“Oh!!! it's him again..."

“Oh!!! it's him again..."

Tringgg….. tringgg… her cell phone rings.

Oh! Its him… What a time to call, she thinks, but attends the call…

“Hello???” she.

“Hi! Howdy?” he.

“Okaaaay…” stretches it a bit…, impatiently, conveying her already escalating irritation…

What an inopportune time to call, she thinks. She has so much on her mind and then he has to call now. Ok, I’ll just give him a minute and get him off some way.

He’s silent.

“Oh, hello?? Are you there?” Maybe the line got disconnected, she thinks, hopefully.

“Yeah, right here.” He.

“Yes, tell me. What’s special??” She asked, very formally. She didn’t want to sound too curt either.

Uncaring of her irritated tone; “Just remembered you, so I thought why not call you? Nothing important, though. Remember that presentation I had made??”

Now which one was that, she wondered. “oh yeah, that one. did you…???

“Yes yaar, the same. Got a very unexpected response.” He.

Now the cat in her; “Unexpected??”

So it goes on for some time. And then “You’ve been a great help” He continues; “Remember that…”

“Look, I am expecting a very important call, can I call you back?” She had to prevent him jumping into another one of his escapades.

“Sure, I’ll wait for your call. Bye…” He sounds just a bit concerned, again, but disconnects.

Ha!!! What a relief.

How many of these types do you know? I mean the guys you don’t want to talk to, don’t want to be seen with and yes, no use for?

You won’t remember when he came into your life. He just glides into your life. You might have met him in a party eying you from afar. You might have met him in a friend’s place helping out, or just in a bus or train or at some public place. Before you know it, he has smoothly landed in the apron of your life, like an old student to a teacher, like a lost son to a mother or like some old friend, someone you knew from a long time ago, part of your life from yonder.

He just cozies into you with his glib talk, has your cell number and e-mail address before you know it and when you reach home there’s already a mail waiting for you in your inbox and that message tone you hear is his message of thanks to you.

He’s one of those flirty characters, sometime overbearing or even patronizing. He’s the one with that ‘holier than thou’ attitude. He’s that ‘know all’ kind of fellow. Probably he thinks too much of himself. Sometimes he suffocates you, constricts your thoughts, just real pain in the ‘you-know-where’ kinda guy…

You would love to ‘hate’ him, but for some reason you won’t do that, someway you are always in contact. You remember and call him when you are stuck, want to know something, something about something, some consultation. Then brush him off, coz he doesn’t stop talking, but you probably got what you wanted. He triggers something with his non-stop yapping…

He isn’t someone despicable or despised. He isn’t someone who troubles you for something or other. He isn’t someone who owes you money you’d loaned him, nor is he that one who keeps asking for help. Though he’s just useless, he’s always around, just around the corner when you want him. When you think of him, he’s probably already dialing your number and, when connected, will probably tell you that he was thinking about you.

Oh! Then there is nothing he’s not adept at, or so he probably feels. He has an answer to give for everything, a comment on every issue and an answer to every situation, and he’ll, unabashedly, voice it even though he isn’t asked to, or expected to. He makes you feel better, or he’ll try to, if he feels you are sad or in dumps or in deep s**t. He’ll talk inconsequential things, things that aren’t important at that moment, that hour or day. But he’ll blabber on, almost as if he has guessed your mental condition. He speaks you out of that mental condition, weans you away from your present thoughts.

He’ll make you feel on top of the World, praise you high, ‘chane ke ped par chadhaata hai’ kind of guy.

He keeps you interested for a few minutes, gives a lift of sorts to your drooping spirits, makes you laugh at some silly jokes he brings out of some freezer… old and oft heard ones… but he uses them in such an irrelevant and silly kind of way, you can’t but laugh. He’ll make you feel wanted. He’ll make you angry or happy, chirpy or just cross if you want to be changed. He changes the mood you are in, for good or bad, you forget what you were doing or were busy at. He’s absolutely useless otherwise, but he’ll listen to you…

He’s also a human being. He also has his own sorrows and happiness. He, also, falls in love, mostly one sided, as he doesn’t express it but keeps it to himself. You wouldn’t know whether he’s in love with you or not, but you’ll always feel so, mistake his flirting nature, hence you are a bit wary, a bit concerned. Sometime you are really annoyed and reprimand him and push him out of your life. You hope never to see him again, never to talk to him again.

