Random Thoughts

There are a lot of things going on in my head right now. All this resentment at being chained is growing in me, to the extent where it threatens to consume me. When things are fine, all these feelings are in a back burner, but at the slightest ripple, all these feelings surface, as a bubbling tornado and every time its as though they never went away. I can feel the blood rumbling, I can feel my eyes threatening to overflow, I can feel the anger in me ready to engulf everything around me. Yet, yet, I need to hold everything in. Life has to be simple, yet we complicate it, with people we surround ourselves with. I mean, even if we live on an island, we cannot really escape people, can we? Family, friends, relations, strangers - all are people, ready to pounce on us, rub their emotions on us and basically just willing to complicate our life. We cannot shut them out, nor can we let them in. Ask, talk, feel, shout, scream, wallow, cry - how many emotions and for what? Who gives a f**k about...

.... I want to scream at the top of my lungs, just scream until my voice goes hoarse. I want to keep running until every breath I take feels like the last one. I feel like a rebel. I want to challenge my own convictions of life, my own principles. What good are they, when they do not help me navigate through my life, in some semblance of peace? What good are they, if I feel lost in the chasm of misery? While the logical part of my brain, quite literally tells me to shut up and move on, the illogical heart keeps weeping at a loss that I could not control. While part of me consoles, part of me wants to rip my heart and stomp on it for not fathoming the unfathomable. And I think that part finally succeeded! I stare at what feels like a million pieces of my heart on the floor. I could quite literally hear it shatter. I stumble for words, I scramble for words, yet, nothing can explain what is going on in my head, when processing what is in front of me. I try to focus, move from one point to...

These thoughts, I ask of them to just let me be. They push and probe, they pull and hold. I try to ponder on these incessant thoughts running through my mind. When I prod them long enough, I am caught staring at myself, in a room full of mirrors that show me a myriad of my reflections. Where am I? I try to find the real me, the reflection that should be me. But alas, I realize, I am seeing the different me, that each thought of mine portrays. Which thought is true? Which is false? In the search for my reflection, I study each of them, to help me understand - the cause behind them. Some thoughts, I say, are difficult to fathom. They rage maddeningly, whirling through a sandstorm, spiraling me out of control and when realization hits, that I am caught in a spiral, I force myself to calm down, to be still. In this constant struggle to be me and to be some version of me, I see myself losing the plot, becoming a chameleon that I don't want to be. I am still searching, still probing. Ho...

March 19, 2016. There are moments in life where logic has no meaning. And one such moments is death, the absolute certainty of it and the finality of it. Gran ma passed away on March 19, 2016. And when I heard the news, the despair was all consuming. At that point, it was not about coping or standing strong, it was about mourning the loss of a person who had a significant impact on my life.  Right at this moment, twelve days after her demise, I am not really sure if I processed the pain. I feel a bit numb, with my brain functioning on and off. I keep going back to seeing her in the ice box, the look of peace on her face, one I had not seen, even in her sleep in as long as I remember. Death has finally given her peace, that which eluded her for quite sometime. While she rests in peace, her loved ones are dangling between relief and sorrow. One moment, it is a relief that her suffering is done and the other moment, is about questioning the sanity of that thought. The first coup...

I am not in the right frame of mind, at this very moment. My body is weak, my defenses are low, physically, I am exhausted and mentally, I don't seem to have the strength to wake up the next day. When I sleep, I wonder if I can wake up tomorrow and more importantly, if I want to wake up tomorrow. When I wake up, I wonder how I intend to get through the day and when the night befalls, I am thankful for the days closure. It is easy to give up, to close my eyes to the world and let myself wallow. And because it is easy, I need to fight, to push. I am trying, but for one moment, just one moment, I want to succumb, to weep, to mourn. Yet, I cannot seem to find that solace that grants me that freedom of expression. A good cry may help, but that is not my way. I cannot seem to find tears for pain that cuts too deep. I cry for silly things, I cry when I am angry, but when my heart feels like it is about to rip itself out, how can few tears assuage its feeling? Tears cannot make me forget, ...

I was looking through some old snaps, old pals, old places, places I have been to, old memories. I make myself sound old, I feel it in my bones too, that I am just a step away from being a battered old ram! But these old memories did bring in a sense of accomplishment and joy. They brought a sense of satisfaction and experience. They also brought a heavy heart. I was looking through the albums, living through the memory each snap unfolded, the moment captured in its rapture. Some made me sad, some made me smile, some made me laugh and some filled me with satisfaction. Overall, it was a good positive vibe. Yet, this question of where I belong, popped into my head, making me pause mid way through, making me go beyond the superficial. Do I belong here, among the lifeless stuffed toys that I hugged for the picture? Do I belong here, the composed smile that did not reach my eyes? Do I belong here, the careless swing in my body, standing on my tip toes, in the middle of no where? I always fe...

