Fireflies in the sky.

I caught a firefly on one dark, moonless night. She flickered and flickered and flickered. As if she were teasing me and bragging about her own charm. I didn't respond. I gazed at her, dumbstruck, intrigued and possibly consummated by her beauty. She stood up in the air as though there was nothing more supreme than herself. I said, 'The fire-crackers mimic you too' for I didn't want  her to be aware of the fact that I too admired her. This time, the firefly chose to remain refractory.

That made me wonder if the firefly could seep in through my mind and irrefutably be cognizant of my actual thoughts about her. She buzzed all around as busy as a bee. Stealing the whole show. Her striking red hair and flaming eyes are bright as the Mid-summer sun. Her know-all spirit makes her glow, distracting you and me.

Little boys chase her. But she dodges left and right, confusing them and disappointing them. She flies high above and her gesture conveys that she's too pure for them or anyone else. The little boys pout and frown in dismay. She's still beautiful, the thought prevails.

I wanted to be many people. Now, I wanted to be her. A firefly. A firefly is never glum, she just glows and glitters and twinkles. Because how could you be glumly when the sun shines out of your head. I looked deep into her eyes. She said she doesn't wait for the summer but makes summer with her glow.

At one distance, the star gleamed. Struck with jealousy upon my new found love towards the firefly. The star was very far, but the firefly was very near, very real and very hypnotic. I always loved the stars, I knew they would be back at the same place if I returned tomorrow. But the firefly, she would radiate off.

My mind glowed. I recollected Og Mandino's quotes- " I will become a firefly and even in the day my glow will be seen in spite of the sun. Let others be as butterflies who preen their wings and yet depend upon the charity of a flower for life. I will be as the firefly and my light will brighten the world." 
The firefly was at its epitome of pride. A pride she deserved.

Fireflies are messengers at night. See, magic does exist. I hope she returns someday, with all her friends, beautifying the night sky. Some October night, maybe.

A leaf drifting from the tree.

I wanted to be many people. I want to experience all the shades, tones and variations ever possible in my life. Apparently, I am. All credits to the bus travel, through the same 6 km stretch I pass each day. The travel and the destination might be same each morning and evening, but each day was surprising. One day gave me immense joy looking at the innocent restlessness of  a 14-year old getting late to school. The funny little gestures made me paint a picture of how helpless he felt when the traffic had turned itself into a villain between him and the school teacher, who would listen to no excuse ever made on this planet.

Another day made me realize how I was getting used to the new routine and didn't feel tired anymore. About magically running into a long lost friend and complete the talks where it was last left. About a three dozen people accompanying me on my way back. About the rain gods loving me just right, to pour down heavenly and leave me elated. So far so good.

But today was different. I was presented with a chance of being a different person. Not the happy go lucky, rain-loving or childlike-person but a different extreme. A woman who had faded into an indifferent middle age sat right in front of me. Corporate life, I suppose. All tucked up with a laptop bag, identity card and packed lunch. I smiled at her as I entered. But she wasn't smiling. Nor was she angry. She was weary and her eyes were as dull as a smoky glass. She was on the phone conversing with a sister or friend, as I had assumed by her talks. She blinked heavily, tears fell over her cheeks like a fretful stream over boulders. Those electric tears pierced my morning smile. I had gone to the other extreme. I was not just observing anymore, I was saddened at the extent of her melancholy. 

The rest of the people never reacted. It was as if only I could see her tears. Everybody else continued with whatever they were supposedly doing. Time and again, I looked around hoping people leaped over what they couldn't get through. Or maybe, they had their mind churning, just like I was. But I was pretty sure, they weren't. The whole atmosphere blackened out for me. I waited and waited for her to finish her conversation, so that she would turn her eyes towards me, so that I could tell her, it was okay. Tell whatever bothered her, would pass too. But she had drowned in her pool of disappointment, everything else was insignificant to turn eyes on, at that particular moment.

I had reached my destination. I had to abandon the surrounding. She was speaking to somebody she trusted, she was pouring out her pain, she was crying, she would feel better in a while. All I could do was leave her with a reassuring smile that was to convey that everything would be fine, sooner or later. She blinked yet again, and a huge drop of tear came rushing down. I hope, it was the last one.

And the lump in the throat stuck with me for the rest of the day. So much that I couldn't stop thinking about it. And hence, this post. I hope I see her again, with a smile. I hope people notice. I hope ignorance to this extent doesn't prevail. I hope I continue to be many people..

The infinite spectrum of possibilities.

Hello there!
Long time no write. I won't say I was busy, for I know it's always easy to make time for something you love doing. I would rather say, I was in a voyage of observation, exploring and exploding. Enough of me. Writing time it is!

The travel by public transport always leaves me awestruck. Every incident of travel teaches me something. I have already mentioned about studying my co-passengers' thinking and state of mind by their expressions and giving an exercise to my mind till I reach my destination. After all, we all belong to the same species, some level of understanding and fraternizing does make life, or rather, travel, worth living and travelling respectively.

It was a queer sunny day. I was once again with a pack of homo sapiens on their way to various destinations with various purposes and innumerable number of thoughts possessed by each one of them. A few looking out for their stop, a few smiling at their mobile screens and a few others in deep thinking. Bangalore is famous for a lot of things. And one of them, invariably is, traffic. Traffic, traffic and loads of traffic.

Dozens of vehicles venting out pollutants selflessly and people waiting restlessly, some even with narrowed down eye brows, frowning and cursing whom so ever they  could think would be responsible for the traffic. The traffic moves slowly, and every other person driving tries to ooze into the tiny gaps no matter how impractical it seems. Try, try but do not cry, right?

A young man with a customized design for his car tries as well. He tries so hard that he fails to notice the bus next to him and almost misses a crash. A screech. A screech that disturbs all the homo sapiens in the bus and the young man as well. Now, what do the wild and delinquent reflexes of the young man do? Any guesses? Out shoots a bunch of offensive words ever known to human kind. Too much unity you see. Profanity had to be exercised thoroughly in every language possible.

Bad guy, right? But the bad guy gets all the attention in the world. All the homo sapiens focus the lime light on him making various remarks as if he were a brass monkey. But also making sure nobody outside could hear it. Gossip is much more interesting than action right? Too much of sarcasm or what? But I promise, character assassination had begun. I too, had been giving bad stare for almost 300 seconds now.

The traffic moved again. The young man's car was overtook and the bus moved forward. Just when most of us had decided to radiate off to other topics to ponder about, the young man's car came along. The traffic had stopped moving yet again. The young man's window pane slides down. Another conflict, most had guessed. But, as the saying goes, expect the unexpected, the young man apologized in word and gesture. In a matter of merely 5 minutes, there was a complete metamorphosis in the personality of the man.

I was happy. The world out there is beautiful. What one feels for a particular moment is valid only till that moment passes and till self realization creeps in. The anger had sublimed. The apology orifices. Most ignored the second half of the personality, just like it is more often done. First impressions, they say. Judging too soon, I would say.

I smiled at the young man and the smile was reciprocated. The unpleasant moment had cleared. So did the traffic. And we went on..