Review of Baaz by Anuja Chahuhan

My Review of #Baaz by#AnujaChauhan

Heads up: Spoilers

I wasn’t sure if the book will keep me hooked, because I feared it will have too much of War and Flighter jet jargon, that I, as a laymen would not be able to comprehend. However, Ms. Chauhan’s narration kept me hooked and how! It kept me up for 2 nights and I also had to spend a restless day. The narration is the Hero of the book.

Two strikingly different people from two different worlds, with different ideologies, chance upon each other. Tinka, the well educated, upper class girl who hails from a celebrated army family, (in)famous for a swimsuit advert and a pacifist by nature, finds love and acceptance where it was least expected; a Haryanvi Jat village boy from Chakkahera with a penchant for adventure and an eye for glory- our Hero, BAAZ. One of the defining moments for me was when Ishaan Faujdaar tells Tehmina Dadyseth that she shouldn’t be ashamed of her ad & that she did nothing wrong. But with their ideologies, it is not your regular love story. And Tehmina Dadyseth is not your regular, “I am here to support the Hero” kind of lead. She has her own story and the narrative of her convictions and conflicts are slick.

Apart from the gripping narration, Ms. Chahuhan’s BAAZ also stands out because, each of her characters are well defined and build the story. They are part of the narrative and not present merely to glorify the lead characters. Each of them individually, has their own story too. The characters are also more real and believable. Juhi and Sneha, for example. Juhi though very fond of Maddy & Baaz, wishes that they find someone good for themselves, but not better than her. Sneha, though admits to liking Tinka, disapproves of her brother’s love for Tinka. The narrative of how Tinka, who hates everything about War, influences the thinking of Baaz, who is a nationalist, is very subtle, natural and not at all forced.

Only one thing let me down and that was how it ends. I personally felt flabbergasted that I was up for 2 nights “for this!” That is how I felt. I personally know many who applaud the ending and feel that Baaz could not have ended better. I for one, would have preferred “another” miracle.

This definitely does not feel like it was written by the same author who wrote “Those pricey Thakur Girls”. Nonetheless, I recommend this for its narration.

Waiting

16 July 2015

Thursday

To make your arms, my home

And the hollow of your neck, my haven

To feel your breath on my forehead,

While my head rests on your shoulder

To inhale the scent that’s unique to you

To feel you in my lungs and breathe you

To kiss you deep and be kissed right back,

With a passion that’s devoid of dignity or grace

To bite you and dig my nails into you,

As your tongue traces me neck down

To writhe under your body

And burn with the desperate desire

of being touched by you,

To feel that fire and be doused in it

Honey ! I am waiting, for you to be home.

I find you

25 July 2015, Sunday

I find you

AM I looking for you everywhere?

AM I searching for you in everything?

For baby, I find you.

I find you..

In everything I see,

In everything I hear,

In everything I feel…

In the pause of a song, in the tune I was humming along

In a phrase, and in a stranger’s gaze,

I find you

In the sound of rain, in pleasure and in pain,

In the smile of a friend, and at the alley’s end,

I find you

In the fragrance of flowers, in the chill of light showers,

In the smell of Petrichor*, and that lame metaphor,

I find you

In the green of leaves, in the sway of trees,

In words and in deeds

I find you.

In the wind that touched my face,

In the fire that sets me ablaze,

I find you.

In rivers and in woods,

In the swing of my many moods,

I find you.

Baby, I find you,

In everything I see, hear and feel.

(PS: Smell of Petrichor is wrong usage, since Petrichor means smell that accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather. Please do forgive me for the wrong usage and call it poetic license. Thank you)

Kissing her Demons

(For a long time, I had wanted to write down the stories that my mind conjures. Usually dark, bordering on bipolar. I have never written fiction and given the lack of confidence in my writing skills, I had thought that I would never. Then oneframestories.com happened, all thanks to Jaykay and I felt that, may be, I could try at short fictions. Then one day this happened. Around 4 months back, one random night, and I typed this in my mobile. Posting it now. 