It is very important to remember how I feel today. The hurt that I feel right now, could swallow me, leaving me as a husk of a person that I am, that I aspire to be. Time and again, when I get into the comfort zone, falling back on being lethargic, there is this push from my conscience and the destiny seems to conspire with it to push me out of it. After all the hard work that I put in, it hurts to see that I cannot move forward from where I was. Every time I am caught up in work, I tend to forget that I work in a cut throat business, where 'I' am not important, what I do right now is not VERY important. My future value is diminishing every waking day , just as surely as I move to the closure of my life. I cannot afford to forget that, not for a waking second, if I want to be where I want to be. I am, but a microcosm in the bigger picture, one of the millions. Sure, I know my job, sure, I can do it with aplomb and so can a million others. Then, there are a million others who as...

And so.. I had an experience in Taj Falaknuma last evening for my fourth wedding anniversary. (Shocking?! To me too!!  :) ) It was a memorable experience, personally, because my hubby spent time and effort to make time for “us”, remembering my off handed mention of Taj Falaknuma after the raving reviews. We both are mostly “go and get it done” people, at least when it comes to experiences at least one of us enjoys. So, it was surprising that we waited for an occasion, perhaps, we both hoped to make our anniversary memorable subconsciously, thanks to the influence of web about the grandeur of the palace. Adorned in a saree, surrounded by peaceful never ending land, walking hand in hand with my guy, made me feel the richness from within me. That moment of peace, that moment of shared intimacy among strangers, that moment of love that engulfed me, watching him awestruck at the brilliance of the then Nawab was worth the experience that dented his wallet. Watching him gasp and stare m...

It is like a punch in the gut, when I realize, that I cannot voice out my thoughts with clarity or openness any more. When your openness is mocked, when your voice is mistrusted, why bother?! I chose to let my voice quiet down and let it be and now, it sits dully in a corner, choked of exuberance, choked of life. Now, it’s pathetic existence is a constant reminder of what a stupid choice that was. It is important to have a channel to get things out of your system. Be it a thought that is a word or a sentence or even a complex verse, at that very instant. It is important to get it out, if only to acknowledge to yourself, that thought. No one, no matter how good a listener they are, can respect that thought nor listen to it as well as you do. I sometimes think, I should perhaps consult a shrink, just to be able to voice out what is inside me. But then I ask myself, what makes you think you can trust them to listen? Trust, such an elusive mistress. Despite forced to trust, there is a cl...

Some days, it is really hard to love life. It is literally the one most unexplainable certainty, even if it is for one fleeing second. And when it happens almost every day, something has to give. These days, I feel that. I feel something has to change in life for me to feel the love inside of me, else, I will keep staring at this altercation in the mirror and wonder, what is staring back. Perfection is a difficult mistress to lap dance with, but so is imperfection. “Done” sounds a promising mistress, yet, it borders at being undone, that seeking it almost always seeks the “undone” too. Yeah, I know, that it is a convoluted sentence that sounds warped to mean something, but does not. But honestly, it does, don’t you think? Anyway, today is one of those days, where it is difficult to accept being an idiot when proof exists right in front of my eyes. Not that every day I think otherwise, but it would be nice to not have proof of being an idiot that obvious. I mean, how many days can we b...

“Not all screams are out of terror, Not all the tears are of pain, Not all the smiles are of joy…” and so started my thoughts in the middle of the night. That is one of my major talents, to wake up in the middle of the night, however exhausted, to jot down a line that seems to tickle my over-sensitive brain. Pain and pleasure, walk hand in hand or so it seems. To the moment of bliss and to the moment in hell, pleasure leads to pain and pain leads to salvation – is this form of pleasure? If the salvation is the journey to a netherland, then, perhaps it is, but who can guarantee that the journey on the other side of life is fascinating or easy, if there exists such a life? The tantalizing hope keeps playing hide and seek, as the fortune cookie tries to give me a kind word. The pessimistic heart never stops to warn the impending possibility of disaster, while the practical mind seeks peace in finding alternatives, while the exhausted body wants to scream – not out of terror – just bec...