Good Deed

I did a good deed today. Perhaps allowed someone some peace of mind. There are a few people in this world, who require knowledge. There is nothing wrong with such people, as they want to expand their knowledge and assisting them in anyway can only be good, right? So I did the good deed of expanding some fern minded intelligence to that of a tea-spoon. Well, no one can say I am bad! So what is the knowledge that I have imparted? Well, it is about me! Right! Knowing about me is quintessential to a few people and they might not really sleep in the nights, if they cannot know things about me and I did them all a favor and let them know the truth about me, from the only reliable source in this whole wide world and that is me! Now, I am not so sure why that is important, but, it is important for their sanity. Why take the curse of someone’s insanity? So, I gave them the fruit of their labour. Another thing about me is that, when I do not want to lend information, I can be such an obtuse person. I can make the conversation very one-sided and I can also make remarks that last long. Nothing that would cut through the lungs of someone (oh, I can do that too. Anyone who knows me will tell you that, I have a tongue that is like a double edged sword, can either cut you or kill you, depends on what I want to do, ofcourse), just enough to stop the discussion from going forward. And sometimes, if I feel like it, if the person is persistent, I try and accommodate myself to answer to the best of my knowledge and tell the truth, (just in case I want a chance at denial, I know what my story is… evil conniver that I am) and let the chips fall in place for further discussion. Ofcourse, I reserve the right to respond to the leading questions and once in a while, I will be in a mood to answer those questions too! Today is one such day, where, the morose me wanted some cheer. After all, its new year around the corner and it is important that I bring cheer to people, right? So, today, I was caught up by a person requesting my life story. Ah, here is the twist though, I am a nobody. I mean, perhaps to a few, I am somebody, but face it, I am not a hot shot personality that is news, not even the classified news! So, why would anyone want to know my life story? Well, there are people who believe that knowing someone else’s life is knowledge and one such person required the information. Instead of listening to second hand junk, I spared a moment and told the truth. Then came the leading questions and well, I answered few and left few in some Schrodinger’s state. And you know what? It felt good. For, I smiled. Now, what kind of an egotist am I, if I tell the truth about myself with a straight face? So, I smiled and it did me good too.

Reliving the fond memories even for someone you could care less, does bring a smile and cheer to your heart. Not saying that one’s life is a public display, but, what bad can come out of a good memory, apart from it being told in perhaps prejudiced way, perhaps for one’s own voyeuristic gratification? Well, rumours fly in the same way too. So, I cannot forever hang in a cocoon, afraid that the breaking it open would eventually be a mistake! So, I broke the cocoon and it felt good, this freedom.

For all those who read novels, I have no mystery. I have no secret vendettas. I have no hidden communications in the closet nor do I have any mystery codes delivered in the newspaper nor do I have an underground laboratory that believes in aliens, where I listen to signals from Mars! I am a girl next door, who minds her own business and does not honestly care, if the neighbour next door has a cat or a dog or a late night visitor. I am a person who can try being a friend(unsuccessfully) once in a while. I am a person with an underpaid job and over ambitious dreams. In short, I am like everyone around me! So, wonder why it is important? Well, if only I had a penny for the curiosity of every person around me!! SIGH!

Pain and pleasure

Missing you does not even begin to cover the hole in me. As time passes, these things should be easy. To let go, knowing that you would return, yet, letting go has always been a problem for me. Every time I let go, I have this feeling of being stranded in the middle of no where. Lost, that is how it feels. Lost my way and stuttering around in the dark, opening myself up for a pit or rock, not knowing what would embrace me and if I have enough strength to withstand that.

As the journey unwound today at a speed of 120, the intermittent red lights screaming at me to not look further down the lane, my heart raced abreast with the road, curling its way to the airport, the parched throat reminding me of a painful adieu. While I tossed and turned around, unable to get my mind around the numbness when I realized that the pain is just round the corner, waiting to grab my throat, I wondered if you felt the same way about this. If you could feel the distance that seems to forever hover around us, if you could begin to understand how complex a thought is running through my head, those thoughts that made me from a sparkling light to a defused bulb. The bitter sweet pain of the love I feel when you are around, when you hold me and smother me senseless, oh, how can I comprehend this emptiness? How can I withstand this queasy feeling of being choked by love?

Sitting here, in the chair, not so long ago, occupied by you, typing the letters which form words, words that are tortured to form a coherent meaning. My eyes blur all of a sudden and I wipe them away, angry at myself for being weak, I look around the room, the haphazard array of blanket thrown on the bed, knowing that I will wrap myself around in that blanket, hoping that the comfort of your scent shall offer me solace, hoping that the warmth of the blanket shall engulf me into your arms that have been the most coveted position I ever achieved, hoping that the ruffles on the pillow cover shall fill my head with your thoughts and put me to a slumber free of dreams…

Distance has always caught up on us. Is it a choice or a chance? Together we atone, for the choices we make in life, but, being alone we atone the choice of being together. Is it worth it?

I will miss you…

Sweet December

There is something about December that brings in a sense of joy to me. Typically, December month releases movies full of snowfall, romance, vibrant color, fantastic fireworks, lilting music and exuberance. I love the snowfall, I love the colors in the air, I love the work in office – loaded and full-on pressure, I love the hope that comes with the new year being around the corner, promising something new and fantastic and ofcourse, the end of season sales and festive offers. I love the decors in the malls, I love the displays on the windows and the late night strolls on the walkways of the brightly lit stores. The smiles dance on the corners of the lips and a joy springs into the heart at the sight of beautiful dresses and lovely weather.

And ofcourse, today I have all those reasons and more. My heart literally sings at the very thought and the smile cannot be rubbed off my face today. Tense all around, yet my heart swirls in a dance, composing its own tune as it moves around. I cannot wait for tomorrow and yet, I do not wish for the day to pass on quickly. There is a beauty to a sweet anticipation, there is a beauty in enduring the constant tick of the clock, knowing that every tick brings me closer to the moment.

I am happy!