Wondering why all this "INTRODUCTION"? To cut a long story short, it's an appeal. I am not a writer so please be warned before you subject yourself to this torture *wink wink*) 

Kissing her Demons

Mind wanders and the memory of a night

sneaks it's way through the maze of your mind.

You remember how he held your hands and pulled you towards him. 

You had anticipated this all along but you pretend to be surprised.

You let him think you didn't know this was coming. 

You part your lips. 

As if it were an absent minded and natural reaction to proximity..

But you know it is not. 

It was a calculated and deliberate move to make him move forward. 

You watch his lips. Now dry with wanting. Tempted

He leans and kisses you. You kiss him back. 

He takes your name. You just let out a sigh. 

Kissing gets passionate. More nibbles and bites.

BUT ..

You are not there. You are re-living a memory. 

A memory of someone with similar lips, assaulting yours. 

You think of how disgusted you had felt then.

You wanted to erase that memory. 

So you are creating a new one. ..

With someone who looks similar and has same kind of lips. Thin. And no flesh.

You kiss back with all the passion you are capable of. 

He thinks it's his victory. His victory to make someone so elusive to respond so achingly. 

Poor him...

He doesn't know that you are kissing a demon. 

You are kissing a demon that has haunted you for years..

to make that demon love you and not haunt you 

He just happened to look very similar. That is all. 

The haunting memory is now flushed. You feel victorious.

Then you just kiss out of happiness, because he says he loves it.

#Fiction 

Left unsaid

It had been a long wait

I had been waiting for an eternity for him to come

And then he came

The love we had, the love we felt, was all encompassing

It was so intense that it almost suffocated,

Yet, so pure that it liberated

I wanted to tell him about all those little things I had fantasised about;

I wanted him to know how I felt about those small gestures..

I wanted him to know of all of these things that I had dreamt of,

That I had wanted, for me, for him, for us;

I wanted him to learn of all of it gradually, one at a time

I wanted him to feel each one of those yearnings,

Know it, understand it, feel it and absorb it,

So it became a part of him, as it was a part of me.

I wanted him to know all of this, one at a time.

I wanted to tell him how I had loved the feel of his fingers in my hair,

Even before our paths had crossed

I wanted him to know how I wanted to make his arms my home,

I wanted him to feel how I craved for the warmth of his breath on my neck

I wanted him to realise that the sound of my name on his lips was music to me

I wanted him to see how it burned me to have his lips on mine

I wanted him to feel how I so wanted to burn

I wished for him to know that the only way I wanted to wake up,

was to his sound, smell and taste, and next to him.

I needed him to know that, when we were with friends,

or in a crowd, I loved how our eyes would meet and smile,

I wanted him to know how I loved that we spoke so much through silence,

His arms on my shoulders, his hands holding mine,

A peck on the cheek, our palms entwined,

That kiss on the forehead before goodnight  ,

that curve of a smile in the morning, before kissing me tight

how his eyes twinkled, seeing me just out of bed

how he’d hug me, even before a tear was shed

I wanted him to know how I had waited for all these things for years

I wanted him to know how I loved these things so much that it hurt

I wanted to tell him all this,

I wanted him to know all this,

I wanted him to feel all of this, one at a time

But before I could tell, before he could know,

He had left.

