Search This Blog

Wednesday, 31 December 2014

Thank you, 2014. :)

The year of 2014 came as a dream to me. Whatever happened in this year, would always be remembered by me for the rest of my life. This year was very significant to bring me even closer to my real dream of being a writer. Well, he who writes is a writer but to be honest, I want to be a writer who makes an impact in bringing peace to this society. I really wish to be that person, who can bring a smile to each person who gets to read my work. A writer who doesn't make anyone cry and be hurt all the way. Yes, I write on grief too, but I am optimistic and believe everyone should be so.

Having said this, I would agree that the past year in a way presented a different person out of me to everyone whom I have known. I have hurt people in this year and sometimes, I feel I won't be able to win back their love ever again. It makes me sad, but as it's gone by, I can't do much about it. All that I can do is, to not repeat the mistakes I have made this year in understanding people. I have grown up as an individual and I can feel how important my life is. In this world where terrorists have at one hand threatened world peace, I wish to be that one bird who brings water to dampen the fire in a building. This little effort, can make great results and that is what I am precisely looking forward to. In all of my writings, I have never tried in anyway to threaten peace or to hurt someone. Lately, I have expressed my political views as well as my views over certain issues, for instance, Delhi University's roll back of its Four Year Undergraduate Program, including my views on one of my favourite writer.  I believe everyone has a right to express one's thoughts. I am not misleading as people felt so, because I know that people know what is right or wrong for them. I didn't influence them, by expressing my views and concerns on different issues. I respect everyone's views, and feel that everyone should be given a chance to express themselves.

I have been trying to make this blog a place, which relieves you from the worldly tensions. I wish to tell you dear reader, that your thoughts and opinions mark greater importance for the betterment of this blog. If you find, something misleading or inappropriate then you can bring it to my notice. The blog name Artist Address looks forward to share your works of art if you want to share them. It's up to you, on how you believe in your art or anyone's art that can make this world a better place to live in. Simply by spreading love in every nook and cranny of this world. So that hatred dissolves to become love and friendship. With this belief, this blog works.

Wish you, a very 'Happy New Year 2015'. Make it memorable, and enjoy every bit of it.
Here, I am sharing few blog addresses which will surely bring a smile on your face, when you read through these blogs. I have come to know these blogs, in these last few days. They are as follows;
and KASAK, on Artist Address.

Thank you for your love and support.

Gagandeep Singh Vaid

Nobody's worth living for..! Ending. (Written by Kasak)

                                                  About the writer!

The writer known by a pen name, Kasak is a fitness freak, who does modelling and in his words, he is someone who, "emphasises on all experiences in life". He likes to travel and it is music that keeps him motivated. 


 Nobody's worth living for!

For, part-1 visit the link,
For, part-2 visit the link,

For, part-3 visit the link,

For, part-4 visit the link,

Part-5 :

Nobody's worth living for!

“Done with your packing?” Simar asks.
“Simar I didn’t get any luggage! Remember? I have a guitar, one shirt and three Tees that I bought. I’ll stuff them somewhere in this bag. Chill!” I say.
“Fine! You have your train ticket with you na? I have made some salami sandwiches for you. Don’t eat the food they serve you in the train. It’s gross! And call me as soon as you reach. And you better focus on your work now. Don’t drink on the way okay!” She says.
“Okay Mummy! Now relax. I’ll be alright. Looks like you’re going to miss me?”
“NO! Not at all! You were such a nuisance here. I mean, just look at the house now! It looks like a rat’s den. Smells of cigarettes and nothing is in place. You are going to give me a hard time clearing all this mess!”
“Hmm. At least you will be thinking of me in your curses and swear words!”
“Fool! I am going to miss you. Can’t you bloody see how much I have been sinking since morning? That is why you are so awkward when it comes to handling women. Stupid!” She says as her eyes well up.
“Hey! Sweetheart! Please don’t cry! I am going to miss you too.” I say and give her a tight hug.
“Don’t go na please! I have grown so fond of having you around. Who will help me cook pasta? Who will drink wine and barge on to ‘Malabari Parathas’ with me at 3 in the night? Who will have intellectual conversations about love with me in the random-est of places? Who will be waiting for me when I get back home late from work? This little house is going to miss you!” She sobs and hugs me back.
“I love you Simar! Let’s get married.” I wink at her.
“Shut up! Fool. Spare me please! Out of a billion people YOU! I mean eww.” She laughs.
“That was very rude! Anyway I’ll take leave. Bye Simar!” I say and sit into the auto-rickshaw.
“Bandra Terminous bhaiya!” The vehicle starts.
“Rishit! Listen. What about the answers you were seeking? Had any luck with them?” She asks.
“They are somewhere around, very close to me. I just have to be aware and open to realize them.” I say, feeling the ‘mysterious healer’ speaking through me.
Simar fakes a grin. The kind you give when you don’t understand anything the other person said. I wave at her until she diminishes along the distance completely.