Oh! He’ll feel the rebuff, be pained, feel bad and dejected but he’ll just get up, dust his cloths, comb his hair, smile at himself and the World and out he goes. He’s back again for one more round of romance or being useless and always at the beck n call of the girl he has decided to latch on.

Till one day you miss him, you think about him, and then…

your phone rings…

-------------------- Ken Featherlite --------------------

abhi naa jao chhod kar...

Fail Not Thy Meet

(with due apologies to Shakespeare)


Then her cell phone rang, in that endearing ring tone she’d set for him ‘Main zindagi ka saath nibhaata chala gaya, har fikr ko dhuen mein udata chala gaya’.

He was like that, contrary to his age and responsibilities he had, full of cheer and élan. She had so many online friends, but none, ever, like him. She remembered why she had got attracted to him, 10 years her senior in age, a profile that itself spoke the man he was. This online friend had become so important to her that she knew she can’t live without him. Now the day was nearing, when she’ll see him, in flesh and blood, her love. She had been expecting this call.

She lifted the cell phone and, with all the love she could muster in her voice, said, ‘Hi’.

He was as chirpy as ever and with that ‘josh’, so typical of him and said ‘howdy silly?

She always went soft and mushy when he called her that, not his regular ‘sweetheart’ or ‘chocolate’ or ‘buttercup’ or ‘butterscotch’ or his own special concoction, ‘Chocolate covered Alpenliebe’. Though a diabetic, he loved sweets and used all his favorite items on her. Didn’t she love him soooooooooooooooo much?

She said ‘Hi dumbo,’ he liked it very much. ‘Tell me’ she said as usual and he said ‘luv ya honey, my silly girl.'

‘I am reaching on Friday afternoon and will be checking in ‘Hotel Grand Cannon’ he said, his joy so contagious that she felt some of it rubbing out on her, too. It was her suggestion, because it was only 5 minutes from her home, and he had booked online. In fact she had drawn the schedule for his three days stay there.

On his arrival, he was to call her and after sprucing up, he was to meet her at Café Coffee Day (funny about that advert, ‘a lot can happen over coffee’) right across his hotel. They had decided to sit across each other holding hands and looking into each others' eyes, not talking, just saying everything they wanted to say through their eyes. Then they were to go around the town, just holding hands and have dinner at a quite place. Not that she’ll need it, or he. Each other’s company, itself, was enough. Then watch a movie and later drop her back. He had always wanted to do that, so he can kiss her goodnight. He lived in a kind of dream world only young boys of 18-19 will think about, right out of those love stories the youngsters read.

Saturday and Sunday were so fixed that Sunday evening was specially kept for a meeting with all her net friends and he was to be the star attraction. He wrote well and always original. Most of her friends online had always liked his writings. He wrote stories and poems, both in Hindi and English. Only thing that prevented him from writing in the other 6 language he knew was the lack of readership. He was a real ‘polyglot’.

He had said that as soon as he arrived, he’ll give her a tinkle, and saying he had lot of things to wind up before starting tomorrow, he hung up with his usual ‘luv ya honey’.

She suddenly remembered that today was Wednesday and he was reaching on the day after tomorrow. Hell!! She had to do so many things during the next two days. Make arrangements for that meeting, get her old pink/brown striped shirt washed and ironed, he loves it, she remembered, and she was going to wear that, for him. And she had to visit her beautician, for having her hair done, it’s been more than two months and she was avoiding it, ‘lazy bum’ that she was.

The next two days were very hectic. She had to call up all her friends and ensure their attendance, fix up the menu, time and what to do afterwards. Surprisingly, he didn’t call the next day, till he was in the train.

She could imagine him jumping around in the train as he spoke in his inimitable effervescent style as he said that his seat was confirmed and that the train was on time. Throughout that evening he kept on calling her and sending her messages, as he usually did.

It was ‘that’ Friday, one she’s been waiting for. Unusually she got up very early. As is her routine, she switched on her favorite FM channel, and listening to the songs, went about preparing to go to office. He was not due till evening, but she had decided to go to office early and finish all her work by four, so that she can come home and change, before meeting him. Her FM channel, for some reason wasn’t playing the usual love songs. She also heard RJ mentioning some railway accident and, as these channels usually do, give out telephone numbers for the relatives to contact the authorities. She thought about switching on the television to know more about it and as she was just searching for the remote, her cell played the message tone. She knew it’s got to be his, his regular good morning sms. She loved them and had told him that his sms always made her day. As usual it was one mentioning how much he loved her and how deep; today it was ‘as deep as the deepest mine man has ever dug’. She loved it, always loved the innovative way he said he loved her. Assured, she had forgotten the train accident completely.

