“I have lost it, it’s not in me anymore” I repeated to myself
The outcome of last few days had injected this thought in my mind. I was trying hard but nothing significant was coming out of it. I rolled my palms over my face and looked around for water, a deserted bottle was lying beside my laptop. I took the bottle and opened the cap and put it in my mouth to get what so ever water left in it. There was nothing, I mean, except exact 2 drops. This irked me further. I got up, squeezed the bottle like a lemon and threw it with all muscular power of my body. This didn’t ended here, I closed the laptop and was about to bang it hard on the table but stopped due to sound of “Krsh”.
I looked for the source of the sound .It was sound of glass of a photo frame shattered to bits by the concussion of that squeezed bottle with the photo frame on the wall. I went to pick up the photo frame, it had the picture of ours.
Our picture had brought me back to the conversation between us from where it all got started. We were together, we were happy, we were CONTENT.
And then came the wish.
“Why are you not writing these days?” She asked casually
“I am not getting enough time “I replied
“Moreover, I don’t want to write those boy meets girl type of stories anymore “I added
“But why? They were not bad “She asked again
“Because, I am more mature now, can’t write those childish stories forever “I retorted
“Mature and you “She mocked slyly
There was something cheeky in her eyes, when she said that, as if she caught my bluff.
“Yes, I am mature, much more than you for sure “I snubbed
She was grinning and her laughter was outrageous enough for me to take my PAN Card from my Wallet.
“Yes, I am mature enough, look at my PAN card “
“Don’t show it to others, you are approaching retirement age now “Her laughter was unstoppable now.
By looking at her, this time, even I couldn’t control myself and grinned. It calmed me a bit too. She was correct, I was on the verge of that ideal age, by which we planned to get retired, when we joined this Industry.
“At least write something no!! “She said while fondling my hair.
“On me “She added
“I don’t want to write same types of stories again and again. Now, I can write these stories while sleeping too “I replied
“It’s like a same template which I follow in every story. I want to come out of it “I added
“Then write something else”
The fact was, I tried the same earlier and it was not working, but how could I accept the same in front of her.
“It does not work like this. Creativity needs space, personal time “I said
“Go on “She had expected the way conversion was heading towards. But what she didn’t know was that sometimes, I had surprised myself too with my impulsive and unpredictable nature.
“And since the time you have come in my life, I have lost that personal space. It’s always about us and never about me” And drops started rolling out of her eyes.
But I continued.
“Give me some free time and see, how I come out with something out of the box. But you can’t give it to me, because you need to plan movies, you need to plan shopping, you need to plan anything and everything but always with me” I concluded.
She was sobbing and there was a sense of satisfaction inside me, as if I have won the battle on this discussion once and forever.
After a good 10 minutes of sobbing session, she stood and my eyes followed her, still with the sense of achievement.
“Look, I told you to write, because you like it. I never told you to make a career out of it. You have told me that you feel good while writing and I want to see you happy. That all “She ranted and came out of room and I was like “Did I lose the discussion again?”
But she came back, within a second.
“And about your confidence on writing similar stories “She stopped.
I looked at her like an intimidated deer in front of lion, ok, here it was lioness.
“There is nothing wrong in honing your acquired skill then do nothing and just planning to do something new” She stormed
“Typical Indian mentality “I muttered
“Nothing” I grinned
No one likes these sarcastic responses and especially, when you are in bad mood. She didn’t stop here.
“Look, I am going from here, now I am giving you, your personal space” She announced
“Yes, now there is no “us” time and you could get your personal “ME” time “She added
“Hey, please don’t go. It was not meant like that. I just said it, in spur of moment” I tried to stop her by holding her hand.
“Let me Go, I seriously wanted to give you some free time” She replied calmly while pulling her hand.
“To think about everything, to think about your future, about our future, to think about were our relationship is going towards, “She added
“This is blackmailing. I won’t write due to that “I howled
“Whatever, you think of it “She was on the door now.
“If you go today, I will never write anything on you “I bowled my last armory.
“That, you are not going to write, anyway, because you can’t write anymore. YOU HAVE LOST YOUR MOJO” She said and closed the door on my face.
And to prove the world, that the Mojo was still inside me. I took off from Office, opened all the windows in the house to get a fresh air and fresh ideas, played soulful songs, watched movies, switched off my phone, read articles but nothing worked. I was not able to write anything. I tried to read few books too but it didn’t excite me after few pages.
It was more than a week since she left me and I was still struggling to finalize a subject on which something can be written. I was scrolling the mobile contacts and delving about the idea of saying sorry to her and while thinking about the same, I slept, my another weakness.
The next day, when I woke up. I was clear that either I had lost my mojo or the storyteller in me has to follow the similar path again.
“This is not bad either, Imtiaz Ali, Anurag Kashyap, even Raj Kumar Hirani are repeating the similar way of storytelling in all their movies” I consoled myself.