I still have all these things unsaid, at times making it hard to breathe

At times making me want to slash a wrist

Making me want to let the blood flow

To inflict pain physically

To let the hurt go

Now he is gone and all those things I wanted, have turned morose

Wait for me

I am at times loving, Caring and full of warmth
I am at times full of spite when those who I love are hurt
I cry thinking of the people I love and the trials they are facing
I laugh hard at a silly joke cos it was shared by someone I love
I dance dreaming thinking of someone dancing with me
I am happy knowing that someone I love is happy
I smile thinking of the happiness that has been blessed on people I love
I feel smouldered with love by way too many people around
And then suddenly I feel ALONE
Without rhyme or reason. . 
I feel lonely
I feel helpless when I cannot do anything to comfort someone
I feel like there's no purpose
I feel lost
I feel like I am living a lie
I get angry.. 
I won't know why
Then I suddenly miss my mother
I see a father talking to his daughterAnd I feel I was cheated by life
A 1000 small things around me remind me of my mother, 
I feel like killing them all
I remember someone who walked into my life and gave me love 
filled me with confidence & made me forget about what I missed 
so much so that it made me miss my parents a little lesser
Then it hits me that someone walked away. 
Leaving me alone. Cheating me. 
Hurting me for no fault of mine.
That moment, I sink. 
I turn insane. 
I become a different person.
At such times, please bear me. 
Please say you won't abandon me
Wait for me. 
Wait for me because I will come back to my senses 
and be the happy smiling girl you know.

The woman in me needs to cry so that she moves on 
and faces the world with her strong face on
The woman in me needs you to know her as she is.
Hurt, vulnerable yet strong and loving.

Wait for me.I will smile again
Wait for me.I will forget all this bitterness, again.

I forgot what I had to say

What is this obsession with people these days?

Everyone around you is so self obsessed. Screaming at the top of their voice, “I AM AWESOME”

Err, if you really were that awesome, you needn’t have to repeat it so often.

Then there is another bunch of people who are always self-deprecating. Yeah right, belittle yourself so it doesn’t hurt when others criticise you.

Oh wait, maybe I really should not be writing this. I often indulge in this obscene obsession, either calling myself “awesome” or cringing. (Hey, just so you know, when you guys think I am being self deprecating, honestly I am merely stating facts. I wouldn't put myself down if I thought any better of myself). But write, I shall.

(and just like that I lost my train of thought :/ What was it that I wanted to say?)

The little pleasures

The little pleasures !!!

At what age does one stop acting reckless in Love? Or something very similar to Love? 

Vienna (The Magic)

VIENNA.

It is my dream destination. Along with Venice (a place I am fascinated with because it is surrounded by water)

But if I had to pick one place, I’d pick Vienna, Austria.

Most people would pick a place for it appeals to them and if Vienna is their choice, it’d most probably be because it is the “City of Dreams”, “City of Music” and of course, Danube !

But I pick Vienna for a very different reason. My reason is a book. A book by Betty Neels titled “Magic In Vienna” (Oh please give me a break, I had just started high School when I read it and Harlequin romances are allowed at that age). Though the book by itself is not “mind blowing”, I am very emotionally attached to it.

I did not have much time with my parents and I have always wanted to learn things about them. There are a lot of stories about my father that are told even today. His pranks, how he charmed everyone etc and about mother, it’s always;” she was very quiet, loving and read a lot”.  When I started High school, 2 huge gunny sacks were brought down from the attic and given to me.

My mother’s collection of Novels.

I hadn't pegged Amma as someone who enjoyed reading English novels much less M&B / Harlequin. Much to my amazement, there in that stack of wonderful Kannada Novels, were 2 English Novels. One was “Magic In Vienna”. Incidentally, it was also my first English Novel as I had only read Kannada till then.

It was after reading “Magic in Vienna”, that I decided to travel to Vienna and Venice, at least once in this lifetime. I know how I visualized Vienna when I was reading the book. It is illogical but I have this feeling that Amma felt very similar too. Amma would want to visit too but couldn’t because she did not live to.

It might me being desperate to feel her presence but that is how it is. I want to go there and feel the City and then tell Amma, “Look, here we are!” (Please don’t think I am a loony but yes a belief seeped into my mind in my formative years that Amma is with me when I read fictions and is waiting for me to take her to Vienna)

Sigh. I want to go to Vienna for Amma. For myself. For us. To feel that she is still around me and to tell her that “We made it. We are seeing what Cordelia saw when she first landed in Vienna” 

Sadly, the book was lost thanks to my brother who threw a whole lot because they were infested with Carpet Beetles/Cigarrete Beetles and Booklice. I wish I was home to stop him. But then.... 

The midnight ride to an old place!

