WAS IT LOVE?

A night of endless hesitations
Perplexing and reassuring both
In some moments
We would come together
Living the years between us
But the fear then would creep in
Reminding us of the void
That had sent us apart
I would often ask
Why it had to go this way
I can’t say about you
But your eyes speak the same
Was it love?
Well, we never spoke about
But I did care
About even smallest things
Life was building
Like a nest so delicate
Yet so vulnerable
That I had left everything else
To weave its wings
I still fly with it
And it was same that night
Expectations?
Well, I never had them
But it really helped
To see you flying as well

©SantoshChaubey

THE COLLECTIBLES THEN – CASSETTE COVERS (VI)

PHOTOGRAPHY

The Collectibles 6

The Collectibles 53

THE COLLECTIBLES THEN – CASSETTE COVERS

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

THE COLLECTIBLES THEN – CASSETTE COVERS (V)

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The Collectibles 46

The Collectibles 47

THE COLLECTIBLES THEN – CASSETTE COVERS

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

THE COLLECTIBLES THEN – CASSETTE COVERS (IV)

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The Collectibles 44

The Collectibles 50

THE COLLECTIBLES THEN – CASSETTE COVERS

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

THE COLLECTIBLES THEN – CASSETTE COVERS (III)

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The Collectibles 8

The Collectibles 3

THE COLLECTIBLES THEN – CASSETTE COVERS

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

THE COLLECTIBLES THEN – CASSETTE COVERS (II)

PHOTOGRAPHY

The Collectibles 5

The Collectibles 38

THE COLLECTIBLES THEN – CASSETTE COVERS

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

THE COLLECTIBLES THEN – CASSETTE COVERS (I)

PHOTOGRAPHY

The Collectibles 2

The Collectibles 33

THE COLLECTIBLES THEN – CASSETTE COVERS

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

THE COLLECTIBLES – THAT PEN

This is my place to reminisce on memories of my life gone so far – picking up some thread, some element, some event, some experience from the days in my past – randomly – as they come – because we all are men of memories.

Here this is about this thing – a pen from my past – that came to my mind while discussing the proposition of ‘letting things go’ in life.

Like many, I, too, had this thing in my school days – collecting pens – and trying to get as soon as possible that new trendy introduction in the stationary shop that would be showcased – like a jewel of the category.

Obviously, there were cost constraints and I had to keep my pocket money into consideration while going for such ‘I must have’ decisions.

This pen – Add Diamond Roller – was recently launched in the market – when I saw it in the shop – in 1990s – when I was in 8th standard. I liked it at the first sight so much that I decided I would have it. But then there was this big problem. The pen was priced at Rs. 99, a considerably big sum for a schoolboy in those days, especially when it was the last week of the month. In fact, I had no money to purchase the pen if I had to manage the remaining days of the month with my pocket money.

But then the impulsive desire to have the pen was so intense that I found myself unable to wait for even a day more.

So, what could be done? So, what did I do?

Simple, and in fact, as I had a reputation of a good son, after a bit of convincing, I got some advance on my next month’s pocket money along with the money required to buy the pen.

The next day, the first thing I did was I rushed to the shop before going to the school to have the pen so that I could show it to others, could brag about it, as well as could feel good about it that I had such an expensive and latest addition to premium pens category in the market.

And for the whole day, I bathed in its glory.

And then it happened – the development that made it a memory worth reminiscing – because of its shock value.

I used to commute from auto-rickshaw in those days. I was very cautious about the pen and had it firmly slipped in my trouser’s pocket while boarding the one to my house. As usual, I was with my ‘feel good’ feelings, instilled with the pen’s possession now.

As soon I reached home, I rushed to show it to everyone there. I slipped my hand in my trouser’s pocket to have it and then I felt it – the shock of lifetime in those days. I had lost the pen somewhere – the pen that I had so cravingly purchased in the morning. It had slipped out of my pocket somewhere, probably in the auto-rickshaw.

At that instant I felt the whole world had come upside down. I felt both dumb and numb. While there were words of empathy, sympathy and even mockery on my loss, I suddenly felt detached from the world around me, and rushed to get some isolation.

Well, I didn’t know anything about ‘letting go’ or so in those days and how could we in that age, when we spend the whole life in convincing ourselves about the idea but it took me many days to get past the shock that I had so suddenly felt from the high pedestal of having the most expensive and elegant pen in the whole classroom. What would my friends and classmates say in the class next day? Certainly, you don’t like words of consolation in those moments.

The memory of this incident comes to revisit me again and again – in different hues – after different developments – but with similar core – even after so many years – because some of us build our life on memories – and I am certainly one of those fools. Yes, it makes me feel better that I have learnt to enjoy them or reconcile with them. That pen could not become part of my collection but its memory stayed – with different slants – in different circumstances.

When I thought to share this today, I was not sure if the pen was still available in the market but a Google search took me to its website that told me it was very much there.

Add Gel

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

THERE..

Sometimes, I look there
To see if it is still there
Well, there is this canvas
I cannot say
But then I never needed it
Still, there is this feeling
That I could be there
That I had to be there
Filling it with colours
I felt comfortable with
Existing in that space
Where there lies a void now
Trying to speak to me
Through the disconnect
That time could not bring
Sometimes, I look there
To see if I can still go there
Bathing me in colours
My soul always longs for
Sometimes, I look there..

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

TRANSCENDING ON SPRING OF OUR SILENCE

When I had seen that in your hands
Just my type was the expression
Breaking the mutual silence between us
That we had so wanted to preserve
Like the purity of words of our promises
Like the sanity of the first time
Like the wisdom folded in your hands
The silence that let us be ourselves
We did speak within the those confines
With the tenderness of your feelings
Singing along in the harmony of souls
The object in your hands was within me
And I loved the way you reciprocated then
Felt like the elusive rain in that summer
Transcending on spring of our silence
I had never thought – if it could be
The worlds within us didn’t need so
But we lived the moment as we would

Life n Its Offshoots-2

TRANSCENDING ON SPRING OF OUR SILENCE

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/