Have you ever ridden through the rainbows?

Have you ever ridden through the rainbows? I have.

We were young and very much in love. I was wearing a traditional churidar suit- pastel green shirt and a baby pink churidar. He was wearing a checked shirt in maroon and purple with a pair of blue trousers. The bike that carried us on the road was a fiery red.

We were returning from the Delhi University when the drizzle began. The tiny drops fell on us and stung as if a thousand scorpions were awash in the rain. There was a strange mix of heady sting in the touch of the falling drops. The sun had yet to be completely drowned by the clouds. The ring road was washed a dark shade of all absorbing black by the rain water.The smell of the suddenly drenched and wet soil was intoxicating.

Several people had stopped under the fly-over to be safe and dry.

We, however, wanted the rain to wash all over us. Enjoying the cool breeze and the drizzle steadily becoming heavier into a downpour was giving us a definite high. We were both smiling into the sky... speaking... listening... soaking up the clean atmosphere.

Then, we simultaneously saw the rainbow. The seven colours were stretched across the sky reaching like a bridge across the road from here to eternity.It was asurreal scene. The light was just bright enough for the raionbow to form and yet dull enough to give a shaded grey look to the road and the people on it.The people, then simply disappeared. They were not a part of our consciousness. It was as if we were in a movie and the camera had lost all depth of focus while zooming in on the two of us on the red bike.

The banking road seemed to invite us to ride right right through the rainbow and into eternity. Was it just an optical illusion? Just some mirage that would disappear as soon as we approached it or was it a magical moment that would make us experience the divine?

When two people are in love- EVERYTHING takes on magical powers. We slowed down going through the rainbow- a perfect arch of beautiful colours. It did not disappear. The thrill gave us fresh shivers. A strange electricity ran up our spines and engulfed us both as well as the bike in magic.

It was a picture perfect moment but could not be caught on film.

Life throws up experiences that force us to slow down and think of the NOW. These moments are fleeting in nature and will simply disappear lest we hold them in our hands and consciously experience eternity through them.

Yes... I have ridden through a rainbow.

Yes... the rainbows are an expression of divinity in the mundane.

And... Yes... I AM a diehard romantic who still loves to look for rainbows- simply to ride through them!

I also remember the day when...

It was a hot and stuffy day in September. I had just started Medical school.It was four in the evening. With another friend in tow, I was rushing to catch the bus back home. We had assiduously avoided the group of 'Seniors' sitting on the Dean's Carpet- the oval lawn that marked the facade of MAMC.We were still 'facchas- freshers' and extremely suitable ragging material. We were keen to get out safely.

Just as we were stepping out of the college gate, we were called by the seniors we had been trying to avoid. Two 'boys', we later discovered, who were from the Final year. One lad was dark and a little stout. The other was somewhat fairer and very thin. Quite like Little Tommy Thin and Little Tommy Stout of the Nursery rhyme.

We, the 'freshers' did not know any names... So for the sake of description, we could label them X and Y.

A gruelling session began right there on the lawns. X ( Tommy Stout), roughly asks," Fresher, What is you name?" I am supposed to answer EACH question with a 'Sir' as the punctuation mark. "N, Sir".

X asks again," What are your interests?" " Reading, writing, singinig... " I start the usual litany and finish with a rather dry 'Sir'.

X is visibly displeased. Y is gently smiling, sitting on the grass with his legs spread out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, there is a strange sense of abandon and yet being reined in...legs reaching out... and yet pulled back in being crossed... I steal a glance. There is something very attractive about Y! I am a fresher! A senior who is ragging me- attractive? I must be nuts!

X barks," Fresher!" "Sir", I reply. "You do not seem to like the conversation we are having."

I do not know to this day what had come over me at that moment. I replied with complete confidence," As a matter of fact, I am not."

For a few seconds, there was utter silence. The air was thick with tension. X let the other girl go and asked me with over-emphasised politeness," And what, madam, is the manner in which you would like this conversation to go?" Again in a flash of rebellion or was it simply stating the first thing that came to my head, I replied, " I do not like the way in which you are talking. You are being rude and rough." Now I had stepped on a porcupine! " And what may be the right manner in which to address your Excellency?" the sarcasm was obvious.

I answered with simplicity that defied the complexity of the moment- "Like Y. He is smiling. He is relaxed. He is not being unpleasant".

Thereafter, when we became from four to two, I do not quite remember. I do remember being carted to the college cafe for a snack and coffee. I do remember being escorted to the bus stop. I do remember the chance and the not so chance meetings that kept happeneing thereafter. I also remember the discussions on Pride and Prejudice among other things. I remember being wished on my birthday in a very unusual manner. For someone who had simply ragged me, Y was becoming quite a part of my life.