The train is vibrating worse than Nokia 2230 in its prime, if not worse (Pun-intended). My chain of thoughts is interrupted by soft pat on my shoulder.
“Bhaiya wow! You know how to play the violin?” A small boy, not over ten, comes over to my seat, fiddling with my guitar kept beside the train table.
His mother, sitting on the opposite seat looks at me with an embarrassed expression. I reassure her with a smile.
“No champ! This is not a violin. It’s a guitar!” I say. He raises his eyebrows.
“Same thing bhaiya!” He grins wide.
“Haha! Sure! What’s your name champ?” I ask.
“Myself Vijay, bhaiya! Can you play a song for me please?”
“Okay Vijay bhaiya! Which song should I play for you?”
I play a mash-up of his favourite songs and all the passengers sitting in the same berth cabin join me with their distinguished vocals. He looks overjoyed. He is shy but his mother insists him to thank me with a kiss on my cheeks. The smile on the little boy’s face gives me a unique euphoria that any other stimulant or tranquilizer would fail to do so. After all, its moments like these that make your life feel less of a burden.
“Beta, you sing very well!” The little boy’s mother says.
“Thank you aunty!”
“What do you do for a living, beta?”
“Music! I am an artist. I am in talks with the producers in Mumbai for a solo album of mine!”
“Mummy! Even I want to be a singer like bhaiya! He is so good!”
“No Vijay! You will study very hard and you will do music as a hobby.” She says and gives me the naïve-children-and-their-useless-wishes expression.
This reminds me of my tough times with my family. I am not infuriated and not at all up for retaliation or debate with the child’s mother. But an inner voice suggests that I must express myself now. My control, for a precise moment, ebbs away from me. The words force themselves out.
“Vijay come here!” I command. He obliges and comes and sit on my lap.
“Now listen to me very carefully! Always do what you really want to do okay? Remember that your teachers, parents and friends are going to tell you many things. They might tell you that you can do what you love as a hobby. Don’t listen to them. Do it with all your heart and be the best at it!”
“Yes bhaiya!”
I feel my emotions’ draining themselves out, just like accumulated water flows in abundance from a canal. The child’s mother looks at me in the eye, giving an angry smirk, as if I am trying to misguide her child. But I feel as if I am being used as a medium and the words coming out are coming from the deepest corners of my heart. Shocked but curious, I continue talking.

“Let me tell you this from experience! Real happiness comes from living for you. I took ample time to figure this out for myself. Yes surely, being empathic and concerned towards your people and surroundings is vital. But if you don’t live a life which you always desire to live, you will be miserable and full of remorse. If there is anyone worth living for….it’s YOU. It’s for your dreams, your aspirations and your desires. Only when you love what you’re doing and trust yourself with your choices, you can be in peace with yourself.” I explain, more to myself.
The sparkle in the boy’s eye suggests that I have accomplished my feat. I experience a unique void where in I am fully free and extremely light. All the weight has been removed of my shoulders. I experience my subtle ‘Eureka’ moment. After looking everywhere and talking to numerous people, I found my answer within myself. Suddenly my soul feels unrestricted and unlimited.
The child’s mother fakes a grin, clearly not convinced by my words and asks the little boy to sleep. I wish him goodnight and head outside and stand beside the berth door. A sense of nostalgia gives me jitters all over my body. Twenty days back, I was here, standing at a similar train door, bruised and broken, staring into the fast moving scenery.
I feel the bruise on my lower lip, it has almost healed. I check my phone contacts, reminiscing the various rendezvoused I had during my stay in the city of dreams. The ever smiling auto -wallah, who was an awesome companion on that lonely night besides the wine. Shanaya! her number being saved  as ‘Miss Society’. I giggle a little to myself and delete her number. Then the awesome guitarist who was lucky to find unconditional love for the second time and became my reason for reassurance. Lastly, the ‘mysterious’ reiki healer who became an unexpected assistance in the quest for my answers, which I had now found and was content.
Finally Shivani. She no longer hinders my appearance with remorse or aggression. I feel at peace by loving her wholeheartedly while we lasted and now letting her go doesn’t feel like a daunting task anymore. She was a difficult past which I braved through. Honestly, I say that with pride! My future was now calling me and it was time to shoot towards my dreams. I had MYSELF to live for now! I’d better do it to my best.
My phone rings, breaking my spree of beautiful thoughts.
“Hello Rishit sir! It’s Sachin from Hard Rock café, Saket. I have been trying your number since eternity. Where have you been? Is your performance on tomorrow? No last minute cancellations sir. Please! I’ll be fired!”
“Relax man! The show is on. Needed some recreation lately. I am back now!”. I say and disconnect the call.
For, Artist Address