The smell of the incense from that factory on the way to our old house is still as intense. And so familiar, that it hits you.

The road at this hour with canopy of trees is still as beautiful. The March flowers have overstayed. And they look as inviting as ever.

That house where you once lived was all dark. There was fresh paint but it lacked life.

Someone else lives in "our" house now. The windows that you always wanted to shut, was wide open. The way I liked. Hall Lights were on. The way we never liked.

The dogs haven't decreased in number. Mysteriously, they haven't increased either. They were getting friendly. Strange, we never liked them

The hawker near the auto stand en route the ring road, where we used to frequent for midnight tea was there tonight. I didn't buy. He nodded

Those familiar roads, the doors of the shops, they all seemed happy to see me. They also seemed to question, why alone, where is he?

The ground, yes, that ground where you confessed your betrayal, around the same time as now, but a different night, still looks soulless.

Everything is same. Yet, everything has changed. We were part of it once. What happened to "us" and the "forever" plans !

The lump in my throat. What was that for? Was it for the house, roads, doors, the tea vendor, the dogs, the canopy, the flowers? Or for us?

I went back to the incense factory. To get a whiff. To carry the scent home. You used to smell of it. All the time.

I bought your scent home. 

To live; To Die

Many a lives I have lived in this one Lifetime

This one Life that I call as mine

Have died a thousand deaths; in mere some years
When thousand suns shone; have shed a million tears

How much has fit into this Life?

How much have I lost? What are my gains?
I can still smile, and dance when it rains.

That is all there is. That is all there ever will be.
That is all I need.

To live again. To die again.  

Closure

Meet me there where you left me;
Meet me there, when you need need me.

For I will be there, knowing you will come
You will find me, waiting for you.

and then when you come, I shall bid you good-bye
My love, we do deserve our closure. 

Let me Be

What if I don't want to be with anyone?

What if I didn't feel like meeting anyone?

What if I didn't really care if I end up alone?

I am nauseated by all that love.

I am done with that love which suffocated the relationship.

For now, I just want to be.

So, let me be, may be?

You are constantly asking me to settle down and you call it your concern?

You keep insisting I hook up and tell me that you care?

If you really care, you'd see that I am hurting.

If you are really concerned you'd let me be.

If I am destined to be alone, alone I shall end up.

If I am meant to meet someone, I will, eventually.

For now, please let me mourn my past. I need to.

Please let me be.

Moving On!

So I have finally moved on.

No, by moving on, I do not imply that your thoughts won’t cross my mind.

By moving on, I do not imply that it does not hurt any more.

By moving on, I do not imply that I will forget all about you.

How can I? Those were precious years. There were bitter times too.

But we had too many beautiful moments that outnumber the sour moments.

I was a girl when I met you. With you, I grew to be a woman.

I might still be a little lost, but I also found a part of me that I did not know existed.

With you, I evolved as a person. I believe you grew with me too.

So no, I cannot forget you. Ever.

The fact that there is no “US” anymore will not stop hurting me.

The intensity will eventually reduce.

I know it has.

The wound may heal. The pain will remain.

For I did love you, with all abandon.

Yes. I have moved on.

By moving on, I mean that I have now acknowledged our paths have changed.

By moving on, I mean that I have realized that we won’t grow old together.

By moving on, I mean that I have finally accepted that you and I are not meant to be.

By moving on, I mean that I now admit that there is no “US”.

But I have moved on.

I have moved on because I made my peace with the break-up.

I have moved on because I no longer carry any hope for “US”.

I have moved on because finally I am willing to live a life without you.

Remember? There was time when we thought nothing in the world could separate us?

Remember? You once told me that I will be all right and I will be better?

Yes, my tears wouldn’t stop, and there you were, saying things like:  “One day you’ll stop crying my bear. One day you’ll be happy that I left.

…… . .  .  .    .     .

I have stopped crying.

But am I happy that you left? I still choke up when I am reminiscing our moments together.

That will stay.

But I have stopped crying. I have learnt to live knowing that you are no longer part of my life.