Harry Potter and Deathly Hallows - Part 1 - Movie

I could hardly wait to watch this film and when I did, I have had a fantastic experience. I would not say that it stuck to the book to the letter, but at least the integrity of the book was kept as a whole. I do have a few complaints, but let me first feel the thrill running through of my nerves, of watching one of my favourite trio (onscreen and the characters of the book) – Harry, Ron, Hermoine. First impression, WOW, I am watching the epic finale or the build up to the epic finale. I hope the part 2 shall not be as disappointing as the book, though.

I would have been happy to watch the duel between Dumbledore and Grindelwald. I get it, that the movie is about Harry Potter trying to find a solution to the impending doom, but, is it not logical to put a little effort in capturing the essence of Dumbledore, who played a phenomenal role in what Harry is today and what he would be doing tomorrow? A little portrayal of Rita Skeeter’s book , introducing Aberforth (Dumbledore’s brother, who has a role in the next film, hopefully) and perhaps the death of his sister, etc. That story meant something to Harry and more importantly, it would have been nice to have one huge fight in the movie, with sparks, colors and spells. Not every day do we get to watch magic. And when I go into the theatre to watch Harry Potter, that is what I expect, magic, that leaves me spellbound. And also, that story speaks about what made Dumbledore who he is, which comes out in the final meet with Harry, at the moment of culmination of the epic war between good and bad. Now, I wonder, how the ending would be, of this interesting onscreen portrayal. And I have a very LONG wait.

Hermoine was superb, she dominated the screen, as usual. Harry was alright, the usual self. Ron, was good too. I have no complaints on the usual deviation from the book – like the point where Harry was supposed to be Barny in the Bill and Fleur wedding, as he should not be seen as Harry Potter in public, or the missing speech of trusting the remaining people in the room, after they were attacked by the Death eaters – this was a slight reference to Harry’s father, James Potter by Lupin, or Harry finding the letter from Lily and his childhood photo – a little reflection of the existence of his parents, just a warm note in his grim life. Dobby – the house elf was fantastic. Beautiful. The comedy timing in the film was superb too. One complaint that stayed from the last movie – do NOT change the essence of Harry Potter, please. Harry is not the one who asks people to take risk for his sake. In the movie, in the first scene, Harry was shown to be reluctant to ask other people to put their lives to risk, when they all turn into Harry Potter’s, but later on in the film, he asks Ron to accompany him on his journey to find horcruxes. You cannot show Harry with two different shades of character at the same time!!! Harry is not selfish, period. He is compassionate and his greatest strength is his innocence and the bond he shares with Hermoine and Ron. And the proof of that loyalty is what makes him accept their presence in the journey to meet his own death! Unacceptable! But I am willing to overlook the flaw! :)

The movie served its purpose, the build up to the finale is superb. I cannot wait to watch the final part of this series. I thoroughly enjoyed it. As a Harry Potter series fan, the movie made sense to me. I am not sure, if it makes sense to all the people who have not read Harry Potter or watched his earlier onscreen portrayals. What amazes me is that the people who portrayed these characters have grown infront of our eyes, on the screen and it is fantastic to watch them grow.

For all you Harry Potter fans, grab your brooms and fly to the theatres to watch this film, NOW. And feel the grim tone with which you leave the theatres, in anticipation of the next part! I enjoyed the ride so far!

A sacrilege

There seems to be a choke stuck in my throat that is wilfully agonizing my day. For some reason, the choke is not out of despair, it is out of anger and frustration. What place are we sharing if a genius has to prove himself time and again, over and over and over again? 

Rahul Dravid is a phenomenon in Indian Cricket. He might not be as flamboyant as Sehwag, might not have been “God” of cricket like Sachin or might not have been as outspoken as Sourav, but that does not make him any less important to the team. I don’t want to speak of the exploits he did with the bat or the courageous displays of grit. I just wish that he would be left alone. Given a chance, I would envelope in a time capsule and push him away, away from all these prying eyes who want to rip him apart. His batting is like that of the brush strokes of Da Vinci and the sonnets of Shakespeare. Why question his commitment? if for one shot of his bat, I have to wait for a thousand strokes, I am prepared to wait, for when the shot unleashes from the bat, it is so artfully played that one is left gaping at the splendour. I cannot quite fathom the criticism he needs to take. Why? Why is it so difficult to accept greatness? Is it because it is available for everyone to see?

I do not want him to play any more cricket, to allow any of these people who cannot understand brilliance, to ever watch him play cricket. It is like leaving a diamond in the muck and expecting a tramp to cherish the rare jewel and not broker it in a pawn shop for a meagre trifle. Gosh! It is heart-breaking to listen to the comments. Deliberate malice just to nudge a reaction out of me seems to be the thing of the day. And to speak of him, to defend him, is a blasphemy, a sacrilege.

Whatever tomorrow holds

DISCLAIMER: This is a fictional story. All the characters are fictional. The incident itself is a creation. Any resemblance to people or to the situations in the real world, is purely coincidental.

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The random people on the street have more in common than them. How ironic is that? Yet, they are forced to endure those differences, by the law, by the people around them, by their well-wishers, by their parents. However, they would rather blissfully forgive their hypocrisy, if they do not want to be together. What defines this bond, that which pulls the strings of their conscience, but does not touch their hearts? Day after day, to kill a part of you, yet, unaware of the murder that is being committed. No wonder, when the time comes for the certainty, we are all unprepared. And no wonder the eventuality is assumed as a certainty. Perhaps, when one could have some integrity in their thoughts, world would seem so much better. One redeeming quality, is that too much to ask of oneself?

Every day, dreaming of monsters, loving and hating them at the same time, but still closing the eyes every single night in the hope of getting a fitful sleep; hoping that the monsters would not come to torment us, at the same time, hoping that they do and perhaps, push us into oblivion. What is it with people? Who welcome the torment and embrace it? What is it in pain that pushes people to seek it? Is it because the pain would perhaps be seen as a sacrifice? That the sacrifice we make to bear that pain is our choice of accepting it, hoping to be a martyr! We could choose to not live the pain, for it is in us to stop it and walk away. We all believe that, just as we believe that the sun rises in the East. We believe that we are the masters of our destiny. How foolish can we be? If we are the masters of our lives, then why seek a higher conscience to look up to? If we are the masters of our lives, why think of fate and destiny?

