Saturday, January 16, 2016

Writing In A Cafe - A Cliche?

I'm trying hard. Believe me. I'm waiting for inspiration. I've had the coffee. I've put music on. But everything around is either bothering me or seems much more interesting than writing.

The coffee cup tray is intruding into the space where my tab is and now I have precariously balanced it on side. The paper triangle advertising the new menu of the café has fallen down twice and had to be retrieved. Everything is running out of battery. I wish I had sat next to the TV which was showing some nice songs on VH1 instead of three loud guys.

People watching – Ah, is there anything better to do than sit idly and fantasise a life for them. There are three occupied tables in the café. The one furthest from me has two girls chatting away busily. The one facing me is OK looking and so the other must be better. Damn if only I was sitting next to that TV. Double damn.

Another table is occupied by a couple. Unmarried by the looks. Likely to marry and then start fighting in a few months. Ha ha, take that. Still, I envy them for the life that I also had. Free( r) to do stuff, withdraw into a personal space, come back when required. But I also wish them the comfort of a relationship, the strength and the security one draws from it and of course, children. The pride and joy of our lives and the masters of our free time.

The café feels better now although the waiter has kindly put on the overhead lights which are now glaring off my screen. The TV has gone off, the waiter has carried the tray away and Apple products are showing a decent battery life.

The three guys on the table have also piped down. When I came in there were only two and a third friend joined them just then. He is wearing an incredibly irritating attire. Sunglasses propped the back on his shaven head, green shirt with top two buttons open, white veshti. He opens the discussion with the declaration that he is the best husband in the world. His wife is harassing him and is also secretly fighting with his parents. He is ok with her leaving him but wants to keep the kids. Then he takes out money from his pocket and pays off the two guys. Then he starts asking his friends which movie has tickets available. I'm bewildered by the change in topics and this is when the ear plugs go into my ears.

I get a call from a friends and I talk for about 20 minutes. By then almost everyone leaves and new people come in. Two pretty women occupy the table left by the guys. A mom and her son come and go and another mom son combo walks in. The café now feels cozy. A glass walled bright place with music and chatter. If only the coffee was better and the food was healthy. Life ebbs and flows. I too decide to move out but the temptation to stay a bit longer is pulling me. So adios my friends. Maybe we will come across each other in another café. 

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

This Is My Song

This is my song And it’s not like Elton John And definitely not like Code Red Because it is to be rapped Don’t treat it like crap I have a wife To know her is to love her And two boys, two little angels Etched into my heart My family is my core I’m truly blessed And my in laws None better than these When I’m pretty down And fucking fucked out I know where to turn And I do know that My B friends are out and about Can always reach out 36 summers have I walked on this Earth And the moon has done its phases a million But my relationships have become stronger What more can I ask for? Now things seem tough Do the tough really get going when the going gets tough? Sounds like hogwash Can’t remember the last time when they weren’t like this But it’s ok, it’s all right I’ll tough it out, I’ll stand up And when I can’t, willing hands will push me up Willing arms will hold me Someone will soothe, someone will guide Someone will point out the best way forward And every step will be a victory Every step will be a celebration And every step will make me stronger To carry forward the ones who stood by me Know this My heart beats for you

Friday, June 28, 2013

It's Time To Get Back

There was a time,
When I loved to play,
Come rain come shine,
Come exams, come whatever,
I was out there with my friends,
Running around wild

There was a time (in college)
Not selected to dance,
I asked to be included,
Mind you not selected,
Made it through and I enjoyed it
Now it is a blur, marred by time

There was a time,
I wanted to study,
Ha ha you caught me,
I was just playin',
But I thank my parents,
They made me stand on my own two feet,
And my sisters dear,
Guided me through my years,
God bless them all,
My guardian angels

Then came the time,
I got married,
To the most wonderful wife,
And along came our twin boys,
Two bundles of abundant joy,
I am blessed and thankful for my life

Somehow with time,
I was burdened,
Cholesterol, Inertia, Recession and all,
Lots of fears weighing me down,
Day in, day out,
Marking my time,
Alive but living, methinks not all.

It's time to get back,
Time to run and play 
Sing and dance,
Walk in the rain,
Or chill in bed, reading a book,
Fear is but a thought, cant let it hold me still,
Sleep is lovely, but so is life
Come one, come all,
Call everyone else

It's time to get back,
Time to run and play