Story of likeness and trust! Chapter- 21


I woke up and it was daylight already kissing the walls of my room. I had slept through the night as a little child. Hugging myself with my arms grabbing my chest. It was cold in Delhi, the temperatures had dipped past Shimla, Mussorie; the hill stations where people go to witness cold. This time, Shimla and Mussorie had thought it better to visit these people. How sweet, isn't it? Yet, harsh I feel. For the people out there on the pavements and roadsides, in this biting cold.

There was a smile on my face as I realised a blanket had been on me. I was certain, my father must have done that. He wasn't sweet always, but like me; he too was emotional. He must have been in guilt for the way he treated me the previous day. I searched the house but my mother wasn't there. I understood that, she would have gone to visit her brother, who wasn't keeping too well those days. As I went up to pick the morning newspaper that I saw was placed on the dining table, my eyes met my father's sight. He was in the drawing room, alone. I sat there, read newspaper; scrolled through the pages, and very curiously started reading one article. I had bowed a hello to my dad and he had replied in similar tones to me. In no time, he asked me what article I was so much engrossed in? 

"Pa, it's the entertainment section of the paper. You know Bryan Adams, right? He's touring India in January. The dates are 14th, 15th and 17th. First he will come to Delhi, and later Mumbai. The venue in Delhi is, The Talkatora Stadium." My face just glittered, and he kept on staring at me. I soon left him alone in the drawing room to prepare for my first day at work, in the new company. I polished my shoes, wore a tie and I could feel a lot of power in myself. That day was just auspicious. I thought, a good start of the day would take the spirits forward. 

My motorbike, Bajaj Pulsar 150 CC, was the perfect companion to me in all my journeys. Soon I left for my office. As I entered the office premises, the security guard saluted me. It felt as if, my lost pride was back once again. Like, I said; a perfect start to the day, would make the events roll by in the similar fashion. So, the cycle of events continued to roll. My manager, gave me a good insight into the company and how they worked. They were happy with me, and so was I. A new place, was all I was waiting for. Also, in this company the working hours were lesser. This made me more than satisfied yet again. This had meant that I could return back home earlier and continue practicing newer songs and tones on my guitar. The thought of music gave me merriment and gave me an edge over the sad thoughts of the previous days. I was better off, in style and in confidence; because I knew from this very point I were to rise. I had known my road. I had to practice, I had to regain my lost wisdom in my art. I wanted it all to come back to me. Someone has well said this, that when you give love to your art, it returns that love to you.  The love, either in the form of sensational, mellifluent songs, for a musician or as a painting to remember for lifetime for a painter. Art had its magic, it took the heart away. Same had my art done to me. 

That day, turned out to be really good. Realisation made it all for me, realisation of my love for my art. All memories, attached with my art had consumed me, all the while. Life was a blessing, I thought and continued to practice and love my art.

To be continued--
Next in, 
(Chapter- 22) At,
Time: 8:00 A.M.
Date: 01/01/2015

Happy New Year! :) 
From, Artist Address in advance :) 

Tuesday, 30 December 2014

Life without colours

Life without colours,
was like love without roses.
Dreams without a motive,
Heart without feelings.