I liked it. And yet I was afraid. I loved being with him and yet did not. What was the confusion? HE helped me choose the right books for the curriculum and the right instruments for the dissection hall. He was always there when I needed him and even when I did not know I needed him.

I also remember the first public phone call that he helped me make! I did not know when the coin needed to be dropped in and how it went in... in fact where did the coin go?

Gradually we became friends and shared pain and pleasure. We supported each other through our exam stress or our heartbreaks. We simply appeared out of thin air for each other whenever we needed to be with someone.

We talked and we discussed things as diverse as the meaning of life as well as the wonder of medical science. We would not realise where the time went... it just went by too fast.

Then we fought. Bitter and hard. We did not talk with each other for weeks together. And then we did. It was like riding a rollercoaster.

Finally, he got engaged.

I was stunned.

You never miss a real good thing untill it is gone...

All I wanted was a chance to say to him that he mattered. In life, however, there are no rewinds or restarts. No undo buttons. For the first time in my life I acknowledged to myself, THIS IS LOVE. MY FIRST LOVE. And I had lost it! I was doomed to lifelong heartache. Or would I get over it?

Then... studying in the library... he came to meet me...

I could not stop myself. I knew this was wrong. But if today I did not say it, I would never be able to say it to anyone with any degree of truth in my heart or my soul. " Could you not wait?" The pain was plain to see. I saw it his eyes. He turned and drove away into the horizon. I did not hope to see him ever again.

And... then... something else happened... he came back...

A lot happened thereafter... but today Y and I are man and wife. He is my fisrt and only love. I still am crazy about him. He still holds the same magic for me. We may not sit through the night like we once could and simply talk... but we are together and madly in love after more than twenty years of being together!

True love beats all odds.

True love is.

I still remember the day.

I still remember the day I first stood on stage a mere three foot something, a child of 5 in the first grade. The day was bright and the morning assembly was an 'as-usual' affair. I was well prepared.

My lines were a quotation that could make sense to a group of students from first through to twelfth grade. ... "then blow it east or blow it west... the wind that blows, that wind is best..."

I walked tentatively to the front of the stage. The mike was too high for me. I tried to reach for it on tip toes but could not. Mr Chhaya, our school principal saw me and smiled. He was later to remark that he had never in his entire career seen a child so young walk up to the mike. He took two giant steps and was by my side lowering the mike. It was a typical old-time mike of the sixties and the seventies- a rounded cylinder with horizontal grooves and fitted on a stand that could be adjusted.

I spoke my lines. No forgotten words. No stumbling.

Suddenly the silent school assembly was thrown into a tumultous applause. Everywhere I looked, I saw smiles and glow. The feeling was heady. Just a few moments ago I had been 'reassured' it was not difficult to speak. The Senior prefects conducting the school assembly were doubtful that the chit of a girl standing in front of them could have done what she had.

The rest, as they say, is history...

I spoke in every declaimation- Intra or Inter school. I debated in each category- For or against. I participated in the poetry recitations and the speech makings.And I loved each moment of it.

In those days- butterflies were only those pretty flitting creatures that loved flowers. They had nothing to do with a strange funny feeling in the pit of my stomach.

It was my father who taught me the most. He taught me that books ARE a (wo)man's best friend. He taught me that I CAN. Even if no one had done it before if I could think it, I could do it. He taught me never to let anyone tell me what I could not do. He led by example. To this day, I wonder what he found in our 'kiddie' weekly or monthly books. He would 'steal' the books as they were delivered to our doorstep by the newspaper vendor and playfully declare," Finders... Keepers...! I get to read it first because I got it first!" He would take these to work in his brief-case and strangely would allow us to raid his brief-case on his return from work in order to find these invitingly lying on top of all his papers! Was it really a co-incidence?!

My father made it possible for me to set standards for myself that very few had dreamed of in those days. My parents were among those rare few who got to see test-papers ACTUALLY marked 15 out of ten... five extra awarded for neatness and clarity of concepts.

I still remember that first day that set the tone of the days to come. I still remember how my mother waited and asked me first thing as I got off the school bus- How was the assembly. I remember waiting for Dad to come home to jump UP to his height and tell him ,"I did it!" ( Those were the days without cell phones!)

I remember the hug, the crushingly intense bear hug my dad gave me after having picked me up to his height- pleased and proud, happy and confident.

I rememeber a lot more...

Thank you, Dad!

I love you!