There she goes ....

"There she goes
There she goes again
Racing through my brain
And I just can't contain,
this feeling that remains"

The road is awash with the early september rain. Morning sun is slanting its rays on brown murky puddles. I and bhagu are immaculately dressed up,resolute we solemnly hang by our father's index fingers. Our hair neatly combed and brushed back. Our faces powdered by the fashion of the day, wet gandh on our foreheads and a dot of black onthe cheeks, taai has made sure that we are dressed for the occasion.I in my favourite dark blue satin T-shirt and bhagu in his yellow.Oil on top of a puddle distracts me and I let go of the finger. It moves like a then-psychedelic color changing amoeba. A breeze makes the water ripple.I forget everything and watch this extravaganza with open mouthed awestruck ecstacy.

I suddenly feel I'm alone and run with all the might. I do not want to be left back. I want to be the first one to hold the bundle of joy. A nurse in white is standing on top of the steps leading to the clinic. We try to look at her but the morning sun shines directly in our eyes. She cracks some joke about not letting us get the baby cos it was never ours in the first place and an eagle/stork dropped it near our mom yesterday and she will anyway take it as my mom has two already. Me and bhagu are just through with daily reading session where the eagle-and-stork-dropped babies grow up and leave their families to search for their royal roots and glory. We do not want that to happen with this baby. My eyes suddenly well up with tears. I jump the nurse, use tooth and nails to scratch and bite,bhagu follows suit. We drag this so far that the look of pride in father's and spent and tired mom's face changes to minor irritation to an explosion of anger which sends us into the grasp of one of his arms and we return home with him balancing two of us on one hand and holding the baby and supporting my mom with another. This balance becomes a feature of us fivesome.We manage to balance and fit everywhere. On a bicycle, in only one machhardaanee, on two tickets in our twice-a-week visits to the nearest theatres, on the same bench on the ferris wheels.

We share things. books, school, classrooms, teachers, scholarships, speakers' dias, speech-scripts. Most of them hand-me-downs. She is the last user and the best. She outshines us two every time.I think; bhagu listens and she works hard.She is the quiet one, the last ugly duckling. But always most liked and appreciated by every body. Parents, relatives and teachers.She is the bottom of the protection-chain. She is the perpetual vamp in our three charactor plays. I'm the self proclaimed king of the kingdom of three. She is my most devoted subject. The look of admiration and devotion remains even when I fall flat on my face and becomes a laughing stock. My word is the final one, I'm the supreme authority on everything. I make mistakes, sometimes behave snotty, selfish, insensitive, brutal. She forgives without asking, understands, controls by suffering. The ownership slowly changes hands.Shw listens to us but we say what she wants. The servant becomes the master through serving.

We spend years together, sharing everything, fighting tooth and nail,understanding and misunderstanding, loving and hating. She is always there on the fringes of thoughts. Calming, influencing, supporting, understanding.

She never suggests but makes changes all the same. She is the spoilsport, the regular sqeaker. Many a adventures reach untimely end because of her in the childhood, many a love stories nipped in the bud in the youth.But she never allows anything to be too wrong or too dangerous. She is normally analytical and timid, but when she dedicates to something she can be as intense as anybody. She learns karate and lathi.We change roles and I become the punching bag. All the throws are practised on me. I, without any formal training know now how to fall, how to escape lathimar even how to grab a female without getting your kneecaps kicked in, eyes punctured, nose bleeding, teeth knocked in.

when you own and are owned so much it is so difficult to part. It is more difficult than tearing away parts of your body. I spend the whole day in the brand new dhoti and turban bought specially for the occasion.Whole day I have been flirting with the camera. But now I cower from the glares of the halogen bulb.I decide not to cry. I have a sinking feeling in my stomach. She is going around touching feet of all her elders. I do not want her to see me cry. It becomes unbearable and uncontrollable. She reaches me,I donot allow her to touch my feet. Mumble something meaningless and nod her on her way on.

She does not go, just wants to steal some more time together. Something breaks within. She tries to console me,her inlaws join her, but my grief knows no bounds. We push their car out for some distance, everybody is alone and so lonely for sometime, maybe lonely for a long time.