Human spirit was what,
gave reasons to people,
to smile and brighten,
their day with hue as affable,
and gentle as the kiss,
of the growing sun every morning,
towards afternoon, to dusk,
and then to let stars dine.
If you wait once and see,
then all this seems like,
a painting. As if an Artist,
named God, had come to draw,
with his kit of colours.

Yet, reasons enough to cherish,
formed for people. They worked,
they ate, they made memories,
with friends. They slept, they woke,
towards a newer day. A hope, 
a dream, a magic they had,
to spring to their lives.
It was all mark of love, 
they had in their lives.
They smiled, they laughed,
fell in pitfalls and stood up.
Went through difficult situations, 
and were still willful to live.
It was a life, so much beautified,
with human spirit. 

Every colour had its significance,
Be it dampness or glory,
they were experiences to tally,
in this life that was a blessing.

Life without colours,
wouldn't have been.
If it was there,
then it wasn't life,
in its real meaning.

Gagandeep Singh Vaid

Story of likeness and trust! Chapter-20


I found a new job one of those days, but it was not as good as the earlier one. Still, I was happy and content with what I got. I knew where my dream was, and what belonged to me! I was in a good mood that day, because I had a new company to work in after all those interviews I gave. The working conditions were not bad either, but the basic salary was less in comparison to what my previous company had paid me. Overall, if anyone was to see then it was a fall for me. As most people changed jobs when they found a better one, that made them move up the ladder of success in their respective fields; I had changed one, firstly because I had lost my previous job, secondly, I had no other option. As simple as that. Moreover, it didn't quite disturb me; I knew what belonged to me! Also, it wasn't purely my field, that to fall aback would hurt me. I had heard my heart and yes, my heart ruled my mind those days.

On my way back home, I entered a general store and got few packets of cookies, chocolates for my mother and for the children who would visit our home; mostly my younger cousins. I had felt satisfied, yes like I said; I was happy and content. I had thought of my parents. How relieved they would be, to know that I was no longer jobless. Smile embodied its grace on my face and I opened the gate of my house. I rang the doorbell and my father's eyes met mine. He was looking deep into my eyes, and I could sense what his eyes asked from me. "Pa, I got a job. It's in the Fredrick and Co. , it's the same job profile. I'm happy, that in this Economic Climate, I have got a secured place." As soon as I used the word secure, I knew that my father was not convinced. The expression on his face said it all, and I paused. When I told him my salary, he was in all rage upon me. As if, I had committed a crime. I had never wanted to see him in wrath like that, but my eyes couldn't respond any longer in normal gaze. My eyes welled up once again. Like it had become a ritual to me. I never knew, how many times had tears lined in the past months, moving down my cheeks. I wasn't strong emotionally. The whole world had moved beneath my feat, as my dad left me alone at the door. With the same mood of melancholy that took over the hopeful smile as I entered my house, I stepped into my room and laid on the bed. I hadn't changed my formal clothes that day. I seeked some moments of silence and closed my eyes and slept, I don't know when it came. Even the cookies I brought for my mother remained in the bag, unaware of where she was that time, that day.

To be continued--
Next in, 
(Chapter- 21) At,
Time: 8:00 A.M.
Date: 31/12/2014

Monday, 29 December 2014

Nobody's worth living for! Part-4, by Kasak!

                                                  About the writer!

The writer known by a pen name, Kasak is a fitness freak, who does modelling and in his words, he is someone who, "emphasises on all experiences in life". He likes to travel and it is music that keeps him motivated. 


 Nobody's worth living for!

