Sunday, March 19, 2017

Impatient Reader.

Posted by Sunaina Patnaik at Sunday, March 19, 2017 0 comments Links to this post

It was around midnight when I had the urge to finish the book I started in the morning,
on a bumpy cab ride, I opened the first page to mark it with my name,
the ride made my name look illegible,
a little less elegant, a little less cursive,
the words, as I discovered, were everything that my handwriting at the moment wasn't,
they were elegant,
full of life and what one could call, soul wrenching and thought-provoking,
my delight of discovering a new writer and the romance with his words came to an abrupt halt as I reached work,
after making a mental note of spending a sleepless night to finish it, I resumed my activities,
that midnight, however, was a different tale altogether,
a book I procured so carefully from a second-hand bookstore was nowhere to be seen,
scouring the bags, rooms and areas under the bed yielded no favourable result,
with disappointment writ large on my face, I took to venting out on all mediums I could find,
no amount of coaxing from my fellow readers eased me as I subjected my brain to a great deal of ridicule,
its forgetfulness, recklessness and the mere ability to leave a book in the cab was unforgivable,
but as my plight worsened, I ordered another copy of the book and decided to endure the long wait of seven days,
7 sunrises, 6 sunsets, I calculated, didn't seem long as I imagined engulfing myself in the words of that writer,
so right now, I have a new friend coming my way, sunshine in my pocket, and the thought of living and breathing new words,
I am an impatient reader again.

Thursday, March 09, 2017

Escape.

Posted by Sunaina Patnaik at Thursday, March 09, 2017 0 comments Links to this post

The moment of despair began with a morning of unfulfilled promises,
when everything came undone,
word by word,
inch by inch,
memory by memory,
I shook my mind as I prepared for the day,
where even the most exciting possibilities seemed sordid,
when food tasted rubbish,
and books held stories I couldn't mouth,
as the day began to progress,
the noon turned into a gloomy little evening,
with a sunset too bland,
on the dinner table, as I sat across my own reflection,
I realized that no one escapes unscathed,
from this wretched thing called love.

Tuesday, February 28, 2017

You Signed Up for This.

Posted by Sunaina Patnaik at Tuesday, February 28, 2017 0 comments Links to this post
Every time I say you signed up for this,
I wonder if you imagined our togetherness differently,
Because life is built on unfulfilled fantasies and
unchartered territories,
The idea of love as shown in movies is a fable that we are miles away from,
Even if we're grappling in the dark praying to reach the shores of the kind of love we fancied, we might not,
The standards, I guess, were always a fabrication of our silly minds to mock us at what we cannot score,
Maybe I cannot promise you the fantasy,
Maybe I should not,
Because what I can offer you is, a different kind of love,
The one, that's ours, and probably not a figment of imagination,
On days when the sun refuses to shine and you gnaw your own mind, I'll remind you of the person you are,
I won't be the one rescuing you, but I will turn every dark day into a funny poem that you can recall on a day you'll not have me around,
On nights when you find my reason beyond any measure of sanity, I will rather give you a reason, to look beyond the measures,
Because who decides what's sane and what's not?
And on afternoons when time comes to a halt as we sit facing each other at a lunch table, I will  try not to fill the silence with words,
Even when words come easily to me, I will let you be,
For I don't squander love and words,
For when they are uttered, they ruin the possibilities of fathomable probabilities making way for the ineffabilities that my heart isn't made for,
So, take my silence and inability of expressing our bond,
But don't put them in that big brown box with labels, that is due for a return,
Instead, help me in carving them for our wants and needs.

Monday, February 20, 2017

A Little Luxury.

Posted by Sunaina Patnaik at Monday, February 20, 2017 0 comments Links to this post
When I was sixteen, I was given my first mobile phone. It did not have high-end features, but it had a radio. For reasons many, I was content with just that. I frequently stayed up late for studying or reading and found FM as my only companion. Sitting next to the window, I listened to the late night talk shows which were catching up in those days. Radio jockeys with an intense human connect, people going home from work or movies, and lovers going through heartbreaks - no matter what, everyone poured their souls out without any fear of seeming vulnerable.

Even before I had the freedom of exploring blogs and platforms where people had the power to share their experiences, I heard people talking about them on radio. I could hear them, sense their apprehensions, understand their joy and often hear what's unsaid and listen to their suppressed tears. I knew regular callers and I knew what exactly they would talk about. Maybe I saw a pattern in everything they shared. Or every failure they tended to ever so carefully.

As a child, I was told by my elders that a radio was the single most powerful device which connected you with the world outside. If my grandfather knew about India's independence, it was through a radio and if my mother heard a movie review, it too was through a radio. I mean, imagine the days when there was no TV, but only a certain voice emanating from a device. A certain voice without a face that everyone relied on.

Over the number of years, the way we procure information has exponentially changed. Now that I think about it, I don't plug in my earphones to hear the news on the FM as I did when I was a teenager. Because Google Assistant religiously updates me, every morning. Funnily enough, I don't even read them. On odd days, I turn on the radio on my way to work only to be bombarded with advertisements. And with so many of them.

What must have thrilled people around 60 years ago (or even 8 years ago), definitely doesn't anymore. A lot has changed in these years - my mobile phone with all the greatest of features that one can ask for does not even support something as basic as a radio. I remember being shocked at it when I was unboxing it.

"How can it not have a radio?"

I asked a couple of friends who never responded to my fury, appropriately. But as someone who literally spent several nights discovering new artists and albums on the radio or by receiving book suggestions from certain RJs, I wonder if our next generations will ever enjoy this simple luxury.

If they'll ever know that they can simply plug into the radio to feel a little less lonely during nights.

 

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