We smile at a passing stranger and frown at a loved one. We seek to love dispassionate people, hoping to ignite hidden passions. We love and hate, scoff and scorn, ridicule and spare - why is it that the human nature requires this chivalry for every thought that fool of a brain can think? Passion is craved, despite knowing that it is not freely available in the market. Craving for something that is out of reach is also human nature. For some reason, the journey towards a destination filled with thorns and fire is fascinating, perhaps, because we seek, in some hidden way to be heroes, super-heroes, if only for a single person.

Anna continued to struggle with her thoughts, trying to find some way of dealing with her frustrations. She looked at the clock, wearily, noting that in about another hour, she would be that stranger, whom she did not recognize in the mirror. She sighed. She looked around the house, the four walls that subdued her to a mere reflection of the inner most fears she had, when she got married. Her husband is not bad, it is just that she was unable to be good. She was having hard time, trying to cope up with the changes that were demanded of her. It was like her life changed continuously, from one moment to another, demanding more and more and more. She gave in to those changes initially and with zeal. She gave in to those changes a little conspicuously, as time progressed. And now, she felt that the change is the only thing that defined her, being stretched from one charade to another with alarming regularity. Just as the baton gets passed on the dining room table of a crowded army, she was being passed, from one role to another to another. Once being a working wife, then a new in-law, then a new mother to an old wife, to an old in-law, to a new-mother of a teenage son, to a house wife, to a neighbor, to a daughter. How many roles can she play?

She wondered, what right, people had, to influence her mind, into thinking that she had to live for the sole purpose of making her life worthy, by being this obedient wife, daughter, mother, in-law. The girl in her, craved for something more, which she could not explain to people. She had the yearning for him, just, she was not completely happy with that yearning. It was not like her heart flutters at the mere look of him. It was a long time, since her heart sang for him. She was tired of living together. Agreed, that the silence is comfortable between them. Agreed that he is conscious of her every move. But that just does not seem to be sufficient for her. She wondered, had she not been married, would her life be different?

She reflected that she would miss her son dearly. He was a spitting image of his father, the reflection of her love she once felt. The gooey attachment that sprung from being too intimate, the feverish spasms of breath, the tingling in the pit of her stomach, the longing to be home to be in his arms, the subtle flirting in the restaurants, the coy smile she held for his-eyes-only, the late night long drives, the content to just be in his arms on one of those irritating days, knowing that the world could come to an end, but she would still be safe in his arms. Gosh, she reflected on those moments, trying to find some semblance of that emotion in her. But she found herself dispassionately flipping through the images that once choked her heart. When did it happen, this bereavement? And most importantly, why? She wondered, if he noticed the indifference in her. Did he even wonder why she was quiet most of the time? Did he even wonder why she has a perpetual frown on her face? Did he even wonder why she seemed to be lost in thought, most of the time? Did he notice her slipping out of bed in the middle of the night, to sit with a book? She sighed. It was asking too much, to expect things from him. He is the one who puts food on the table, he is entitled to have a relatively peaceful day, without having to worry about her needs and desires. She had no right to be demand something from him, for he provides for her and her family. She laughed mirthlessly at this thought. How easily had she converted him into a pay check? She saw him as a golden goose for her family. The sardonic smile on her face was almost sad. What monster has inhabited her, to think such vile thoughts? To hold such contempt towards her better half? Despite her self-rebuke at the thoughts, she thought, why does she not have the right to voice her needs or desires. She is working as much as he does, perhaps not in earning bread and butter, but it is not easy to maintain the house and the kid, to handle the tantrums of the kid, to ensure that he studies while she is busy putting a meal together, to pay the bills, to shop for groceries, to be there for your in-laws, to be there for your son, the parent-teacher conferences, the neighborly bonding. Friends long forgotten, dreams long forgotten, as daughter - inexistent, as a lover - an act. It has been a while since she thought of herself. She did not even buy a new dress in a long time. Just because she stays in the house, did not mean she did not deserve the occasional gifts. She sighed, her eyes filling with tears, at the mere helplessness of the thought that she could not go out and buy herself a damn dress. Oh, she had money. He surrendered fifty percent of his monthly pay checks to do as she pleases. But she never used that money for anything other than the family expenses. She could not quite commit herself to using that hard earned money for some frivolous expense. What need did she have to be frivolous? She realized that she was being unreasonable, though she could not quite put a finger to that detachment. She brushed the horrid tears from her eyes and tried to steady herself. She looked at the watch and noticed that she had another half hour to make herself presentable to her husband. She vowed that he would never get to know the monstrosity in her mind.

She took the pain of swallowing the lump in her throat and dressed herself to look decent and tried to smile. She succeeded with some effort. She was not worried that he would notice. That might have been once, not now, when his career is blossoming and he has little time to make an effort to understand her. She sighed again. She hated that she should be part of a celebration that is a painful reminder of her pitiful condition. The anniversary, she mused. When was the last time she took real interest in any of the occasions? The last time that she remembered was their second anniversary. If she has to be honest, that was the only year she felt special. Now, after fifteen years of marriage with her son in his teenage and her husband's career prospects looking promising, she had no reason to be unhappy. Yet, she was and she had no idea how to overcome that. She briefly contemplated suicide and rejected it immediately. If she had the guts to commit a suicide, she had the guts to pick the shreds of her life and make it what she wanted it to be, rather than morosely reflecting on the past and letting the dejection take over her. Her heart protested that the future life is too difficult to fathom. She got up slowly, not quite understanding what she intends to do, when she heard the front door open. She saw him walk through the door with a bouquet in one hand and his lips curved into a smile that sparkled. She saw the Adonis that he was as she returned his smile, a reflex she developed over the years, easily slipping into the charade of a wife. It was unnerving, this transformation, she thought.

He hugged her and took a deep breath, breathing her scent in.