For, part-1 visit the link,
For, part-2 visit the link,

For, part-3 visit the link,
Nobody's worth living for! Part-4

It is Diwali, the festival of celebration and joy. The beautiful city boasts of a phenomenal display of Pomp and Show. People are enjoying fireworks, sweets, card games and what not. Simar is working till late to meet her deadline and Rishit is alone at her condo, getting a good view of the city from the nineteenth floor. He briefly thinks about Shivani and feels sunk in his chest. He lights up a cigarette. It has been two weeks since Rishit has been in Mumbai and he doesn’t want to go back at all. But inevitably, he has to. Commitments, gig schedules and predominantly, life awaits him. He knows that his escape cannot last forever. In the end, Reality takes over.
“Happy Diwali Mr. Rockstar! Wait what the hell! You are smoking again? This is just ridiculous!” says Simar, wonderfully dressed in Indian attire.
“Come here! Happy Diwali sweetheart!” Rishit gives a long bear hug to her.
“Idiot! You almost crushed me to pieces. Anyway, let’s celebrate now?”
“Oh really? I have been waiting for you since eternity madam. All you MNC people are charged with reasons for being late. Look at the time! It’s almost 12 AM, the day is almost over! Where do you intend to party now?”
“MNC people! That is one good tagline. Hahahaha! By the way, Shanaya thought you were a douchebag! Just letting you know for your information!” Simar says and bursts out laughing.
“I warned you beforehand!” Rishit smiles and winks at her. He wonders that the definition of the word ‘douchebag’ differs between individuals, because that is exactly what he thought about Shanaya too.
“Get moving! And throw away that cigarette or I’ll shove it up your ass!”
“Fine! Where are we heading?”
“Oh don’t worry. You’ll know that in a while. You may have been a ‘Mumbaikar’ to start with but I am one by heart!”
“Yeah right”