There she goes with the pieces from my heart
There she goes and now my teardrops start
And `ere I go once again
Through these lonely heartaches and pain
That`s all remain
all remain
There she goes again
Chasing down my lane
And no-one else can heal my pain
and I just can't contain,
this feeling that remains
There she goes
There she goes
There she goes"

paus

Paus mhanje satat osandun wahanaaraa nikhalpanaa
Maagche pudhche na pahataa anant andharaachyaa gartyaat taklelee udee
Winakaaran pudhe kelelaa madatichaa haat
aanee ugich dolyaat jamaa honaree aasavahee ...

Karnaanee bedarkaarpane udhalelee sampattee
Aaichyaa maayechee paakhar
tudumb dudhaat taaklelee bhargachh saakhar.

Konachee bhid bhaad nathevtaa badaa badaa kosalto tevaa tathaakathit hriday-samratanchyaa bhashanaanee prereet honaaryaa bedarkaar aanee titkyaach bholyaa bhabdyaa tarunaichee aathavan hote ..

Paus kadhee ektaa naahee yet .. Swataa barobar na disnaaryaa dolyaanee aajeenee shivlelyaa godhadeechyaa ubechee aathavan gheun yeto .. Gelele dive aanee ti lawlawnaree kandilaachee nirbal waat .. Utkanthelaa aalelee aste gosht aanee saglejan ekaach godhadeet kase base ghusaayachaa prayatna karit astaat ..

Kuneetaree ugach haalchaal karte aanee mag thand hawaa bhasaa bhasaa aat ghuste. Ardhee pillee aailaa chitakalelee astaat aanee baakee aajeelaa. Aai haluch haataanee baajuchyaa olyaa bhintiwar nirniralyaa janaawaranchyaa sawlyaa padte. Panyache oghal aanee thartharnaaree waat milun tyaa janawaraanaa haaltee kartaat ... Kadhee kadhee gosthichee bhattee jamat naahee. Mag haalchaal wadhte aanee kunitaree ugich thand hawaa aat sodte. Sagalyaancha tilpapad hoto;shevtee kunee taree mast paikee godhadee udwun lawto .. Thoda wel odhaodh hote anee aai aanee aajichee bolnee khane sampeparyant kandil wizlelaa asto.

Mag aajee ekdam thevnee talee gosht kaadhte. Paawsachaa aawaj sobateelaa gheun aajee mast paikee shabdchitre kaadhit aste. Punhaa ekdaa gosht rangaat yete anee itkyaat fatak waajte .. Ekach gondhal hoto, "Baabaa aale,baba aale" .. "Thambayache nahi kaa kuthe??" wagaire

Baabaa tudumb bhijlele astaat, pan ek pishawee matr tyaanee kasheetaree bhijnyaapasun wachawalelee aste. Bachhe mandaleechaa dolaa tevaa pasun pishavee varach asto. Pishavee haluch aaichyaa haataat jaate. bachhe mandaleechee netrapallavi hote, sagalyanchyaa chehryaawar hasu fulalele aste.Baabaa hasu pahataat, kadaacheet te pahanyasathee te samudra wagaire suddha pohle aste.Aajeechee gosht matr ardhyaatach rahun jaate.

Kadhee kadhee ugich athavadaabhar tumbum basto ... Manaat sathalelyaa waishamyasarkhaa .. malabh datun aste ...jashi ratrabhar talamalat thevnaaree thasthasnaaree junee jakham.. ugich wadhat jaanaaraa gairsamaj. Kadhi kadhi to khelto khelto ashee ugach bhitee daakhawnaaryaa Kambli pramaane aathavade aathavade ugaach adkun asto . Haa paus saglyaat wait .. Padat hee naahee aanee jaat hee naahee .. Ugach baapdyaa balirajyachaa Jwarilaa kaajlee laagel ashee nishkaran kaaljee laun thevto

Jeva kosalto teva kadhee asahyya agatiktaa aanee kadhee anaawar unmaad !! Saglyaa junyaa chukaanchee bochnee aanee junyaa jakhamaanchyaa khaplyaa koralyaa jaataat Ugach junee wiraanee aiku yete .. Taree ugach tumbanyaapekshaa te bare ... Ganitachyaa mastaransaarkha to badav badav badavun jaato