As expected he called dot at 5 pm and said that he’ll meet her at CCD in one hour flat. She told him that she need to go home, wash and change and will meet him at 6.30 sharp and he should go and occupy a table at the farthest corner.

She arrived on time at CCD and, as he had promised, hugged her and remained like that for so long that she knew people might be wondering. She felt her being drained out, out of all her pain, hurt, unhappiness that has been accumulating in her over the years, she felt relaxed and relieved and a lot lighter. He held her at arms length and looked at her and gave that smile he calls his weapon. Actually it was a great feeling, his hug and his smile. Later, after dinner and the movie, he dropped her home, and, as promised, he kissed her, deep and passionate and left her near the lift after giving her a wink, smiling impishly and humming the song 'abhi na jaao chhod kar, yeh dil abhi bhara nahin...'.

Saturday and Sunday went as planned, exhausting but terrific. The meeting with her friends was a great hit. He had that uncanny knack of endearing every one he met, in seconds. A few words and his touching your elbow while shaking hands, was electric. Even men, there were three of them, started liking him once their protective mask got removed by his friendly casual down to earth countenance.

Late, around 1.00 am, he had dropped her near the lift and, again, kissed her passionately, lingering a while longer. He said good night and requested her to come to station to see him off. She agreed, morning train time did not clash with her office hours, and said good night and entered the lift.

As she switched on the light in her room, she saw the day’s Newspaper lying exactly where she had left it in the morning, half hidden under her pillow. As she lifted it, a picture of a mangled train caught her eye. And below that picture was a list of people who were dead or injured. And, staring at her in the list of the dead was the name ‘Ken Featherlite’

She couldn’t believe it. Ken had just now dropped her near the lift. He was with her on Friday, till late in the evening, whole of Saturday and today. She and her friends and Ken had a great time together. Could it just be a mix up in names? But she couldn’t get it out of her mind. Called two of her friends who were in that meeting and they, too, felt it could be a mix up of names.

Then she decided to call the Hotel. They checked their guest register and said, ‘no ma’am, he didn’t check in at all’. There was no one in that name registered in their hotel.

Now she was really shivering. She dialed his cell number. No ‘pal pal pal…’ welcome tune. No ringing. No message from the cell company.

As she disconnected the line, her cell rang, the sms tune.. she looked at the screen, message from Ken Featherlite. Relaxed, she opened the indbox and read the message;

“Hi Honey, how can I miss meeting you? ‘Fail not thy meet…..’ “

She looked up, her eyes rolled and she collapsed…

-------------------------------------------------------Ken Featherlite

‘In search of a perfect HUG’

‘Why’ : she.

‘Why? Coz you’ll like it’ : me.
‘I don’t like it’ : she
‘Why don’t you like it, I thought a hug’s supposed to be good and are liked by all…’

… and so it went…

Are there good or bad hugs?? How can a hug be good or bad? Can they be different in type or kind or...?

HUGly questions…

I can understand the difference between a smile, a grin and a smirk. But a hug? Bear hug apart, can a hug express different emotions, too?? Can it be anything other than a hug?

Well??

Of course, in a very different kind of way and it’s in the mind of both the giver and the receiver.

And then the revelation; that the hug has everything to do with the mind and the receiver’s immediate mental, physical or spiritual condition…

Aahaaa…

I went about searching for the perfect HUG

Remember how a little child comes crying to her mother and the mother just hugs the child even without asking what had happened while uttering words like ‘its ok kiddo, shhh.. dahling.’ The child, after a few seconds in ‘that’ hug, stops crying and goes back to whatever she was doing, even before the mother had started asking why she was crying.

The child was sad or hurt, in pain or just unhappy or maybe for any other reason or that she just wanted to feel the comfort hug gives. The mother only knew her child needed her, needed to be comforted and the reasons didn’t matter, the solution did. That simple hug did what the child was expecting, gave her the comfort, gave her the feeling that someone cares and she can run to her mother whenever she needs that comfort.

One doesn’t need to know the reasons why the other needs to be comforted, or need that hug; in fact the receiver isn’t even aware that it was a hug that was needed, but just needed to be comforted. But the giver understood the need that a hug is needed to be given at that exact moment, the need to comfort, without asking any questions, and all will be fine.

