Meanwhile in the parallel universe...

You see, on days like this, when I come out of the cubicle farm warming my seat to  a certain satisfying temperature, good enough to make an omlette and crooning " Aashiyaan" from Barfi  till I hop on to my bus back home. A side of  head goes into self-introspection mode like this.
Getting to a self-critique zone, I don't have an earth-shattering success story to tell that deservedly needs an entry to Forbes magazine.  I haven't visited any exquisite place of  this planet to describe the nitty-gritty details of the place and rate a 'wow-quotient' for it. I haven't engaged in any adrenalin pumping activity to drool about it all over my post although I have managed to get my lazy back to do a 15 minute cardio and a 15 minute elliptical and  feel like  that horse in  Ferrari car logo coming out of the Gym. I don't have a dark poem to put up and prove my lyrical skills because I have found  that sumptuous vada pav and Mango lassi  at my dispense happens to sponge my rattling moods sooner than a pen and paper.  I don't own a DSLR to flood this space and others with pics of a crow perched on compound, dog peeing on grass and Photoshop it to Black and white tone and tag it "BLISS !". I don't have any sagely wisdom to share, I realized everyone holds a Ph.D in armchair philosophy doing their respective bits in Facebook news feed. I realized I was extra-ordinary...yes a little extra+ ordinary < PJ alert !>

And then I wonder, How would a version of myself be in a parallel universe ??

< Insert "Star Wars" background score >

< Enter Parallel universe >

Oh! Come on ! give my canvas back. Let me get that image, I have in my mind, down on this crisp sheet of paper.  I will paint the background lime green, smearing some yellow here and there. A Rajput style of painting is what I have on my mind. I will  make an outline of her with a patterned stroke in black , with deer eyes that have million tales to tell, wisps of her hair peeking out from her ghoonghat, jhumka gently swinging in her ears. The jingling sound of my bangles in right ankles will be my companion as I continue to dabble with brushes, palette and hues. When I am done, I will dunk a biscuit in my chai and sit on the staircase gossiping with you . Let's race to the shoreline from there and stand against the waves, fiercely running towards us  and feel the sand  sinking beneath our feat, as they walk back. I will hop on to the roof of double-deck bus and pretend to fly. Let's jump inside the elevator and do an Irish tap dance. I will make a caricature of yours and weave a sarcastic cartoon strip out of it to poke fun at your idiosyncrasies and gift it you to just watch you gasp  laughing. Get some wired bulbs, seal it inside a helmet and make it my lamp shade. I will sit beside it on a rocking chair and listen intently as you narrate the tales of folklore and fall asleep. Lets make a riot out of summer. Soak the ripe mango slices in saline chilli mix and leave out in the sun to dry. Lets climb the stairs two steps each time, spread the cloth on the terrace and make crazy shapes with the vadam batter. We will go on a cycle ride and I will sit in the pillion seat and I want a cushioned one. Mind you ! I will wear a monkey cap and so will you, we will slide down the slope of the  road, screaming our lungs out. Let's do a street play. A humorous one, ok. I will wear a nose ring, don a side bun and play a village girl haggling for gooseberries on the streets . Yes, I want a crisp striped maroon cotton half-sari with red and golden border. I will let you decide all your roles. We will not forget to duly take a bow clasping our hands together as we leave the show. We will cook in an earthen pot and eat on a banana leaf and play frisbee with the plates. I will give you a Hi-five when we run to  pick the same book from the shelf together. Let's call our  buddies in the backyard, Oh yes...we will jam by the campfire, I have a wishlist of songs, get yours too. Lets gather our act together with the chords of the guitar, the beats of  African drum and the Indian dhol  put together. We will make music with wind chimes, with spoons, with bottles too, let it linger in air forever, I will sway along with it . We will get into the mood and karaoke too. Then when our energies are sapped, we will chat all night long under the starry sky . I will tell you crazy little things about my childhood days and I will be eager to give my ears to yours too. We will never realize the stars drift away, because our planets will never part ways. I will get a big slice of Tiramisu, we will spoon fight and pig out until they are gone. You will pull me out of  my  entombed silence, as you will see I gently slip into, tell me about all wild, crazy, interesting things about the Hillerier river in Australia that is pink in color, about the chemistry behind the coffee stains, the math behind the birds flocking in the sky together. You will  be my radio, a non-stop chatter box but fold your hands and sync with my thoughts when I am yapping. I will make prank calls to you in disguised voice and rag you and we will have a jolly good laugh when we hang up. I will throw paper planes right on your fore-head when I find you slipping into a non-nonchalant tone.  If we run short of colors, let's grab ice golas off the road purple, pink, berry and blue, let's  slide our tongues out in front of the mirror and stare at the hues too. Did I tell you , I have this thing for hula loops ? I want it rolling resonant with my hip moves and oh ya, you will teach me how to skate board as well !. Where are we ? Lets get back to the roots. We will walk on the forts of Brihadeeshwara temple, smear some sacred ash on our foreheads, watch the evening dusk , chant "Vaishnavo janathom", revel in the intricate architectural marvel of cholas. Let's plant a coin in elephant's trunk and get our share of blessings on our forehead from him.  I will grab some old newspapers from the shelf, we will make kites and have a paper boat race after it rains. If we are bored, let us goof around by gulping water from a stout copper tumbler and make inane gargling sounds or play around with the water sprinkler outside in our garden of tulips, Lemon and coconut trees. If you need  some spotlight on you,  I  will create a scene in a restaurant and sing a Birthday song to you out of the blue , grabbing eyeballs just to get a complimentary cake and you will chime in too. Teach me how to swerve a book with suave on my finger and balance a rotating top on my forehand. 

If the bloody world gets on our nerves, we will drive on the highway, scream and shout along with thumping music on till our throats go hoarse and till we let it all out. 

< Exit parallel universe > 

Ah....So where was I ????

Yep...back to orbit one [ Yes, I made up that word to add some effect, I deserve  patent  for it :P, ain't it ??] 

Yes...it's a mess, a colorful chaos, pshycotic at times, as it should be :P , a vibrant dramatic stage on which a raw, rustic, silly, chirpy Siamese twin inside my  mind comes out of closet when the merry-go-round of extra+ordinary self is bored of mundanity or being tagged a 'Bore'.The ride of reality briefly stops before chugging the wheels again. And my bus ride comes to an end too.

And I get down from the bus, crooning where I left off, " Khawabon ke, Thinkon se, Chal Banyein Aaashayaina"