Pan te fakt paus sampe paryantach , paus aplaa dho dho padun jaato, je kaahee aadve yeil te dhuwun aanee bhijwun kaadhto ... aanee jasaa aalaa tasaach thambto .. Saglee srishtee thodeshee gondhalaleleech aste thoda wel taree. Mag kuthun taree ekhadyaa limbalaa bhan yete .. Warachyaa zulukeebarobarach to aaplyaa fandyaa fadfadun gheto .. Jasaa kaahee pudhlyaa kshanee aakashaatach udnaar aahe ... Mag halu halu sagle shuddheewar yetaat
Urlesurle pawasache themb tajyaa suryaprakashaat daaginyaansarkhe mirawataat
Divalee dasaryaasaarkhee aakaashachya nilya bhintiwar indradhanuche toran chadhavale jaate aanee srishtee parat aaplyaa dainandinit guntun jaate ...

About a boy ...

What happens when you hold your firstborn close to your heart for the first time ??
You are filled with joy,ecstasy. More than that you are content. Full like a glass filled till its brim.
Not bubbly like a glass of champaigne, frothing and overflowing. Inviting and tempting others.

But a glass of calm water. Pure and transparent. Happy in itself. Content to be left alone with your bundle of joy. Maybe a cocaine junkie may feel so. Or a sufi does so. Maybe they feel different, who knows, who cares after that day??

I was at my best jittery when I used to hold any infant in my arms. Not that I went out of my way to hold them. I mean I like kids and all, but infants look too fragile to me. My relations with them can be summarized in one word: amazement. On both sides: I am amazed at God (Ok, amazed at evolution) and the kid amazed at my nervousness. I used to have two left feet, several uncontrollable hands and used to tie myself in knots all over. It was second biggest miracle of God(after the infant) that I did not drop any of those.

When I saw him first, he was just half a day old. Was resting from the strain of birth, near to his very tired and equally excited mom. She beamed a smile to me and I fell in love all over again, we will talk about that sometime later:) . Breathlessly she reported the baby's progress. He had cried very little, was curios about everything, but not over-excited. Took the surroundings in, made necessary connections and drawn necessary conclusion:"vokey so this lady is tending me and all over me. She must be my mom. Point noted. Who are others. Let's see .. Hmmm .. Nobody very important, at least right now. But let's just flash a smile: just in case.". Here he lets out one of his first smiles. Cheers erupt all around. His granpa and granny are clean-bowled.. "Vokey-dokey. That should keep them on the edge for sometime. I think I need a small nap." Here he goes back to sleep.

This is the time where I enter the scene, maybe after it has repeated many times. Again there is a small commotion in the room. He just majestically lifts one of his eyebrows. "Vokey, so it is not about me." and promptly resumes his slumber. I gloat over him, reach him to hold him when several of them admonish me. I had committed a crime of trying to wake a sleeping infant up. I try to engage myself in conversation with others. But my eyes are riveted on the sleeping beauty. Okey, his face looks like his mom. But you can never tell. Everybody says: he will settle down in a look only after 1 month. Somebody covers him with a small blanket. He wrinkles his nose, tries to kick away the blanket. Blanket being heavy is a little difficult to move. Suddenly he furrows his eyebrows, kicks and punches in all directions uncontrollably. My heart skips a beat: was he using his left leg/hand more? "You can not tell right away": elders go up in unison. Okey, you wait:says me. He is definitely a lefty. Meanwhile after getting rid of the blanket, he has had his small victory and goes back to sleep, both arms raised above his head, a la laughing Buddha.

I take this cue and declare the action as a sign of waking up: Pouncing on him, my right hand goes behind his head-shoulder-neck. Left one supports his tiny buttocks. Nice and easy and he is on my lap. He wiggles and writhes in his sleep, maybe trying to make some sense of this new touch. Any other time this would have given me a heart attack: an infant wiggling in my arms. But I knew I was not meant to drop this one. Not even meant to be worried about causing him any harm. We are going to go a long way, father and son. So many things to do in so many years: Things I did and things I did not do but really wanted to do. Things HE will like to do.

He lets a minuscule smile from one corner of his mouth. Opens his one eye, maybe to check whether it is worth opening the other, opens the other slowly. Tries to focus it on my bent face. Sees me and again smiles his tiny-winy-out-of-the-corner-of-mouth doubt of a smile.

I kept feeling like a damn stupid glass full of water I mentioned before. I can not help it. I can not feel otherwise.