A Denial

unsealed on a west side a letter said,
i don't have to ever write this again, no no
on the west side, on the front side a letter said,
i don't have to ever feel this way again, no no
on a west side i want to wish it all away
and i sigh and i fall and i know that i'm never going to see this again, no no

yeah, can you see them?
out on the porch yeah, but they don't wave
i see them round the front way, yeah
and i know and i know i don't want to stay
at all...
i don't want to stay
i don't want to stay
i don't want stay, no no

Sojish in some resort in Lakkidi.

I could'nt help editing this picture when I came across it. Biking was always fun. If I remember correctly, this was my last biking trip.

Young boy in a University in a small town.

He passed me by on the way to the MBA block. I was not able to see his face clearly, but the glance was enough to make me pause and slow down my quick pace. That face was hauntingly familiar.
I swore I knew him from somewhere.

"I seem to recognize your face
Haunting, familiar, yet I can’t seem to place it
Cannot find the candle of thought to light your name
Lifetimes are catching up with me"


I saw him again in our mess. I had just washed my plate when I saw him sitting just a couple of rows ahead. I waited arguing with myself whether to go over and say "Hi." I watched him for sometime. He was neatly dressed. A dark blue shirt, khakee pants, neatly combed hair - all the features that distinguish a management student from us MTech dudes.

I finally go over and say "Hello". He pauses, his hand full of rice, sambar and curd freezing halfway from his mouth. I apologised for my intrusion into his private space and said
"Excuse me, but you look so familiar to me. Can I know your name."
He drops the rice back into his plate, and begins mixing it again, this time with more sambar. Either he really likes the mess food, or his taste buds are extinct.
"I am Shankar." He replies... "And you ?"
"My name is Shivan, Shivapratap."
His eyes light up momentarily. "Shivan, from Vidyodaya?" He asks.
Soon everything comes back to me. Good old Shankar. I knew him very well. He was a small kid back in school about two - three years younger to me. Quite a character he was, and an excellant dancer. He asks me how I am and what I am doing here. He was also kind enough to ask about my mother and brother. I promised him that I will convey his regards to them. As I sat down next to him, he apologised for not recognising me. Its no big deal, I tell him.

"Me you wouldn’t recall, for
I’m not my former
It’s hard when you’re stuck upon the shelf
I changed by not changing at all, small town predicts my fate
Perhaps that’s what no one wants to see"

He had changed a lot. No longer the small thin boy with ill fitting shorts, he now goes to college impeccably dressed with an english vocabulary that would put Merriam-Webster to shame.

I did not see much of him from then on, but we exchanged greetings whenever we saw each other. Apparently, that was the only conversation that we ever had. He was too busy with his schdule, and the same was true for me.
I finally saw him during the passing out ceremony with his Mother where we said a quick good bye to each other. I found it surprising that the meeting of two students from the same school, who had been together for a little more than 5 years, could be so emotionless and plain. Or is it that we have become mature ?
Anyways, I dont think about it now.

"Hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away...
Hearts and thoughts they fade..."