"Happy Anniversary, pretty wife. I love your perfume and I love you", he said, hugging her tightly.

Was that a compliment she heard?, she thought.

"Happy Anniversary dear husband. You look handsome too", she smiled.

He pushed her a little away, holding her at arm's length, subtly observing her.

"Are you alright?", he asked.

She nodded. He looked into her eyes and she wondered if he could read the thoughts running in her mind. Of course, he could not. He stared a minute longer and asked, "Did you cry?"

The tears threatened to well up again, but she refused to show any weakness to him. "Why in the world will I cry?", she asked, in mock incredulity.

She continued to hold his gaze steadily. He looked at her a while longer and asked if she was ready to head out. She gave a radiant smile and nodded. He looked at her a while longer, wondering how to explain the deadbolt in his heart. He knew something was wrong, but he could not put a finger on it. He had observed his light-hearted and warm wife turn into a cold companion, who struggled to pretend that all the things were alright. He waited too long to decide that he needed to confront her and get it all out of her system. He waited too long, after deciding that it was too long and the rift just grew to a boundary, around her. He did not know what else he could do. He let her be, giving her the time and the freedom, slowly knowing that she was slipping away. The sand need not just slip from the closed fist, an unstable hand can throw the sand around. Their relation became unstable and they were both of being scattered. And he did not know how to steady the hand or the relation and he doubted if she did. She looked tired, he noted. He is tired too. Of waiting for long, too long, hoping that she would let him help her overcome that pain in her.

He held her close to his heart, content on holding her, content on providing that warmth to her, hoping that it would be sufficient to soothe her pain, whatever it was. There was a time, when that was sufficient to make her feel elated. Now, he was not so sure. He pressed his lips on her hair, whispering "I am here for you". She could not bring herself to understand his words. It negates her emotions, that the changes in her were unnoticed by him, that the passion between them had dried up a long time ago. She could not come to terms with the feelings running through her. She was baffled by them. Is this why the relations last, for that momentary comfort offered on some fortunate day? Life does not change overnight and tomorrow would be another day, her thoughts pushing her through the hilt and her heart snapping at everything. For now, though, the comfort did soothe her raging heart and she suddenly realized that she missed that warmth of him, that embrace around her over the past few days, or was it years? Perhaps, the hug meant a little more today, because she was hoping to hold onto some sanity and his warmth gave that line to her. She pushed her thoughts aside, brought her hands around him and snuggled closer, holding him, taking the comfort and offering assurance. Whatever tomorrow holds, she had today.


She released him and they walked together to the door, both with heavy hearts, yet with smiles on their faces and the charade continued. People become attached to their burdens sometimes more than the burdens are attached to them. Martyrs are walking around us, every single day. Why are Oscars most coveted? Oscars are easy to find in the lives of every common man! "I only dread one day at a time", she mused.

Ramble...

What is it with questions that irk people? Is it because the answers to them are inconvenient or is it because it is the guilt of knowing that the truth hurts or is it because of plain ego that refuses to give answers? What is it in the ego that demands instant obedience (for lack of better word) and sacrifice? Are these the only things it can understand? Not love or pain?

“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I don’t require you, damn it.”
“Fine. Now let’s talk something else.”
“I don’t understand. PERIOD”

How many times have we heard those before, from one or the other or probably from one’s own echo? How easy is it to cut people from their voices, just because one cannot bear the thought? And just because one cannot understand the concept, does that mean that the concept doesn’t exist? Despite evolving over centuries and despite languages evolving beautifully, there is something about words that are difficult to fathom. Despite the cross cultural differences being shunned to nothing, the language of loved ones remains a mystery. Sometimes, I feel that the beauty of anything lies in its confined boundary. The laugh that bubbles in the throat, the unfinished thought, the breath held, the memory lingered – all within confinement are beautiful. The moment the laugh succeeds in coming out of that throat, it could be a giggle… the unfinished thought might be cruel, the expended breath is nothing but poison and the memory lingered is the proof of non-existent truth. Just like words are poured out of the heart only to be trampled upon. Just stop and consider – how the words that are slipped influence someone else! No, not until it comes back and bites you in the a$$... For some God forsaken reason, that still does not stop one from being spiteful!

To think, that there is love and respect – oh well, these are even difficult to find. The people we love are taken for granted and the respect never survives through the years of knowing someone personally. Sometimes I feel that living underground or below the sea is far better. The worst one can find are carcasses or sharks that swallow you. Not people who deliberately try to hurt you. No people, period. So much better – living a life alone. Parents, friends, partners, kids – all are really mere illusions that a comfortable mind creates – they do not exist. They are mere charades put on to quench the demands of society. Damn the society to hell, for demanding hell for everyone. Damn the relations to hell, for demanding the little peace in life.

I am frustrated about a lot of things, things that never made sense and are now nearly impossible to decipher. How true is it that in the ambitious life, everyone is a mere player in everyone else’s playground? Where emotions hold no meaning or value. One day, when we stop the play, we will realize, one did not make any progress, but every one is damn bloody and exhausted and an inch closer to death. Perhaps, even then, hell and heaven have a battle! God, please chase the nightmares away. I don’t need them and I am happy without them. And if you are still listening, you know what to do…please… don’t give me things and take them away – don’t give them, period! I don’t need them or want them.

Muse

These days I am having difficulty jotting down thoughts. I am unable to come up with anything logical or conclusive. I am unable to even make a series of random thoughts. The disconnected array of thoughts is far better than a blank one. Yet, the brain blatantly refuses to think and mind draws a blank, after repeated requests! It is like, it has exhausted the limited supply of thoughts. Cannot quite understand why that is the case though. I am afraid that the muse has eluded me forever and that I am stuck in a pool of shallowness from which nothing ever springs – just a ripple on the water. For some reason, the echo of my inner voice that blasted in my ear has gone mute or I have become deaf. Either ways, there seems to be a glaringly obvious handicap I seem to carry.

Ramble....

