The sights and sounds of a new city had me excited and I daresay I found myself wondering about the winter in Northern India, Anjali was with me and we were in Ludhiana, the commercial capital of the regal state of Punjab. I say regal because these guys wear colourful turbans here, "and man it looks princely," that's what Anjali had to say. Anjali as usual was drawn to the colours, "damn how did she get used to a staid personality like me," she loved the play of light on say a colourful yellow and the shimmer of dew drops on a satin blue. I have often thought about it, when we see a col or what do we see, do we see the shade and tone or do we wonder what makes the colour what it is, "Anjali jest fully called me the VIBGYOR variety," and who was I to take umbrage to that, "damn she could call me anything and get away with it."
Being in an abusive relationship is never easy, and Shweta, wife of one of my friends in Ludhiana had called me up and told me that her husband,"and he was a friend," was an alcoholic, so we had both packed up our bags and caught the fastest train, it took four sweet hours, the conversation was heavy and we made up for time we had missed out on, I was in a philosophical mood when I got out at Ludhiana station. Shweta met us at the station, she had driven from their family home which was about 20 minutes away on the Jalandhar Road. She spoke quietly to Anjali all the way to their home, I was staring at the scenery, Ludhiana is a small town compared to Delhi but it probably has the best environment for commerce in the whole of India. I was thinking of the last time I had been here, which was years back, I had been to "Chaura Bazaar," which means a bazaar with wide roads, "but damn the streets were so narrow that it made difficult to pass. I asked Shweta to stop at a local restaurant and we stopped the car at one of the malls. It was the Omaxe SRK mall, and as I walked in with the ladies, I spoke to them about my last trip till we reached the restaurant.
"How is Arun ?" I asked Shweta, thinking this was the right time to broach the topic.
She waved her hand and continued munching on her sandwich. Both of them had ordered sandwiches and coffee, while I preferred tea and biscuits. The sandwiches were large and it would take time to finish them, I asked for some more sugar for my tea.
"He must be fine." Anjali answered for Shweta and both of them had been gossipping.
"Tea is good right, it always is great here, I come here often. Tea is great for work and coffee is entertainment," Shweta seemed to getting there just by our presence.
Anjali passed me some of her sandwich, "No, I am OK," I said. I wasn't too hungry just thinking about the trip to Ludhiana.
I occurred to me that I was following a ghost from my past, Arun had been a great friend but we had drifted away, partly because of my preoccupation with life and its mysteries and his with money. What I was driving by moving into the past was to emphasis that Arun had been my mirror image till I had been reborn, "strange this term may seem," but one fine day I had woken up to find that I didn't like blue but preferred orange, didn't like butter chicken but preferred vegetarian food. Nobody had told me to do it, but it had happened and now I sat wearing an Orange shirt and Blue Trousers in Ludhiana, thinking about how life had changed over a couple of years. We change but very few people know that we have changed, not our parents and siblings, but a few who really care for us know we have changed. To the rest of them we just portray the same image that they hold in their head.
The point that I was making to Shweta was that there is never a better time to talk then over a cuppa and she seemed uninterested as of now. In fact she seemed a bit irritated, I guess all this logic of mine was making no sense to either of them, they were lost in the beauty of the moment. It was futile I knew to talk right now, but then most things are not black and white, like the colours in the rainbow - Violet, Indigo, Blue, Green, Yellow, Orange and Red, the thing was the rainbow would lose its charm if we figured out how it was formed, it remained where it was because the pot of gold had never been found at the end of it.
"We had a love affair," Shweta spoke up finally and now the love is gone.
"Do you think you are analysing it too much ?" I popped back immediately, "instead of seeing the roses and Lillie's, are you seeing cold logic ?"
"Its gone because you have yielded to cold logic, if I knew how to navigate through Ludhiana, the magic of this 19th century old city would be lost to me. I love it because it still holds mysteries to me."
She seemed to understand and walked up to the flower pot and picked up a flower and put it in her hair. It was an orchid and purple in colour, it looked beautiful perched up there, like the turbans that abounded in the city, royal and regal. Arun had been a sucker for beauty and had seen Shweta as his partner instantly when they had met 10 years ago, however things had obviously soured over the years and though I didn't know it, I knew it was logic that had doomed their relationship, either Shweta's or Arun's. Either ways I knew that there was nothing we could do without pulling Arun into the conversation. We drove to the house having finished a fine dinner at the mall, I knew a drink would be waiting for me, whenever Arun returned home and the talk would begin tomorrow.
