Lemons you see, they get around everywhere…

“I don’t do atta” I had proclaimed a few years ago. I still don’t . For some reason my friends found that hilarious. They still do. But over three-and-a-half years later, I came close to doing it. I had a lump of pre-prepared clay in front of me and I had to knead it till there were no air bubbles in it. So I did knead. But not atta.  Small saving graces.

I’ve been meaning to learn doing something constructive with clay for years now. I thought my first class would be learning how to make a small little cup on a wheel. And at the end of that class I’ll come home grinning with a little, badly shaped cup, all smiles and happies in place. But no. It wasn’t. It was about kneading right. And also, about making coils. It did make me happy though. But it also made me realize that I pretty much suck at making thin coils of clay or placing them in any order. But then again, the last time I played with clay I was in primary school. Plus, first class and all that jazz. It was still awesome though. And the second class was even better.

So yeah, I finally have the time to learn pottery. Never thought it would happen this way. So many plans didn’t work out and then suddenly life throws you a really raw lemon and you play with “dough”, weathering the Bombay monsoon, while you wait for it to ripen and see what to do with it. Well, in this case I could keep it basic and stick with lemonade eventually. But then, that’s boring right. I am thinking lemon cupcakes. I’ve never tried those before. But no harm in trying, right? Couldn’t get worse than this.

Now some lemons have hidden wheels and may take you far far away from where you are right now. This one might not just lead to some botched cupcakes but a move back to Delhi. Not that I am closed to that. So yeah, lemon on the side, play with the clay as the rain comes down. It has to be ripe before I can even set out a plan of action in motion.

All in a limbo. Now. Just before I make the age meter add a one after a three and a perfect repeat of where I was at just this time, just after finishing Manki’s story, four years ago. Maybe this is a sign. The first book was a story set in summer. The next is slowly kneading itself in my mind. This will be set in a space and time when the skies open up, the rains come down and wash everything around but just never the parts that we wish had been washed away.  

Lemons you see, they get around everywhere… Tiny little round buggers. Oh well! For now the kneading goes on and the lemons with their blindsiding ways wait. To strike. Lemons are them ill-timed monsters that we never want to see. Now what are the chances of that happening… 

Where do we go…

 It is a wall

Invisible

Strong

Unrelenting

I did not see

I smacked right in

It hurts

You cannot see my pain

No one can

You cannot see my blood

No one can

There is none

It is invisible

Like your wall

But I see

And I feel

And I look

I look at you beyond the wall

Disbelief

It’s wet and salty

It pours down my face

Pools in an invisible pool of emptiness and air

It’s wiping my faith

It’s wiping my strength

I clutch to the edges of love

It’s twisting and coiling

The edges are slipping

My fingers feel heavy

And so does my heart

I sink against this wall

Its cold

I can’t see

I don’t know

I don’t know anything anymore

Where do we go?

Where do we go…

You never should have loved dearest heart.

You never should have loved dearest heart.

I have but one of you.

Cracks I could have maybe mended.

But what of these shards that are now pooling around my feet?

What of my love for you as these shards cut the ground beneath me?

What of you my love? What of you?

You always knew it was too good to be true.

That feeling that made you want to burst and sing with joy inside of me?

Did I not warn you?

Go slow I said, go slow dearest heart.

I have but one of you.

You pleaded.

You reasoned.

You fought.

You won.

I soared.

I glowed.

I loved.

I loved with abandon. Like you.

I trusted and stretched my faith. Like you.

I believed. Like you.

And now I bleed. Like you.

I scream my silent screams. Like you.

I dream my broken dreams. Like you.

You never should have loved dearest heart.

I have but one of you.

I will gather you dearest heart. I will gather you.

I have but one of you.

These shards may cut my palms.

I care only for you.

I will find every shred.

I will find some glue.

It may be blue but it will be true.

But I will let this blood be on my hands dearest heart.

I will let the blood become a part of me.

Streak and congeal along the lines of my fate.

It will remind me, and you, of what you never should do.

You never should love again dearest heart.

I have but one of you.

I stay, just where I am, for now...

Watching from a distance

I smile

I pray

The curtain has risen

The moment for which a million hours were spent waiting, has come

I watch

I feel

I pray

And, I stay

Just where I am

There are plans

And then there is reality

There are ideas

And then there is action

Fire

Despair

Joy

Gratification

And sometimes, when it is all over you have to sit back and watch

Just watch

Take some time

Assimilate

Ruminate

This was not the plan

Yet so it is

So be it

The race is over

The contest begins

I cross my fingers

I watch

I smile

I pray

And I stay

Just where I am

Till the next turn on the way

LOL!!!

So! It has begun... 

The cover of my debut novel is out and the book is days away from gracing bookshelves across bookstores. Is it a new start? Yes. Is it the start of an entirely new career? Yes. Is it the beginning of the only thing I see myself doing henceforth? No. Writing is my passion. My love. It is a part of me and always will be. But if this is the only thing I want to pursue for all my years to come. I don't think so. But right now a more hilarious aspect of my debut makes me laugh out loud every time I think of it. Every time someone mentions it. And every time I look at the cover. 