The ability to think opposing ideas, hold them in the brain and then go about performing the day-to-day activities would lead to satisfying results. Opposing ideas are such difficult thought processes, since the moment there are two things in mind, the brain refuses to respond and throws an exception – “AmbiguousCommandException”, saying that there are two tracks pulling in different directions and that it cannot choose. Brain is hardwired to perform in a certain way, right? It has inputs from X channels and inputs from Y channels and it processes them and comes to a cumulative set of options that are further analyzed and a certain output is thrown out of its complex structure! Which means, a cumulative set of options will have to be generated. But, what if, the cumulative set of options are all opposing to each other? Like, one signal says, love and the other says, hate. One says, light and other says, dark. To carry these simultaneously, weigh the pros and cons of loving and hating, light and dark, can one arrive at a conclusion?

Gosh! I keep doing this time and again and I personally feel, one day I would snap and that my IQ would drop down to that of a fern!

I'm with you

DISCLAIMER: This is a fictional story. All the characters are fictional. The incident itself is a creation. Any resemblance to people or to the situations in the real world, is purely coincidental.

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She looked forlorn, as she gazed out of her bedroom window, on to the street below. The skies are blue, the sun is bright, the breeze is cool, the kids are playing on the road. All in all, the day demands that it be enjoyed, yet, she looked forlorn. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, as though the reflection might help her over the sudden weight she felt. She forced herself to cheer up and on an impulse decided to go shopping. She got ready with a trouser and a top, took her wallet and the bus pass and breezed through the road towards the bus stop. She always did this little dance, when she thinks her body requires a little cheer, hoping that the extra jolt drives the weight off her mind and body. She stood in the bus stop, impatient for the bus, looking at her watch.

“Ahh, go away!!”, she murmured to herself and looked at the empty road. Her impatience soared high at the sight of the bus round the corner. She watched its slow approach, with the tense muscles on her face. The frown on her forehead, the creases around her eyes and the set of her mouth add a distinguishable aura to her. A warning to the people to stay away from her. The bus stopped in front of her and she boarded it, showing the driver the bus pass as she took her seat in the second row on her right. The bus was visibly empty, just a handful of passengers. The bus began its lethargic drawl and she glanced around at the fellow passengers.

A girl, talking on her cell phone, with her hand wrapped around a gift wrapped box. She looked at the box which had a blue shiny paper and a red flower on top. The girl played with the flower absently, as she continued to talk on the phone with a smile on her face. She felt irritated at that smile and turned towards a lone passenger on the back of the bus who looked asleep. She watched that passenger for a couple of minutes before turning to another couple who were sitting behind her. The girl was lying on the shoulder of a guy. She had her eyes closed and a look of contentment on her face. Her left hand was in his right, and their fingers were entwined. The guy laid his cheek on her head and was looking out of the window. She looked at their hands and at the guy. The guy looked content too. She kept staring at those hands, not thinking about the embarrassment if she got caught staring at them. The bus took a turn and the sun was on her side of the bus. She was so engrossed in those entwined hands, that she did not care about the sun in her eyes. The guy, with his left hand, took out a handkerchief and swished it in the air, the movement which she observed from the corner of her eye. He placed that handkerchief on the girls head, to ward off the sun from her face and kissed her on the top of her head, a fond, lingering kiss. Suddenly the guy looked at her and gave a startled look. She looked him in the eye and for a moment just looked into them, before she turned away. She did not know what hurt more – the sun in her eyes or the entwined hands or the guy’s soft brush of his lips on that girl or the evident love in his eyes or the content of the girl. She just could not understand. She had to get down. She looked around to see if there was anything she recognized in that place. She knew the area and she thought she could walk the remaining two blocks to reach the mall. She buzzed the bus for a stop. The driver gave a backward glance before moving along. There was no stop and she knew it, yet she buzzed again. “No stop”, said the driver. She buzzed again, her eyes pleading. The driver looked back at the passenger causing this mess. What he understood is unknown, but he pulled over a pit stop and opened the door. She looked back at the girl and the guy, both their eyes were closed. She looked at their hands, they were still entwined. She got down, tormenting herself for looking back. She walked fast along the foot path, not observing her surroundings.

She breezed past the road and turned left on the corner and walked at a brisk pace. She suddenly began to run and ran until she was out of breath and then she stopped, just as suddenly as she started her running. An abrupt halt, as though another step further was unimaginable. She bent forward, taking deep breaths, steadying herself. Then she looked around, noticing people looking at her, before moving along. She looked around and noticed that she was way past the mall and she almost ran a complete circle towards her house. She took deep breath, annoyed at herself. She opened her eyes and looked around and looked at her watch. Her vision blurred and she said again, “Go away!”, and closed her eyes again. She took several deep breaths and decided to walk back home. She recollected the guy and the girl again. She forced herself to a steady walk, while her legs ached to break into a run. Her mind issued an order and the legs were forced to obey and they were not happy. Her heart insisted that they run, but they were helpless. Mind, the ultimate controller gave a direct order, to walk. They cannot disobey a direct order! So, they walked. The inner war with those commands, made her gait awkward. She sagged a little, while moving forward and the twenty minutes in which she should have reached her place, took an hour for her. She climbed the stairs slowly, as though each step was painful and finally reached her door. She opened the door and closed it behind her and leaned on it. Took few breaths to steady herself and walked into the living room and collapsed on her couch. She closed her eyes, closing her right hand over the watch. The tears slid down her eyes, a slow drop, one after the other. She lay down for sometime, before she stirred.

“I’m with you”, a voice said. She snuggled closer, towards the sound of that voice, as she sighed and her lips formed a smile. She woke up at the embrace she felt. It was dark. She could not make out anything. She felt around and was surprised to find the embrace hard and unmovable. It took a moment before she realized she was on the floor. She got up and switched on the light and looked around the room. She was sure she heard the voice and felt the whispered breath. She was sure that her hair moved a little at the slight breath that whispered those words. She touched her hair, at that memory. She looked around the room and took a step towards the bedroom. She walked in, and switched on the light. Looked at the empty bed and looked at the watch. She sighed and walked across the room and opened the drapes on the windows. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. She was a mess. She removed her watch and turned it around. It was engraved with “I’m with you!”. She sighed and put it on the vanity shelf.