Give into rhythm, its the way of life.
Being in an abusive relationship is never easy, and Shweta, wife of one of my friends in Ludhiana had called me up and told me that her husband,"and he was a friend," was an alcoholic, so we had both packed up our bags and caught the fastest train, it took four sweet hours, the conversation was heavy and we made up for time we had missed out on, I was in a philosophical mood when I got out at Ludhiana station. Shweta met us at the station, she had driven from their family home which was about 20 minutes away on the Jalandhar Road. She spoke quietly to Anjali all the way to their home, I was staring at the scenery, Ludhiana is a small town compared to Delhi but it probably has the best environment for commerce in the whole of India. I was thinking of the last time I had been here, which was years back, I had been to "Chaura Bazaar," which means a bazaar with wide roads, "but damn the streets were so narrow that it made difficult to pass. I asked Shweta to stop at a local restaurant and we stopped the car at one of the malls. It was the Omaxe SRK mall, and as I walked in with the ladies, I spoke to them about my last trip till we reached the restaurant.
"How is Arun ?" I asked Shweta, thinking this was the right time to broach the topic.
She waved her hand and continued munching on her sandwich. Both of them had ordered sandwiches and coffee, while I preferred tea and biscuits. The sandwiches were large and it would take time to finish them, I asked for some more sugar for my tea.
"He must be fine." Anjali answered for Shweta and both of them had been gossipping.
"Tea is good right, it always is great here, I come here often. Tea is great for work and coffee is entertainment," Shweta seemed to getting there just by our presence.
Anjali passed me some of her sandwich, "No, I am OK," I said. I wasn't too hungry just thinking about the trip to Ludhiana.
I occurred to me that I was following a ghost from my past, Arun had been a great friend but we had drifted away, partly because of my preoccupation with life and its mysteries and his with money. What I was driving by moving into the past was to emphasis that Arun had been my mirror image till I had been reborn, "strange this term may seem," but one fine day I had woken up to find that I didn't like blue but preferred orange, didn't like butter chicken but preferred vegetarian food. Nobody had told me to do it, but it had happened and now I sat wearing an Orange shirt and Blue Trousers in Ludhiana, thinking about how life had changed over a couple of years. We change but very few people know that we have changed, not our parents and siblings, but a few who really care for us know we have changed. To the rest of them we just portray the same image that they hold in their head.
The point that I was making to Shweta was that there is never a better time to talk then over a cuppa and she seemed uninterested as of now. In fact she seemed a bit irritated, I guess all this logic of mine was making no sense to either of them, they were lost in the beauty of the moment. It was futile I knew to talk right now, but then most things are not black and white, like the colours in the rainbow - Violet, Indigo, Blue, Green, Yellow, Orange and Red, the thing was the rainbow would lose its charm if we figured out how it was formed, it remained where it was because the pot of gold had never been found at the end of it.
"We had a love affair," Shweta spoke up finally and now the love is gone.
"Do you think you are analysing it too much ?" I popped back immediately, "instead of seeing the roses and Lillie's, are you seeing cold logic ?"
"Its gone because you have yielded to cold logic, if I knew how to navigate through Ludhiana, the magic of this 19th century old city would be lost to me. I love it because it still holds mysteries to me."
She seemed to understand and walked up to the flower pot and picked up a flower and put it in her hair. It was an orchid and purple in colour, it looked beautiful perched up there, like the turbans that abounded in the city, royal and regal. Arun had been a sucker for beauty and had seen Shweta as his partner instantly when they had met 10 years ago, however things had obviously soured over the years and though I didn't know it, I knew it was logic that had doomed their relationship, either Shweta's or Arun's. Either ways I knew that there was nothing we could do without pulling Arun into the conversation. We drove to the house having finished a fine dinner at the mall, I knew a drink would be waiting for me, whenever Arun returned home and the talk would begin tomorrow.
Give into rhythm, its the way of life.
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