Tuesday, 30 December 2014

Hobby....And I was punished.

I used to curl that metallic, steel coloured rectangular box to me wherever i went, sat, and slept. The most prized procession, I had, of which I didn't want to lose sight. The one that I showed off to every one, taking pride and explaining in detail about the blood and sweat that has gone into this. I patted myself on my resourcefulness, while digging through the filth in collecting the treasures of trove. I borrowed the lens of Mr 10th Baker Street, looking for the tails and eventually finding new evidence. Wow...what a trail. 

I even got a feel of what barter system actually meant when I used trade one of my items with the wannabe collectors for a full size image of my fav star from sportstar, the then revered magazine, or for a polished square magnet, or for a treat of yummy phuchkaas, alu kablis ( bengali for paani-puri ) during the school recess. I even tried to cash on this with the opposite species, the girls, but in vain..they were never interested..I still wonder Why??? I had been asking this question to my wife, who used to be one of my then targets, with no concrete answers. 

This box travelled to Durgapur, Haldia, and Kolkata wherever my father got transferred. All credit goes to my mom, you know how they are. She used to treasure this as if its an IIT or IIM certificate that she cannot afford to lose..But then with time, when new friends, noon shows, girl friends, nancy fridays wrapped in brown sheet started keeping me busy, I lost touch and the maddening spree declined. 

Recently, while searching in the store room, though I could lay my hands upon that rectangular metal box, the contents - THE NUMEROUS COVER FACES OF A MATCH BOX, the different designs, the varied colours - were missing; all memories coming in a flash......May be the rats acted as a messenger and helped those disappear in the thin air, punishing me for the way I shelved those, ignored those, and left those on their own.....Yup..I'm sorry, and I deserve it....


The adage holds still...there's many a sip bxn the cup and the lip
When I thought I've touched the ribbon, there went off that beep

Thecoldcomfort, the consolation....there's always a second time
Was there a bit of truth in it, or was just a friendly dime

The last, the final option, and then all w'll be dry
If this slips by, I wll be clueless of where to start, and what else to try

Neither can I stand on a soil so soft, nor can I walk into the stinky cage
Can I keep my composure, or be trapped in the maze

The light is at the end of the tunnel, thats what I thought
Thoughts can also be delusory...why alone Looks always boil on the pot

I experienced the truth..Beatings of life is harsher than those of a cane
Wincing in pain, I still reprise, this bleak moment wll eventually wane

HE w'll either drop a new canvas, or wll spread the blotter
The breeze of hope is getting steady, and my heart stops to flutter

Winning this over, I want to scream till my vocal chords ache
I hope HE befriends me in this very last take....