She went into the bathroom and splashed her face with water. She patted her face dry and changed into shorts and came out of the bedroom switching off the light behind her. She felt somewhat lighter. The thought of lingering breath made her breathe easy. She sat on the couch and thought of the entwined hands. She held out a hand and was not surprised to find them embraced. She looked at the table in front of her and kept looking at the photo, that stared back at her smiling. She gave a smile and murmured, “I’m with you”!

Five years and still going strong...

8-9-10 – the number my husband is too fond of! And today, it is 08-09-10. Barring his love for this series, there is another event that occurred today – my fifth year in my professional life and I am still holding my fort, happy with what I am doing and where I am standing. Still hungry for more and still yearning for more – so, that definitely is a happy place. Here’s a note, wishing all my colleagues “Heartiest Congratulations!” on this significant day.

Hope that the forward journey is more challenging and satisfying…

Makes no sense to me...

Behind the mask, the beautiful face casts its radiant smile, blinding and scorching the very essence of the bearer and causing a shudder to the observer. Yet, the beauty enchants and forces the embrace that turns into shackles that cannot be broken by mere whim or by the force of iron, for the shackles are not physical restraints but rather the ramifications of the imaginary locks on the thoughts of the mind. Pray, tell, how can one fight this? Should one endure this pain? Need not, it is just a simple solution of making oneself happy – like the “Expecto patronum!” charm against the dementors. Yet, it is so difficult to be happy, when one chooses to wallow in the never ending pits of one’s own selfishness and other’s self-centredness! Night grows into a day. As the hidden masks wear off and the light scatters the darkness around, few lives are stumbled into the darkness, those that spring to life in the darkest hour of the day. In the closed walls of the house, the demons of the lust embrace the insecurities that spur from the need of dominion and unleash their cruelty on to the weaker hearts – the demons enjoying the pain and pleasure alike. A welt or a lash, both pain as such, but the true hurt comes from the cold shoulders of the one you love. How easy it is that one forgets the journey to a destination, alas, is it not the race run than the race won that makes the win memorable, yet, the race run is always masked by the moment’s glory. How sad can that be? Sadder still, the paths covered with the tears are now covered with the flakes of snow – the snow caused by the coldness of the travellers! Perhaps, by now, the paths of the earth should have been filled with snow everywhere – making it difficult to breathe. Since it is otherwise, may be there are kinder folks, and happiness around, where the sun shines brightest and the rains come and go and the snow breezes through like a royal queen – visiting and enjoying the rare warmth before it unleashes its wicked face and swarms the warmth to nothing but a pale halo!

Impasse!

Is there a truth to bliss in relationships? When people from different worlds meet and walk along together a certain road, a bond is formed. That is true, with everyone. We form bonds with people we study with, work with, share a roof with. Are those bonds really strong or will they blow away after a certain time? isn’t it true, that most of the friends we had in school are a distant past, a few who come and go in intervals to say a “hi” or wish on a birthday? And same goes to college friends too, the occasional phone call, the occasional birthday wish and perhaps an occasional anniversary message or perhaps an occasional movie together or a luncheon together or a group dinner, etc. The same with ex-colleagues, despite spending more than twelve straight hours in office, the moment we leave the company, they are nothing but mirages on the road. And what about colleagues we work with? The people we spend considerable amount of time, the people with whom we have conversations that last longer than five minutes? Aren’t they outside the box when out of the office? what about people who live in the same house? Mother, father, brother, sister, husband, kids – all have their lives, the lives they fondly built. Despite naming them personal relations, despite naming them blood relations, are they any closer than the acquaintances we pass along lives? When the inner voice, closes out and refuses to open up and the so called relations cannot see the turmoil of the people they supposedly love, what for are all those relations? Is it all a farce? Yesterday, in a conversation with a friend whose company I immensely cherish, there was a statement that went along the lines that we create better stories than God. If God, the embodiment of happiness, peace, love and success, could not create the world that is happier – because the people in it are forever unhappy with something or the other, can humans, with their creativity create a better world? The fantasy that exists in the words that are black on white can make a happy place for a soul to dwell in, why cannot the reality make a relative difference and be a cause of happiness? The suffocation of truths and the disappointments of the facades, that camouflage the reality with such ridicule, are the mirrors of life and perhaps that is why the “bliss” in the bonds that exist in day-to-day life is so little! yet, supposedly they are essential for existence, yet, supposedly they are what people crave for! Why live in a world that suffocates the “YOU”? Perhaps, that is the way the world is and that is the place we are forced to live in, since the astronomical charts say that there is little hope of life in any other part of the galaxy and even if there exists such a world, the economy is insufficient to bear the costs of such a journey and even if it can be remotely possible to make such a voyage, the lifespan of people may not accommodate the travel and more importantly, we would still be living with the same people, who are the root cause of the problem! So, we still live in a world we detest, make a living, spend the earning and still go about bitching, through the forty odd years a person lives! Impasse!!!

Oh Well, not again!!!

“Why should I cook? It is a girl’s job!” I heard my brother stating vehemently. And the feminist in me took that as a sure sign of conflict, which triggered an age old debate of “Girl Job” and “Guy Job”. Boy, was I irked at that insolent tone or what! Define “girl job” for me please… just because a girl takes the responsibility of keeping a hot meal on the table twice a day, can that be labelled a girl’s job? I can show you a few hundred girls who do not know how to cook and I can show you a few hundred guys who do a grand job of putting a meal together.

And the topic went on and on about the usual “paycheck is earned by men”
“how difficult is it to cook a meal?”
“Men do all the hardwork in the family and girls just cook and sleep” etc etc etc…
I don’t even want to humble the questions with counter points. Seriously, I was surprised about the chauvinist attitude that I told him as such – to stop being such an MCP. Shudder!

