Letter from a Stranger

Just when I start cribbing about my monotonous routine, some incident makes the day, in want of a better word, interesting! And yet again, our Delhi Metro becomes the backdrop. But the flavor is totally filmy.

For those who still aren’t aware of my plight, I’ll give a brief again. Since I started work at Zee, I have been taking the first metro at 6AM in the morning. Either I am in a zombie like state or too engrossed in my book to bother about anything else. But I never realized that someone else was bothering a bit too much about me!

Today, at Rajiv Chowk metro station, while I had settled down on the platform to catch a nap while I waited for my train, a young boy approached me and handed me a novel: Charles Dicken’s David Copperfield. And our conversation went something like this:

Boy: That guy in the red jacket has given this for you.

Me: *Puzzled expression, almost a frown* What? Who? Excuse me, what?

Boy, pointing vaguely behind him: That guy in red has asked me to give this to you.

Me: Who are you talking about and what..

Boy: I have to catch this train. I’m in a hurry.

And he was off, and I was left at the platform with the heavy novel in my hand still staring at the space where the train had been like a fool. After giving myself a few seconds I opened the book and found a letter inside written on a ruled sheet torn from a spiral notebook, written in black ink. The letter goes like this (sic):

Now its been more than two months I am seeing a very sweet girl... A pretty girl with specs... very punctual of time... a rigorous reader.... never moved her eyes away from the pages of novel... never cared what's around her... & lastly, looks supercute while taking naps between stations....

I don't know what her name is but for me she will always be "the Novel girl:.....

It isn't that I had never seen a beautiful girl before but ever since the day I have seen you, you have been in my mind... So simple still very sweet...

I am (I’d keep him anonymous to you all)... CA Final Student.... we both board the same train from Model Town station... I am very simple... I speak very less & understand things simply. I normally have a reserved nature but don't know why I opened up to you.

Don't take me wrong.. I have just expressed my thoughts in words. I always thought to approach you but never dared to... I think I was more than nervous and also I never wanted to look cheap. So I thought this is the best way I can express myself, silently.

CONFESSION - I had followed you to Zee network office..... very sorry....

bcoz I wanted to know about you...

If you think I am wrong and you find everything absurd then please ignore me and find a perfect trashbin for my feelings...

But if you think that we can be friends, you can contact me...

email id/ facebook id - : (Skipping this particular detail as well because of obvious reasons!)

Humble request:

Ma'am, Atleast accept this novel as a small gift.. I am wondering whether you would like it or not but I suppose it would be as good as "the Wuthering heights".

Wuthering Heights happens to be the last novel that I was reading. I will admit, the letter did put a warm smile to my face and my heartbeat was slightly accelerated because of the exhilaration. Flattery goes down well with all women and I am no exception. I was feeling good but soon, this emotion was replaced by that of worry. Is he a stalker? Should I be scared? What should I do now? Ofcourse, I will return the book, but how will I even recognize him? Would I hurt his feelings? He seems like a decent boy from his letter and would be embarrassed if I end up humiliating him unintentionally. Should I write him a letter as well explaining that though I find the gesture sweet, I cannot accept it? 

Anyhow, I will think of a way to politely decline his offer of being friends, but I will always remember this letter from a stranger which warmed my heart on a chilly morning and brought colour to my cheeks.

*Sigh* J

Middle Aged Me

So it’s been quite some time since I graduated. The last I attended college as a student was on 29^th April. I graduated a young, vibrant, fun, cheerful girl of 21 and 8 months later I feel middle aged, already! I grew a decade old in a matter on months. By middle aged I mean, I am more reserved (as if that’s possible!), more observant, more mature, more sincere. Almost a nerd. My saving grace is that I can still take out double meanings from almost all conversations. I still dance like drunk on cheap songs (the latest being Sheila ki Jawani and Munni Badnam), both, alone in my room (which can be scary if you happen to peep in through the keyhole) and in public (which will have you in splits).

There are many more silly things which keep the kid in me alive. But the symptoms of middle age are distinctly pronounced. A few of them are as follows:

 

1) Patience - I had a short fuse and was proud of it. At times, it was extremely hard to disguise my intolerance. 