Simar drives Rishit to Bandstand, the seaside extension of Bandra. The suburb boasts of mansion like film star houses, all sea facing. Crowds gather around each house just to catch one glimpse of their favourite movie star and when occasionally they see them, they would be struck with ‘euphorilyptic fits’ (a new addition to the English dictionary, oxford take note!). Today was no different. All mansions were beautifully lit up and people celebrated around the area in their own contradicting ways. Some were entranced by the display of fireworks, while others clicked selfies and enjoyed group discussions. Rishit and Simar decided to walk around the long stretch and enjoy their favourite ‘cycle coffee’ (Coffee sold by bicycle vendors across the city, usually during wee hours of the night).
“See that is Mannat. ShahRukh’s house! Look at the crowd standing outside, it’s crazy!” says Simar, pointing towards a huge illuminated mansion.
“Simar! I know that. I have spent the first decade of my life here, in case you forgot.” Rishit says with a straight face.
“Okay! Okay! Chill.”
A sweet melody falls on Rishit’s ears as they walk around the sea pavement. Coming closer to the wonderful sound of the melody, Rishit sees the back of a frail person facing the sea who is tuning his guitar. He starts playing and Rishit signals Simar to stop for a while. The melody has a magnetic effect on him, which makes him want to go closer to examine the hands that play it, making it seem like a  child’s play. The guitarist’s gifted voice complements the instrument phenomenally and more heads turn towards him as he starts singing.
“I have seen this guy here before!” says Simar.
“Really? He sounds so good! I think he is even better than me. Look at him; he is so engrossed in his song. Who is he?”
“Yes, on a few occasions! When I am here at night with friends around the same time, he is always here sitting on this fixed place of his. He sings for a while and then disappears. I wonder why he doesn’t pursue music professionally. I think you should give him some tips!”
“Sure! If not that, I at least want to let him know that he is really good!”
“You see the eunuch there, sitting right beside him?” Simar says, pointing towards the seating area alongside the pavement.
“That is his girlfriend! Or at least that is what people jokingly say. She is always present with him when he sings!”
Rishit waits for the guy to finish his song and then goes and sits right beside him.
“Dude! You are really awesome. Hasn’t anyone told you this before! Are you a professional? If not please consider music as a career. Trust me, you have a bright future!” Rishit blurts out in excitement.
“Thanks man! Do you sing as well?” He replies with a smile.
“Yes! As a hobby I do, sometimes!” Rishit lies.
“So what are you waiting for? Let’s jam!”
His fingers touch the strings and vibrations which come out are magical. Rishit and the guy make a personal mash-up of songs and a huge crowd gathers around to be a part of the musical quest. Some click pictures, some sing along and everybody seems to be enjoying. Simar is making a video recording of their mini-concert. A couple requests them for a romantic number which they oblige them with. All the love birds hold their hands watching the duo in awe. They sing till they drop and acknowledge the crowd with a formal bow. Then they sit by the pavement for a smoke, facing the sea.
“Dude you aren’t just a ‘hobby’ singer. You are way more professional than that! I sense something fishy. Anyway, Ultra-mild?” The guy says, carefully keeping his guitar into its cover bag.
They talk music for a while.
“Dude I know I sound paranoid but I am telling you this again, our country craves talented musicians like you! Consider a career in the industry. Start by making a personal Youtube channel or do whatever, but at least make people aware of your existence. You are a star man, trust me!” Rishit emphasizes his words and looks deep into the eyes of the guy.
“That is really flattering and kind of you man but music for me isn’t about getting acknowledged for my art, it’s different!” The guy says and smiles. His smile is very cute and carefree, just the one you would see on a five year olds face.
“Then what is it about?”
“It’s about her!”
Rishit is stunned. This is where things get interesting. He wants to hold back but gives in to the temptation of asking the guy of his personal sob story. Who knows? He might find his answer here.
“Tanya and I had been together since school. It was a seven year long relationship. She was the one who introduced me to music in the first place. I promised her that I will excel at it and would never quit, because she thought I was meant for it. This is the place we used to come to often and I sang for her until night subsided and day broke. This is also the place where I proposed her for marriage two years back.”
“So what happened then? I mean your words suggest that things are pretty good!”
“Yes things were good until she was here.”
“Was? What does that mean? Did you guys break up? You guys are still together right?”
“No brother! A car accident took her away from me just a few days after she accepted my proposal. Following that day, I come here at every chance I get and sense her presence. She kisses me through the breeze and her caress makes me want to sing for her until my last breath. This is what music is for me!”
“I am really sorry for your loss man!” Rishit is out of legitimate words for the occasion.
“Don’t be! You still haven’t heard my complete story. I never told you how much of a support Pyaari has been for me.” The guy points at the eunuch, sitting at the same spot and looking at him with admiration. Their eyes meet and they look at each other for a while. The eunuch playfully signals to him to go back to his conversation with Rishit.
“Pyaari has always been a pillar of support that helped me through endless painful moments. She has been a friend, guide and a house of encouragement. Honestly, if she wouldn’t have persuaded, I would have quit music a long time back!”
“Yes! Don’t get offended man but your words suggest that she loves you!” Rishit says.
“Yes she does and that is why I am concerned. This has been eating me up for quite a while. I don’t know how to reciprocate to her feelings.”
“Is it because she is a eunuch?” Rishit immediately regrets his words.
“No brother! I believe in love beyond physical appearances and societal constraints. Loving somebody with pre-conceived notions and prejudices isn’t really my thing. But I fear being disloyal to Tanya! I mean I have lived all of myself for her and even though she is gone now, I feel accountable with my choices to her!”
“So what does Pyaari have to say about this?”
“She says that she loves me unconditionally. Even if I don’t reciprocate her feelings, she will continue loving me. She has proved that by being there for me every time I need her. It is because of her that I continue living in peace. I can’t really imagine my life without her now.”
“It is evident that you love her too. Life has been kind enough to give you a second chance; you must not let it go friend.” Rishit gets up to leave and Simar gestures him to wait until she gets the car.
“Hmm” The guy looks confused.
“Okay, answer this for me! Who are you living for? Say the first thing that comes to your mind!”
“I don’t know man. This is a difficult one to crack but one thing is sure, I have desired pure and unadulterated love to be present in my life, always.”
“There you go man, you said it! I hope you’ve understood what you ought to do now!”
“B..But what about Tanya?” The guy seeks reassurance in Rishit’s eyes.
“In order to make new stories, old ones must end. Think about it.” Rishit is amazed of the words that just came out of his mouth. They sound very unlikely him. Startled, he takes leave.
Through the car’s window, Rishit catches a brief glimpse of the guy and deep embrace with eunuch. He feels immense joy by helping the guy make his right desired choice. If only he could help himself with his answers. He smiles at Simar, who is now driving. Pyaari! That was one hilarious name!