I am super excited that everyone is loving it. I am also super excited that it has grown on me. Yes! It had to grow on me. My first reaction to it was "WHAT? NO!!!". Really, it was. I was far too skeptical and far too shy of the idea of too much leg as it were on the cover of my debut in the public eye. I thought it was waaaay too much. I was hoping for god knows what... Something different obviously (but that's too much description for this time of the evening so lets just leave it at that for now, shall we?). But as they say, never say never. I said never when I called my best friend after forwarding her the email with the cover attached. I said, "Oh my god! What am I going to do? I will speak with Vaishali now. This can't be the cover. My first book can't look so sexual. Don't you think this is too sexual? It's like this chick is doing something naughty! No. Never. This can't be it!" I was clearly close to a full-blown panic attack and obviously ranting. And She just laughed out loud and said, "you know what, I love it. It is spunky and retro and fun. And that's what your book is. And you know what, these look like your legs! They do. Be honest. Did you pose for this picture?" Imagine my horror as my hear rate climbed several notches and I broke into a sweat. I said, "Shit! This cannot be it. Never. Never. Never. Ever. I am writing back to Vaishali right now."

And the fact that I am recounting this is making me laugh out loud too. As they say, never say never. Oopps! Have I said that already? I think I have. Anyway, so as luck would have it, when I went to the Penguin office in November during my whirlwind trip of India, I was shown the cover with much excitement and I was horrified. After having gone through the entire process of saying I didn't quiet like this option and if they had another one, I had selected something rather different from this. And guess what, predictably, my best friend had not liked it. "Hai hai! You are so boring. Just like I have to force you to wear colour, do I now have to force you to not go with this new option?" she asked, resigned almost.

But coming back to where we were, the look on my face was enough. All I remember Vaishali saying next was, "Oh my god! You don't like the cover! You don't like the cover?" and I just meekly nodded my head and said "no no! This is fine. Good in fact. I like it. Just that it wasn't my first choice that's all. I was expecting to see something different. But his is cool. I like it." I was kicking myself mentally for having said never and for the next couple of weeks slept fitfully at the thought of all the comments I'd have to hear. How this cover got chosen is also another story in itself so we shall leave that aside too for now. 

But having said all this, I am in love with the cover now. I absolutely love it. I do! If I could I would put a poster of it on my back and walk around Florence. 

But I still haven't said out loud what is making me laugh out loud. The fact that everyone has been asking me if those really are my legs. Really. Interestingly mostly from women. Especially those who know about my undying love for shoes and my subconscious ability to constantly wear the shortest shorts or skirts, thus keeping my limbs out for all to see. I quiet like my legs you see and that is something everyone who knows me knows too. If there is one thing I flaunt it will be them limbs. The lower ones that is. And as another dear friend put it, "do you have those shoes. They are so like something you'd have. I want them too." 

LOL.

What are the chances that my debut in the public eye has legs and shoes as its most visible aspects? Seriously! Well, like I always say, when it comes to me, the chances of something like that happening are very high.

And in this case I can firmly rest my case too.

LOL! 

   

What... Why... Am I...

What's my narrative? 
What's my construct? 
Where do I come from? 
Where do I go now? 
Am I one of those who don't belong to a concrete circle? 
Am I one of the few with shifting roots? 
Am I a being born of a reality that seldom surfaces? 
Am I proof of a life that few recognise?

Don't tell me otherwise... I absolutely refuse to believe you!

The good ones always finish last.
Yes they do!
Now don't go say that I’m just saying this because it's been a bad day, a bad week, a bad month or a bad year...
Don't say that it is not true.
It is and I know it as sure as I know that the sun rises from the east and sets in the west.
Trouble is... honesty, simplicity and truth is simply not taken at face value anymore.
We descend from generations of in-between-the-line readers and we take that just another notch higher...
We cannot help it.
The truth is when something is simple, we must complicate it.
We must question it.
We must litter that reality with hypothetical questions and observations drawn from the experience of others.
We must never believe that simple and plain can be true and just as it is... as it appears.
Simple.
It’s too complicated to understand and too simple to be real.
I believe straight and simple is good.
And being good gets you nowhere.
Nowhere.
So yes, I do firmly believe that the good ones finish last.
But then you might want to add, that they are also the ones to have the last laugh.
I might give you that one... For I do believe I will get my laugh too.
Yet, I'd like my laugh before my hair is all silver and my skin all expensive-cream soaked mush pretending to be young.
I'd like to stay good.
Now if only I could infuse a bit of a bitch in right there somewhere.
I wouldn't mind having a laugh a little before the one at the very end.
I'd rather finish a bit sooner.
A bit saner.
A little bit of a sinner.
I'd rather not be good.
Or simple for that matter!