And I started writing again ……
Few months back there was an article on Buzzfeed which was trending in social media for more than a week. A new terminology was used for a section of people called “The Urban Poor”. They are broke, hungry but always on trend. They spend a majority of their salary (whatever small it is compared to Government Sector these days) to keep up the lifestyle and appearances that they believe are essential to have. They will not eat throughout the day or two for some weekend plans , not because they are on diet but because they can’t afford a normal meal in a good restaurant and EMIs of car, bikes and smart phones have broke them but still they have to pace their life like a Urban “Rich”. A similar sort of party was going on among “Urban Poor” on one weekend. Reluctantly I had to join that party due to one of my friend that day. There were lot of other friends and their friends too were also in the Party. Needless to say, I took a corner. The charms of these types of parties are that mostly single or even few couples get the chance to explorer other possibilities. Mostly you don’t know each other in these types of parties but still if you want to get some connections, you can get it and that is the USP of these type of parties for singles.
After few minutes, I came out of the Party area and waiting outside for my friend. I saw a Girl coming out with a little disinterested look. To make it more personal, let’s call it “My Type of Look”. My prying eyes had followed her in the Party area too. A guy followed her, when she came out of the Party area and I was peeping them secretly.
“Ha, ha ,ha . That’s Great. .It was nice talking to you “The guy said
“C, ya “ Our villain added and waved his hand to show his Casio watch. Girl smiled.
After 2 minutes, our villain took a sharp U turn on his Thunder Bird and came back.
“Are you coming in the next party ?” He asked
“Yes “ She nodded
“By the way, I didn’t ask for your name ?” He asked again
“Hmm…..it’s………Shikha” She replied and Myself and that Guy both noted it in their mind.
Once the villain was out of sight, the hero in me took the center stage. I looked around. There were few couples sitting around, few groups were involved in booze session but she was alone. I came near her.
“Why didn’t you tell him your actual name?” I asked
“What?” She looked at me weirdly.
“I am saying, why didn’t you tell your real name to that guy.” I repeated
“That’s my real name “She replied looking disinterested in the conversation.
“Then, there won’t be a long pause between it’s and Shikha “I smirked
And she smiled this time.
“No need to tell your real name to everyone.” She replied
“He was not interesting either “I replied
“And how did you came to this conclusion? “ She quizzed this time
“Because …. I can read faces “I answered
“Yes, And do you want me to tell you, what are you thinking right now? “ I added
“You want to have a conversation with me “I joked and she laughed. My score 1 and our villain’s score 0.
“Let’s go inside” I took another chance
And we talked for a while. She told me that she loved parties and they had a gang of friends in WhatsApp group named “Party Animals’. The girl was interesting but till the time I didn’t get her name and mobile number, the meeting was not successful for me.
“That guy has searched all the social networking sites for Shikha till now “I said, in process of getting her name.
“Ha ,ha “ She smiled
“But, what’s your real name?” I asked again
“It’s ………………..Shikha…” She replied and laughed again
“See, we were around 30 people here, so basically, If we want to know about each other, that we can get with little effort” She added.
I failed this time, but I always had one last armory left.
“Ok. I need to leave now.” I said
“Let me book OLA’ I said
We came out, I checked the app. Mini was at 2 minutes distance, Micro was at 3 minutes distance and surprisingly Prime was at 8 minutes of distance and with Surge Price.
I ogled at her, to check if she was looking at my screen and booked a Prime. I got additional time to talk to her.
“Ola will be arriving in few minutes and you didn’t tell me your name yet “ I almost pleaded this time
“We could meet in the next party anyway” She answered
“I rarely attend these parties” I replied sadly but still she didn’t say anything
“That is a weird habit in Girls, they never believes in Boolean.There is no either and or, yes or no situation for them, they always have a middle path in between both the two options.” I thought
“Shit “I said , while calling the Ola Driver
“What happen ?” She asked
“Low Balance, I am not able to make a call “ I replied with hesitation
“No problem, Take my phone “ She said
“Are You sure ?”
I took her phone and call the driver.
“What happened “ She asked once I returned her the phone.
“There is some problem is his car “ I said
“So, what will you do now? “ She asked
“I told him to take time, I can easily wait “ I grinned and she blushed. We talked till OLA had arrived and I left.
For people like our villain, that was end of story, atleast till the next party but my story started from that place.
I went inside the Cab and Cab started.
“Can you please give me your mobile on which you received the call from me?” I asked
The next plan of action was on “True Caller “ .
After reaching home, I called on the number . It was late night.
“Hello” Someone a little dazed received the call from other side
“Who is this ?” She questioned
“Party Animal for you “ I replied and she laughed
“So you got my number from your friend circle in the Party “She asked
“Is Ola driver your friend , Miss…….“ then I called her with her actual name
“And how did you get my name “ She quizzed again
“I have the Almighty TRUE CALLER” I replied
“But, I will call you Shikha only “I said
We continued conversation for few minutes, till I got to know another feature of my phone, that it gets disconnected after 180 minutes.
But that conversation ended in such a note that afer that day, we never went to the Party again .
We used that time to know each other better.
I was exhausted. I took my mobile again, looked at her picture and sent her a text.
“I tried, but “me” time is not possible anymore. Because there is no “I’ left without “U’, it’s “we” only. Let’s have some “us” time. Sorry Shikha!!”.