Its early morning and the sun’s warmth is feeble due to the last night’s unexpected shower. The weather is a fine blend of sunny and overcast. The presence of the cool morning sea breeze is almost mystifying, striking a perfect balance and what would happen next is hard to predict. Rishit has just booked his Tatkal train ticket back home and it’s his last day in his beloved city. He takes a cab to marine drive out of impulse, like he is being controlled by the some unknown force. He feels immense desire to be at the place one last time. The cab drops him at Nariman Point and he goes and sits by the reclaimed rocky surface, right where the city meets its end and infinity begins at Arabian Sea. He can spot two love-bird couples at a distance, looking at him briefly then returning to their privacy. He smiles and looks into the depths of the sea, which is a little rough due to the strong breeze.
He is alone, but his mind is wandering. Thinking about the past, Shivani,  his unexpected arrival in Mumbai, prior music commitments, his almost broke condition and now reluctance to go back. If given a choice, he would prefer alcohol induced thoughtlessness over the current upheaval ripping his mind apart. He closes his eyes and focuses on the sound of the wind, which is getting stronger. Now, it is almost certain that it’ll rain. His eyes briefly meet a radiant beautiful face, who is sitting at a small distance on his right. He looks at her intently. Dressed in a long white robe and precious stones tied all over her body, she looks mystic. She seems thirty, if not less. Rishit feels a strange urge to go and talk to her but doesn’t quite know which of his outdated pick-up lines would suit the occasion. She catches him looking at her and breaks into a little giggle.
“Hey! You can join me if you like!” She says with a smile on her face.
“Sure. How about sharing a cycle coffee together?” Rishit says, pointing to the vendor standing at a distance.
“Sounds good!  I don’t usually drink coffee but today the weather is perfect!”
Rishit goes to the vendor and returns with two small thermocol coffee glasses. He hands her one glass, gestures her a brief ‘cheers!’ and takes his first sip.
“So, you randomly turned up so early at this place?” Rishit asks, trying to break the ice.
“This is place looks most beautiful in the mornings. Most people don’t know that. The positive vibes you get from this place early morning are intriguingly amazing. Plus obviously, there are less people.” She says blowing into her glass, then taking her first sip.
“Sure the place looks amazing! You come here often?” He looks at her distinguished demeanor and examines it intently. She feels evolved. “She must be an astrologer or something” he wonders to himself.
“Not really! But today the divine wants me to be present here and be with you.”
“Ahaan! So you came here for me?” Rishit playfully asks.
“Yes.” She takes a long pause. “I came exclusively for you ‘Rishit’”. She winks at him.
“Woah! What? How do you know my name?” Rishit is mind blown.
“I know everything divine wants me to know.”
“I think I should leave. This is strange.” Rishit gets up.
“Hahahahaha!”  The woman bursts into laughter. Rishit feels scared.
“You’re laughing? Wait, are you human? Shit! Are you a Ghost? I doubted that first because of the number of stones you have on your body?”
“That’s so rude Rishit!” Her expression drops. Can’t I play a little prank on you? Stop overreacting okay! You have a Youtube channel which gets you more than a million views. You should know that you are popular here too. God, you are so stupid!” The woman gives him an angry smirk.
“Oh! I am so sorry. I am indeed, very stupid. Shit! But what about these stones you’re wearing?”
“I am a Reiki practitioner. I heal people off their negative energies.”
“Wow! That is why you were talking so much ‘divine’ stuff!”
“Hahaha! Yes! That’s the thing with us healers. Words like soul, divine, angels, vibes, light etc become a part of our verbal vocabulary.” She smiles, feeling the strong wind caressing her long hair and brushing through her beautiful eyelids.
“You’re beautiful!” Rishit observes her features intently.
“Thanks!” She blushes like a teenage anime girl.
“I need your guidance on something?”
“I know what you want to say. That’s precisely why I am here. We have a lot to untangle.”
“Really? There is something strange here. You know a lot about me and I’m sure Youtube can’t tell you all that! How?”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“Go on, I am listening” Rishit smirks.
“What if I tell you that your sudden trip to Mumbai wasn’t a coincidence in the first place and you were here to be present with me at this precise moment?” She says, leaving Rishit spellbound.
“So I came here to see you all the way from Delhi? But why?” He asks, confused. His heartbeat gets louder in haste.
“Because we are soul mates! And divine wants to use me as a medium for your enlightenment and realization.”
“Soul mates? Like lovers made for each other right? Well I don’t really know what you mean as by ‘divine’ but yes; I am seeking a few answers desperately!”
