gayaa"

Part 3: Bangalore

He shut down his cafe doors at around 11pm and after having dinner with his team, he walked back home.

Bangalore weather was really pleasant for good long walks but sadly the roads weren't (contrary to delhi where earth was conducive and the sky was not). And as he walked, he didn't want to analyse much as to where he was going towards in his entrepreneurial journey, all he knew was that he had walked away from the mediocrity of corporate life. And at times walking-away was more crucial than walking-towards.

And then amongst the tiny drizzle falling across the yellow street lamp, a sudden thought of his past travel to the hills came to his mind and the pleasant nostalgia brought relief to his mind amidst so much chaos and pandemonium. As he reached the gate, he smiled at the security guard of the apartment and exchanged the regular well-wishing pleasantries with him. The security guard, having found someone to share his happiness with, took out the recently bought second-hand mobile phone and proudly navigated him through some of the already installed apps like Uber, Whatsapp and flipkart, for which the guard had paid extra money. He even played some of the music from the songs which might have been downloaded by the previous owner of the phone. One of the songs triggered very strong emotions in him for the lyrics were:

"Jo mil gaya, use muqaddar samajh liya
jo kho gaya usko bhulaata chalaa gaya
main zindagi kaa saath nibhaata chala gaya"

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The Strangers

"The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion"- Albert Camus

The Guy 

This is a story about a guy who was completely carefree. He was as free as a freebird, no one ever saw him worried and his attitude was truly devil-may-care kind.  Some liked him, mostly hated him, but he didn't care. Elderly men suggested him to start caring about his career, elderly women suggested him to start caring about his relationships, but very few suggested him to be the way he was. He did not care about any of their suggestions and continued to be the way he was.

One fine day he met a girl who asked him why-are-you-the-way-you-are. He answered in his typical . idiosyncratic manner I-am-the-way-I-am. But then when he saw her eyes in detail, he saw beauty, a raw black and white beauty. He saw that rare kind of beauty which offered him the glimpse of eternity that he wanted to stretch out over the whole of time. She being a sensitive girl noticed the change in him having seen her beautiful eyes.


The Girl 

This is a story about a sensitive girl whose life was a perpetual pendulum swinging between her strong mind and her fragile heart.  An outsider, she felt that she never belonged-to nor could fit-in anywhere. Life felt like a movie to her and everyone except she herself felt like a character from a movie. She was just one spectator watching the movie from outside the frame. One fine evening, a friend of her told her about this completely carefree guy who didn't care and that she, who had a thing for "different", should meet him. Initially she was reluctant but then lot many people had told her that he was actually "different". So she decided to meet him and ask him why-was-he-the-way-he-was.

The Guy and The Girl 

This is a story about a guy and a girl who fell in love with each other. It all started when he saw beauty in her eyes and she found a companion in his indifference. It all started when he felt her presence and the worship of her eyes, and then his heart had turned to her in quiet sufferance of her gaze, without shame or wantonness. No, it all started when the girl first heard about the guy being different. Ideally, by that logic it all started when he (or she) was born. But then it was love, logic didn't apply there. The Guy started caring and the Girl stopped feeling like an outsider. Both stepped in the frame of their own movies and thus their unfettered love story began.

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                                                                                                                                                                                           Picture: Close Noir Art by Quibe
                                                                                                                                                                         Inspiration: Albert Camus and James Joyce

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