Phyre takes Flight

June 2, 2009.
3:40pm IST.

As I pen this down, I am hurtling through a blue sky in a absolutely magical ride at around 940kms/hour. All I can see around me is a white haze. All I can see below me are fluffy white clouds. Clouds one could very well imagine to be goose down, whipped cream, cotton candy or a hundred different things that feel equally comforting and feel just as lovely.

Airplanes are, without a doubt, one of the coolest things invented by mankind. As the plane I was strapped in taxied before takeoff on the runway, I saw an airplane take flight. It was the first time I had seen a sight like that with my own two eyes.

Graceful, powerful and in an odd way, divine. It was magnificent.

From then on, until the time I finally gathered my wits to pen this down, my mouth had been frozen into a muoue of awe and wonder.

Yes, it is my first flight. And yes, it stole my breath away. Literally.

As the plane slowly lifted off the runway, I felt nothing but for a wild sense of exhileration and gratitude. My first trip to someplace unkown in a transport I had never before experienced was happening alone.

I had the window seat. Heck, I had the entire row of seats. It was my own private strip in a flight almost filled with people.

So in my solitude, I grinned and exclaimed all I could. Mad and freely. My muoue slowly transformed into a gape as the aircraft slowly gained momentum and geared up for the fastest zoom-off I have known. A L O N E.

The runway soon became a strip under me and then a dull slash. The buildings became little dots and then spots. The murky brown seas gave way to turquoise waters and soon Bombay- the land I was born in and roamed around in for more than twenty years was little more than an inconsequential speck. Gone.

I am now further from home than I have been at any other point of my life. The three old biddies travelling with me make up my entire connection with my hometown. My cellphone has been switched off. There is no internet to while away time with either.

All I have is a borrowed pen, an old diary, some luggage, too many mangoes, my altitude-soaked thoughts and faint strains of “Katherine Kiss Me” drifting through my mind.

This is, without a doubt, one of the most exciting things to have ever happened to me in a long, long time. Far from being disgruntled (as I initially was) about making my first flight alone, I am happy and humming. Not a bad twist in my plight if I might say so.

What is even crazier in fact,  is that my first trip in an aircraft made for an unusual and unexpected anniversary present. The anniversary of four years of the start of my wild and passionate affair with a unique man.

Happy Anniversary Melroy. And for the man that you are, Thank You.

June 2, 2009.
4:10pm IST.


Dedications, Words & Their Worth

Another wedding invite made its way to my doorstep today, and guess what? It really was just another wedding card.

Not many people get married in the summer out here, owing to the humidity and heat. Whenever someone does tie the knot during such an extreme part of the year, you would expect them to make an effort to making it special.

But no. They don’t. It’s just a wedding. So it does not matter if the wedding and the myriad functions that make it up follow a generic pattern.

Call me fussy and hard-to-please, but do not tell me that a marriage can be impersonal and so completely displaced from what the bride and the groom actually want it to be.

Do not tell me

It was destiny that brought us together.

It was love that will keep us together.

is the best you can come up with on your own wedding card.

It. Is. Just. Not. Done.

When mum & dad celebrated their Silver Jubilee, my sister and I handled the invitations. We were lucky to find Joseph D’cunha of Nirmiti Arts, who by the way is an absolute gem and a certified genius, to help us out.Wedding-Quote

The words we wanted printed on the card came to me with no great effort and when Mr. D’cunha asked me to write him a rough copy, I unknowingly gave him an idea.

He handed me a pristine sheet of paper with a ruled sheet underneath and made me pen down the words in my head. He wanted to use my handwriting instead of the usual typeface!

My sister and I were gobsmacked! We had no idea such a thing could be remotely possible.

We heartily agreed to the plan and after nearly half an hour of writing with my hand held steady, I penned down one of the most memorable pieces I ever wrote.

Once upon a time…
Two young hearts met, courted
And pledged their lives to each other.

They created a beautiful home,
Where the hearth was always warm,
The food always aplenty,
And guests always welcome.

They have seen us- their daughters,
Grow from little pig-tailed girls,
To young women.

They have taught us the meaning
Of Life, Love & Family.

They spent 25 memorable years
Walking by each other
Through life’s ups & downs.

 I ended it then with the actual invitation.

Looking back, it was perhaps not the most perfectly written piece of prose on the planet, but it was special. So special, that mum and dad were touched and so were the people we invited. 

Cards that speak of love might be chucked into the bin. The words hang on though. Sometimes forever.

 Which is why I write my own cards. On a side note, it is also why I write more than I talk.