After beginning work, I realised that immaturity is an acquired trait, something I have always had low tolerance for, despite being quite immature myself. The funny thing is that most people, who pride themselves in being veterans (read: Snobs!), have amazingly high levels of this not - so - hard - to - find trait. Colleagues fight like kids (though their verbal matches are liberally littered with the choicest of abuses), shout like kids, are as stubborn as kids (at times, close to stomping their feet!). But unlike kids they can't be pacified with a bar of chocolate. When I first got my glimpse of this coveted corporate world, my first instinct was to save myself from the filthy politics of it. But I am not a quitter so I decided to be a part of them, but at my own terms. Now when I watch grown - ups fighting like cats and dogs, I feel amused and in more personal environments, shake my head and cluck my tongue in disapproval and launch into mommy - like speeches on proper etiqutte!

 

2) To joke or not to joke - I was among the few girls in my school and college who had a funny bone. I could make and take jokes unabashedly. Being so sporting and having a good sense of humour made me a tomboy of sorts. And as most jokes end  up being, mine too were insensitive and it was only after I had blurted it out did I realise that it could be receievd in bad taste. 

And now,

NOTE: I feel like a telemarketing salesperson elaborating the after and before effect of a product! :P

And now, I think twice before even passing a comment and either the moment passes away or I end up biting my tongue. And when someone makes a joke on me, I blush like an idiot and my rebuttal isn't as quick and cunning as it used to be. No wonder it is a humourless world. I guess the dryness in people around me is rubbing off on me.

Sigh, such is life dearies!

 

3) Boring: Ok, I have always been a boring person when I am on my own. I am a 'ME' person. I prefer devouring books while I am cozy in my blanket, watching movies back to back, playing my guitar, writing something, all singular activities. I am comfortable with myself and don't feel any need for company. Coffee with friends and movies in theatres and shopping sprees are fine (shopping isn't really fine, but anyway...), but it's the solitary things that give more pleasure.

But there was always a fine balance of solitary and group activities. Of late, I am spending too much time with myself. My itinerary mainly comprises of work, sleeping and eating. I squeeze in music and reading while I am travellign to and fro work. I sleepwalk through the week and it is only during weekends that I relent to my craving for good company and indulge myself. So earlier (yes, it's the before and after thing again) I was comfortable being with myself, and now I have no other option but. The result is: Boring me! 

 

4) I'm not a girl, not yet a woman: Am I reading too much into it or have people really started taking me more seriously now? Suddenly people (especially aunties) start scrutinizing me in a whole new way once they get to know that I am working with a news channel. Infact, a few of my relatives have called me especially to consult on some serious issues! I feel comfortable enough in adult company and the conversation flows easily. They treat me like I am one of 'them'! Though, there are times when I get bored of being treated like a 30 year old and hence, the jolly uncles who pull your cheeks no matter how old you are, will always be missed and loved!

5) Philosophical + Sentimental = OLD - If ever you need advice on personal matters, please DO NOT come to me. Of late I have begun ranting a lot which just guarantees raised eyebrows and stares. If you feel like making small talk about the weather or any new accessory that you just bought, be prepared to listen to a long philosophical monologue which will eventually come around to the inescapable point of how the only important thing in life is being happy and content. And if you happen to find me an un-philosophical mood, don't feel lucky because even if you would be spared from 'only - happiness - is - important' soliloquy, I will, in all probability, launch into a sentimental dialogue on parents, self respect or any other random topic. If you are a girl, you might bear with me for a good 10 - 15 minutes (which would be unadvisable as it would only encourage me to build up momentum, which most definitely would be injurious to both my and your health). But if you are a guy, 30 seconds later you would be running down the lane screaming and declaring my insanity! And when at the young age of 21, boys run away from you, then you don't need any other proof of your middle agedness.

 

 

There are many more evidences which confirm my rapid aging but either they are too embarassing to share, or are skipping my mind (that, dear friend, is another symptom of middle age). Although there is no trace of gray in my unruly hair, no laugh lines close to my eyes. So the situation is still in hand. It is not all bad. The fact that I see in myself a new confidence, better judgement of situations and people, a relaxed and mature attitude, sharper insight and other changes which aren't too obvious at sight, is exhilirating. Also, there is a new maturity on my face which makes people take me a bit more seriously. So overall, its not as bad. Besides, I believe a middle aged grace along with a girlish charm is a rather enviable combination. :P 

 

At the end of the day, all is well. :)

   

 

 

Making Memories

When life is playing a game you suck at,
or pampering you with happy hours,
There are few people I can always count on,
Because nothing is mine, it's always 'our's'.

When old photos fade, memories blur
of joy and bitching and night stays and fun.
Don't fret my love, we'll meet again,
to make new memories, all happy ones.