I still find a reason to smile. I laugh. I dance.

I have, moved on.

But I will always love you

B

Ephemeral Serendipity

More often than not, we come across people (some), by CHANCE, without any intent of meeting, without any reason. Yet when we meet them, they change our lives. They touch in a way that leaves you changed from within.

Do I believe in co-incidences? Not too long ago, I'd have said, without batting an eye lid that I DO NOT. But now, I do. I do believe in co-incidences as in serendipity and that there is a purpose for every person to be at such place at such time. May be to make someone realise their true worth, or to make them realise how strong or how weak they are.  And before you even realize it, accidentally some people would have changed the course of your life.

CHANGE IN PERCEPTION

I met one such person, who without even being aware of it, changed the way I looked at my life and changed a lot of my perceptions. I let go of my rigidity in certain aspects and thoughts, all thanks to him. I am no more a moral police, all thanks to him. I do not judge people for the choices they make, all thanks to him. For who knows, maybe I would one day make the same choice. Thanks to these changes, one thing that hurt me the most at one point of time, does not even matter to me any more.

I want to  tell him that IT FEELS AWESOME TO HAVE MET HIM.....but in comparison to what he did to me, without even realizing that he did so, all my words would still fall short.

THANKS G, for empowering me. Yes, I am so glad that our paths crossed and we met accidentally. I am, however not sad that we are not in touch any more. Who knows what limits you’d have pushed, what liberties you (or I) would take. I am just happy that you brought a sea of changes in me.

Serendipity indeed, ephemeral however.

B

 (PS: Images were googled)

A Dead Night (December 19, 2011)

End of day was so swift, that I didn't notice the drift to night.

Night! Oh so young night, so young and so long... Silent night.

In the dead of the night, in the silence of the night, why?? Why do you make so much noise in my head?!!

Memories are like floods, the gates crash and they flow.. So vivid and so cruel!!!

MEMORIES kill .. Memories KILL me !!

Memories of what "has been" and the reality of what "isn't", memories!! They kill me, cut through me like a dagger.

I die each night, every time...

Its DEATH by memories...

By the dawn of "what it ought to be" and "what it isn't" ...

Finding You (2012)

I find you in the first rain drop that touches my face..
I find you in the smile that appeared randomly while I was on my way to work.
I find you in the tear that rolls out of my eye without any warning and without any reason
I find you in someone else's words.
I find you in the laughter of that kid who refuses to let me touch her.
I find you in a tweet, that was retweeted on my timeline.
I find you in the big questioning eyes of the old lady next door, who waits for me to move past her everyday.
I find you in the song that I was played by the RJ on a request made by an unknown face.
I find you, in things around me, in people I am surrounded by.
I find you in music and words.

I find you, in me....

HOLDING ON TO MEMORIES (February 2013)

Was it yesterday that I saw you last or has it been ages? It feels like many lifetime's

Does your arm still feel as warm? How I wish I knew..

Times when my eyes look for you in the thousand faces in the crowd, Times when my eyes know it is you even in a crowd of more than thousand.

The breeze, the smell, the drizzle, the road that we had once taken aimlessly, they all call out . . and no I don't wince, I smile.

The post-its that you left, are all safe. Untouched.

The pen that I stole from your desk, without your knowledge, is still with me. Unused and treasured.

That shirt that smells of you, is still kept hidden in the same place.

The pack box of the coffee mug you gifted, I haven't thrown it. It holds the SIM card that you bought for me which I don't use anymore.

The playful knowing smiles, those little naughty winks, that wanting of standing next to you, the need of being held by you.. the Madness :-)

I hold on to all those beautiful memories, but I cannot let go of the hurtful moments.

When did the love that felt so liberating turn into something as sinister as bondage and as heavy as a burden.

I own you like I own no other thing. Yet, you aren't mine.

The love story of the blue sky and the blue sea, as pure as rain and as vain as the illusion that give them the colour blue.

Let me remember you in the memories that make me smile. Let all the moments that hurt fade away from memory. If only. .