I was wondering, however, what good is all that manliness if he cannot make a hot cup of tea/coffee or soup for a sick mother or wife or sister? Perhaps, that has something to do with over pampered morons who were fed three square meals a day irrespective of the state of their mother. Since, obviously fathers refuse to enter into the kitchen (barring my dad, ofcourse, who not only cooks buts feeds my mother when she is unwell!). why is it so difficult to inculcate sensitiveness into a guy’s brain, to have his eyes and ears open to the people who make his life easier? Hmpf!!!

Cabby's Lesson for the day...

These days, I enjoy my cab ride a little too much. The reason being the chauffeur enjoys his job too much. I don’t feel a bump, I don’t feel a discomfort and that is when I sit behind. I relax with the soothing music, my kind of music – soulful, good lyrics and above all, fabulous voice and different music every day. I look out of the window, let the breeze gush onto my face and just about be lost in the words that are in the background. And as the voices behind disappear, I begin to relax and my mind wanders for the day ahead. The cabby doesn’t hurry, doesn’t drive fast and I still reach on time – there is this sense of relaxed mood around him that makes me feel that I have all the time in the world for planning my day. I get in a right mood to the office and get started with the day, in the right frame of mind – relaxed, well planned and completely happy. It made me realize, how much our environment influences the moods one has in a given day. Despite the traffic, despite the honking, despite the pollution – all these are right in front of my eyes, yet I don’t feel the wrath of the effort or frustration. Composed, quiet and focused, he moves on. Isn’t it amazing?

I have had the experience of travelling in different cars with different people at the wheel, few who curse the roads, few who curse the fellow drivers, few who see an empty road and think they can accelerate like a grand prix. Little do they realize the effect of their driving on the fellow passengers. When I sit in these vehicles, I tend to get frustrated as much as they do. I tend to see the anger building in me too- at the other reckless drivers, at the government for the condition of the roads and sometimes, just the frustration of driver. I can probably never understand the intricacies of driving comfortably, but all I know is that, if the driver is not someone who is passionate about his driving, even the ten minutes that takes to reach the destination can lead to a very frustrating few hours of time.

Simple, yet live example of how the environment we live in, influences us. Of course, we can have a mantra something like, “I will be happy. Nothing can spoil my mood or the day ahead. I will be relaxed and calm. I will smile and move ahead..” blah blah.. whatever works! But, this never worked for me.

What a waste!

Need some inspiration – to draw out the hidden thoughts from the rusty corners of my mind. Words refuse to form sentences and the shackles holding my brain refuse to break and let go. The intermittent flashes of sense just about evaporates at the thought of “self-time”. As I struggle to form coherent thoughts that pull me into a protective wrap, I sense a desperate need for freedom. I want to go out and shout at the top of my voice, with not a care for the passer by. I want to stand in the middle of the night – in a down pour and feel the cold water rush through me, cleansing the fiery distaste for sanity. I wish to feel the warmth of the fresh morning coffee on a curvy road, surrounded by mountains and fog and take comfort in the rare luxury of such time in hand. I wish to breathe in the air of fresh blue berry muffins, as the vapor reaches my nose, feel the sense of deliciousness and be lost in the delicacy of the flavor. I wish to sit in peace in the isolation of an island, away from the humdrum and buzz of the city life, where the warmth of the morning sun promises a lovely and relaxed day, in the comforts of my glass house. As the music plays on, I wish to close my eyes and let go of myself into the soothing food for soul and just be lethargic. I wish to have a leisure lunch of tasty food, in the luxury of a cottage inn – take my time chewing it, while the timeless classics and endless romance plays on and I can laugh. I wish to stretch back on the bed – with a smile on my face at the fond memories going back in time and spare a moment for the people I loved and cared. I wish to have a dreamless sleep – free of nightmares –that which unwinds the day’s strain. Ah, how I wish I could clone myself and leave her here, while I travel the galaxies of stars and constellations, exploring the outer space and meeting new life. How I wish I could bury myself in a room full of books, not having a need to eat, drink, sleep and be lost in the world of books. How I wish I could meet people with whom I can have conversation without the care of being offended or offending someone – the unguarded thoughts flipping off the mind, letting go of myself and being free of shackles – of mind and soul!
Why need comforts? Why need things in life that should have some meaning? Could not happiness be found in the insignificant trivialities of mundane? Is finding sanity such luxury? Why have things for the heck of having them, when they offer little comfort? The thoughtlessness of actions, that define the course of life, seemingly difficult to fathom, are not so difficult, once stripped to the bare essentials of truth and classifying the need – necessity and petty. Breaking the shackles is not that difficult either – who cares if I have that cast iron round my leg, that holds me to the pole, when I refuse to move an inch- with or without the cuff? And if I really want to break that manacle – will the cuff stand a chance at the power of my will? No. Yet, the shackles are there – invisible and invincible, held by the figments of imagination that have little clarity.

I sit comfortably, thinking of life and seemingly feel the despair of the monotony that irks me to the core. Am I a part of the herd, guided by the invisible whip of the monthly paychecks – the higher, the greater the dissatisfaction? What, if any, is the point of earning bread and butter through the channels that have so little to offer? Yet, I find myself drawn to the possibility of vision, mine and theirs, together, to make a better product. And I still cling on, in hope of deriving the pleasure in creating something – however repetitive it would be. The process of creation itself a journey towards fulfillment. There is no self-discovery in this process. There is no higher conscience here, that which can be looked up to. Yet, the journey goes on. What a waste!

Inception

Inception – wow! The limitless possibilities of dreams and the dream world are for one and all! Dreams have some rather special way of making one feel, particularly when they can be recollected and relived. And if dreams are an interpretation of our subconscious mind, then, what plays out in the dream as an action sequence can very well be an influencing factor in our day-to-day life. How many times did one get up from a dream only to realize it was hardly ten minutes that one dozed off? But the effect of that dream lasts for some time, particularly if it is a dream that has some significance to an internal conflict. I have had such dreams many a time and have been influenced by them too. And watching “Inception” left me feeling thrilled and excited.