It’s this precise moment the hug is given, that becomes the most important part of a hug, timing… A delay caused by asking questions, asking the reasons actually takes away all the comfort from the hug, it just becomes something uncomfortable and the receiver tries to squirm out of that hug.

The wonderful warm and cozy feeling of comfort is when the giver knows a hug is needed, and understands the receiver’s mental condition that needs to be comforted, and gives it immediately, that brings miracle that has made HUG such an important thing in our lives.

Then there are occasions and reasons for hugs, like now…

HUGZZZZZ…….

A hug is worth its weight in gold if it is given at the precise moment it is required and given without a word.

The ‘perfect hug’

------------------------------Ken Featherlite

‘When suddenly you found me ho..ho..ho’

‘When suddenly you found me ho..ho..ho’

Attraction, infatuation, love, affinity, adoration, adventure... sometimes, even worship…

Though, in all these, some kind of ‘romance’ exist, ‘love’, for some reason, is the only item common to all.

Few words or feelings are as misconstrued, as 'that' love. where 'that' is 'the' most misunderstood issue, not love.

This is the exact place where it all begins.

That that ‘that’ is also the root cause of all the ill-will between people goes unsaid.

And then comes another altogether different item, ‘need’.

Need is like hunger, a sort of craving, something one want to sate oneself, to compensate for deprivation, to fill the gap, caused by shortage or non-availability, ‘need’. Haha.. that opens up another round of debate and discussion, And I am sure, if anything this will.. surely..

Because the need keeps changing… though it starts with hunger.. the body’s requirement for nourishment to sustain, to live on..

Before we are dragged into that huge chasm between ‘Need’ and ‘Greed’, which could be another story altogether…, we curtail ourselves and veer back to our ‘need’ and ‘that’ love. Or ‘need for ‘that’ love.

Now the ‘need’…

Since, usually, most of our lives started with a bang, not that ‘bang’ but bang which means with lots of fanfare and celebrations. Then it starts to wane slowly… means the ‘honeymoon’ can’t last forever. And to make a life for ourselves and the baby down the line, we start sacrificing our pleasures. We cut down on many things. Being together is the first major casualty and then… one finds oneself adjusted to most of those situations we had said ‘we’ll never fall prey to’, during our courtship or that extended honeymoon.

It, the ‘need’, usually arises sometime in ones mid age, to be read differently than that mid-age crisis. Here the mid age, usually, is when one has been well settled. We mean one is married and have kid/s, a good job for either one or both the spouse, a comfortable house with or without the in-laws etc. But we are discussing a slightly different angle here… one which has kept them (both of them) away from each other in the daytime. Whether one is working or both, it all ends up with meeting each other for break-fast or dinner, early in the mornings or late in the nights, and exchanging pleasantries apart, no other communication. But then they had forgotten to live. Waking up, morning chores, preparing for office, leaving home late, hurrying, and missing the train or bus. Running late being the most commonly used phrase. Oh, there are Sundays and holidays… Well we don’t need to enumerate what they normally do on such days…, when they’re sidestepping each others to avoid conflicts or not at each others throat or… we know.

Then, when we need to talk, we phone, and we find that the spouse has no time. Busy in the office work, having a meeting with the boss or with a client, preparing an urgent presentation, or any of the other reasons one can find in the cozy air-conditioned comfort of one’s office.

‘When suddenly you found me ho ho ho…’.

Then we meet our counterpart, a kind of alter ego, a clone of ours with only one difference, one is a man and the other is a woman.

We meet them in an official function, a meeting, a workshop, a training session or some such occasion. Nowadays, on some social net-working site during a not so busy period in the office or while traveling or while just waiting for the delayed flight to take off.

Two people, looking for an escape for their emotions… a kind of bond being the immediate result…

Two people with the same issues, the ‘need’ and they find the time spent together were good and has given them some emotional release, some unburdening of a load in their minds. They exchange phone numbers, e-mail addresses, their social networking nicks and handles.

A few days later one wants to talk again. You ring up, message, mail or log on and chat.

“Hi, busy?’

‘Naah, tell me? And courteously ‘in fact I was thinking of calling you up myself. Actually I was thinking about what we spoke that day...’ added to make the other comfortable.

‘Oh!! Really??’ an opening…

‘Well, I called you to…” and so it continues and the bond is further cemented.

They may have been two of the most incompatible, if most parameters of compatibility is considered, but one, no emotional connectivity or contact. That has been missing in their lives. This happens to, mostly, those who could not cultivate friendships where venting of those pent-up emotions were possible.