“No! Not lovers. A soul mate is designed to assist another soul in its path. Soul mates are different people we meet at different intervals in our lives, when their presence is necessary for our  holistic and spiritual growth. What people confuse soul mates with are Twin-flames, who are two souls meant to love each other beyond time and logic. But let us not get into those details, you already look confused. Anyway, what answers are you seeking?” She asks, all intense and focused, like a teacher.
“I don’t know! I came here because I needed to escape reality for a while. I had a terrible break-up a few months back which made me wonder who I was living for. Before that, my family abandoned me because I didn’t fit into their ‘perfect son’ terminology as I followed music as my heart was there. I asked myself the same question then. I have met people here too and have only been disappointed, which desperately inclined me towards my quest for answers.”
She closes her eyes and shifts into a deep trance. Rishit looks at her strangely. After a while she opens her eyes and looks at the sea, which is getting aggressive because of the strong wind.
“Hello! Madam! Did you even hear me?” Rishit asks her, making complicated gestures.
“Look at the sea. How is it at the moment?” She signals her index finger in the direction of the sea.
“ is really wild now, like it possesses a lot of rage inside. But isn’t that strange? Usually it is very tranquil.”
“That is exactly what it is trying to tell you!”
“Your current situation is a temporary phase where in you are enraged by your circumstances. Giving in to reality, you don’t have much to rebel against. Just like the sea is unwillingly obeying to the strong winds, causing a disruption to its usually calm demeanor. But once the wind moves forth, the sea will become calm again. It’s just about accepting the situation for what it really is now. Enduring the fact that your answers will come when divine decides that it’s the right time for them to come.” She says.
“That was really a wonderful intonation. The sea told you all that?” He giggles at her perception.
“Your answers are always subtle signs the nature tries to communicate through its elements. You just have to look for messages. Particularly for you, the sea brings you closer to your enlightenment. It refreshes your soul. That is another reason why you are here in Mumbai. Your soul desired this recreation.”
The woman made sense. Although Rishit couldn’t grasp every word of hers but he knew how much he loved the sea. On another dimension, his soul was getting closer to its equilibrium and his subconscious self was being healed. Her words were the medium.
“So what must I do to find my answers?” Rishit asks.
The sky has now reached its darkest version of grey and a subtle drizzle has begun.
“Just like the sea, you must brave the gales until they pass. Also, you must let go of all the acrimony!”
“That is really difficult to do, you know!”
“It surely is. We are just human and it’s natural to detest people and circumstances that have wronged us. But in order to discover our true selves, we have to forgive them and move ahead. If we don’t, they stay like shackles all over our body, making our journey painful and strenuous. In other words, to become what you desire, you have to sacrifice who you currently are. That is where your cleansing is done. That’s where you emerge.” Her words provide Rishit his much desired reassurance.
“Yes that’s right!” Rishit says and feels a thick water droplet on his nose.
Soon, it starts pouring heavily. The cycle coffee vendor flees and the love bird couples have their umbrellas out and start walking to find a cab. Rishit closes his eyes and feels the water droplets falling down his soul, freeing him from all his miseries. He looks at the sea and the coconut trees at a distance, all dancing along the tunes of nature. The woman has started walking with her back turned towards him and she is calling a cab.
“Hey! Wait. Where are you going? He asks.
“Going back. My job is done!” A cab stops and she opens its back door. The rain gets heavier.
“Okay. So when do we meet again? Can I take you out sometime?”
“We won’t meet again Rishit. The divine doesn’t want us to.” Rishit is infuriated.
“Fine! Thank You for your help!” He furiously mocks her.
“Bye Rishit! She smiles at him and gestures the cab driver to move.
“Listen! Listen! Wait up” Rishit runs behind the cab. She signals the driver to bring it to stop. He follows, panting.
“Yes Rishit!”
“My question has still not been answered! I want to know my reason for living! With my family, friends and love left behind, who is it that I am living for? Please sort this for me. I’d be really grateful!”
“Your soul has the answer. You have already begun to sense it. Just be aware of it now.”
“That’s just not done! Okay fine. At least tell me your name! Or you don’t have one ‘Ms. Super mysterious’?”
She smiles at him as the taxi starts moving. It disappears into the depths of the falling rain along the curved stretch.
Drenched, he starts walking by the pavement. The water being his elixir.
“I forgive you Shivani.” He mumbles to himself and lets the rain rip open the dungeons of his pained heart.


for Artist Address