Then they meet again, its either she finds him or he finds her. You talk, you patiently listen, you share. First those simple words and then thoughts. One finds someone to share life’s good points, sorrows, happiness and a whole lot of other things.

‘aap yun hi agar hum se milte rahe…’

An emotional attachment commences and a bit later, dependency. A ‘relationship’ starts… relationship, not love.

‘Relationship’ is a word the most misused, if various connotations of the word in Queen’s English Dictionary are concerned. It also means emotional (sexual) connection or association.

What started as an avenue to vent ones emotions ends up in or at or…

Back home one wants to make up, a bit of guilt motivating one to experiment certain things learned in that relationship. The prime motivation being ‘to keep both working, the ‘home’ and the ‘relationship’. Sadly, it doesn’t work out as expected. Something is still missing, at both places….

One wonders… ‘Where has ‘that’ love gone??’

Ken Featherlite

The Voice that took my breath away...

'Meeting a Voice'

One of my most eagerly awaited and anticipated events were meeting the people (read gals) with whom I have been talking on phone, chatting, messaging, mailing or writing good old type letters or postcards (remember pen-pals of yore??). Chance meeting or planned meetings were always a thrilling experience. Well, mostly.

These were voice that belonged to receptionists, telephone operators, clients or staff of clients and a few unknowns or chance connections (hello my dear wrong number…) etc. In a way, in retrospect, the liking for each other’s voice was mutual. In fact, the whole thing revolved around that liking. Voice that we actually liked to hear, loved to hear. We found or created enough reasons to talk to each other. In a way we were in love with each others’ voice, the way we spoke and generally liked each others tele-company. As we say now, we got connected. Waiting for them to call was a daily affair and awaited with great anticipation.

There was this delightful voice I’d heard and loved immediately the very first time. This was a kind of soft sing-song voice, like a girl’s belonging to cultured family. We hit off right from the beginning. Whenever she called, we used to talk for a while before she would patch me with her boss. Many a time she would even call without reason and talk. She giggled a lot, spontaneously, and I used to love her giggles.

Meeting a few of them were well planned affairs. Such planned meetings took a lot of preparation; setting up date, time and place of meeting, the exact location I will be sitting or standing, colour and type of my attire and other general identifiable points. She, in turn, giving far less information like straight hair, a ponytail etc. A green dress (means slawaar kameej or Punjabi dress, took a bit of time before I understood that). Once I even bought a new shirt and an aftershave lotion. Getting up early on those eventful days, cleaning and polishing the shoes, ironing, trimming mustache, shaving as late as possible, like just minutes before leaving home, to look and smell fresh.

And then there were those chance meetings…

One fine evening…a few years before my marriage…

I was invited by one of my clients for the engagement ceremony of his daughter. Dressed for the occasion and being not of the family circle I parked myself at a corner, with a clear view of the entire hall filled up with about 150 guests of all ages. While the ring ceremony and other functions were in progress my eyes roved around all the girls and young ladies in the hall trying to identify that girl I used to speak to, as she had promised to be present without fail. After all it was her boss’s daughter’s engagement, how could she miss it? So I thought. Later, I even roamed around like a bee looking for flowers and nectar, went to earshot distance of girls to hear their voice and despite all my efforts I was aghast that I couldn’t recognize her or her voice. Finally, I gave up presuming she wasn’t present there for some reason.

After the function ended, I found myself at the end of the guest line waiting my turn to congratulate the family and the couple. My client stood with his wife and their daughter and the groom to be, in the traditional style, the girl on the right of the boy.

As my turn came, I dusted my nose, cheeks and forehead, pasted my patent smile on my face and proceeded to first congratulate my client, shook his hand and...

I heard someone say " Ken ??"

The voice, that telephone voice, suddenly hit me. It came from very near. I looked behind my client, no one. While he was introducing his wife and, as is usual with me, brought my palms together for a respectful namaste to Mrs. Client, my attention was elsewhere, trying to locate that voice. And I heard it again. "Ken, Hi !!! "

It hit me hard, as if a block of cement had fallen on my head, the young girl's voice I’ve been so enamored with, was standing right there, in front of me but…

It belonged to Mrs. Client.

“I thought you sounded much older Ken" said she in her young sing-song voice.

I couldn’t dare to say... ‘And you sounded much much younger ma’am’

lest I offend her, because… because??

Mrs. Client, that young sing-song voice girl, was over a dozen years older than me.

__ Ken Featherlite__