Inception – is about a team that extracts dreams and there by extract certain confidential information from people. The extraction of the dreams is created in an environment where the people are asleep in certain proximity with the help of a sedative and they share a dream world orchestrated by the architect. The killing inside the dream awakens the subject. Extreme pain also awakens the subject, if the sedative is insufficient. Dominic Cobb (Leonardo Dicaprio) is the most sought after extractor, who is approached by a wealthy man, Saito(Wantanabe) who promises the one thing Leonardo desperately craves for, his reunion with his kids, if he inserts an idea into his competitor’s mind. The movie is about the orchestration of this inception.

A visual treat, with amazing screen play and back ground score. The clear demarcation of reality and the dream left me intrigued throughout the movie. The world created in the dream, the figment of imagination by the architect, has quite a few unbelievable visuals – particularly the one fight scene in the hotel lobby left me gaping at the screen. I thoroughly enjoyed the movie from the word GO. A subtle love story, executed brilliantly and conceptually different to the current movies. Demands a re-watch and I will honour its demand soon J. If one finds themselves bewildered despite paying attention for two and half hours, well, it takes sometime to leave an impression, particularly if sci-fi is not in your blood, but otherwise, it is difficult to think that it is a two and half hour movie. The time flies, with the gripping action and the ending – leaving the audience at a cliff hanger – let the imagination fly!

But, just imagine, being manipulated by a “dream snatcher”, not knowing if the idea originated from you or from someone else? Imagine, if the subconscious has become a slave to someone else’s imagination? Shudder! Slightly difficult to digest that thought, but never mind! This movie has some conscience, there is no evil conniving conspirator, to seduce the subconscious and induce the ideas – out there! Your dreams are safe! So, dream away and dream high and fly high!!! And enjoy the movie!

Restless Mind!!!

Wonder what it is to be lonely! Does it mean that one awaits company in the middle of the night, when the eyes refuse to droop and the dreams continue to elude you? Does it mean that one seeks pleasure in the meaningless chatter with trial and errors and find that the world is asleep to keep you entertained? Does it mean flipping the channels from one to nine ninety nine, knowing that there is nothing interesting in the thousand channels that are telecasted and that you are on your own to survive the boredom? Does it mean that the thoughts surrounding your mind in the middle of the night have ten search results in Google and that the vagueness of one’s mind is insufficient for the search engine that requires precise key words? In that middle of the night, apart from the brain not sending the signals that it should probably shutdown for the day, it refuses to co-operate even for the economical and logical words that can provide a few search results to give you company, will that be considered lonely? Complicated thoughts!

When loneliness is a pinnacle, would it be unendurable? When one searches for the sanity of one’s mind in the pleasure of someone else and one requires the happiness of someone to be happy, then yes, it is unendurable! If loneliness is a state of being left to the comfort or discomfort of one’s thoughts, shouldn’t that be intoxicating? But if those thoughts surround the coldness of the night or the cold shoulders of the dear ones, can it be intoxicating? The illusions of the care or warmth of the near and dear ones is a revolting thought when stripped to the bare essentials of reality, yet the illusion is what is craved for. To need, to crave, to yearn, to want – all these are various forms of self-imposed drudgery that requires ruthless execution! In such case, loneliness is certainly a slavery! No wonder loneliness is painful! Yet, how can one forget the most important company? The dear old self? The good old self? The “self” that held you whole when your world is shredded? The “self” that pushed you beyond the pit holes of failed love? The “self” that rushed to assist you when you buckled down at the onset of mirthless life?

Loneliness is only painful when the expectations bar raises beyond reason. And it is unendurable when one forgets the “self” that is of prime importance in life. Thinking for people, whoever they may be, is such a waste of time. Despite the certainty of coming out as selfish and rude, if one enjoys the company of self more than anyone else, then it would be better to enjoy that, than crucify oneself by indulging in the heart games. The crass thoughts of life and death, the gush of blood through veins, the headache and heart ache are completely avoidable, when one trusts oneself and that nothing and no one is bigger than self. Tears are also such a waste – saving them for a better day might perhaps harvest the parched lands! And killing oneself – certainly not required – unless one’s sole purpose in life is to fulfill the obligation of satisfying every Tom, Dick and Harry, who, by the way will NEVER be satisfied.

My mind was conked beyond reason and my endurance, of which I was never proud, just about evaporated. When I cannot live with the consequences of my conscientious choices, then, I have no claim to cry “pain” and if that is what I get, for being me, well, the thoughts are not worth it. There are only so many people I let into my life and there are only handful who get to see the real me, and if they wish to toy with my emotions, well, what can I say? That mistakes merely make me human? But then, don’t blame me if the stage gets too hot. When it comes to self-preservation, there is no one colder than me!

Things from past...

My grandfather is an icon to me. He is a legend who continues to inspire me, despite my indiscipline in my day-to-day life. And last night, the sweet pillow talks (NOT with my husband!) with my grand mother gave another small opening into the person he was. And this was a side I would never ever believe existed, not to my grand father and if someone else would have told me the same story, including my mom, I would have brushed it off as her fantasy! (Oh yes, my mom has a way of telling stories – those are for some other time!).

My grand parents stayed in Mumbai (Bombay then) during the initial days of their marriage, as grand pa was posted there. It seems that some of the days he used to cook food for her! (guffaww!!! I mean – late 50s, who would believe it? But then, I guess, guys then are much more romantic than the 20 or 30 something people now!). Though my grand pa culinary skills are not something to be talked about (Mind you, this is the statement from my grand ma, not me, though I would not put too much trust into that, for she does not like anyone’s cooking apart from herself and her sisters!)… he used to make break fast and morning coffee for her and spend a few minutes having it along with her, before he started the main course! It seems that his favourite was Dal rice and more often than not he made that, or may be, that is the easiest to make! ;)! Whatever, but still, he made an effort to do it for her and the kids in the house! How fab! It seems that every Sunday, he would take her out to an outside lunch and a movie and then follow it up with a walk into the fish market to pick up fish!

Now, I had a tough time imagining this, for I have never NEVER seen him enter kitchen, forget about cooking! And in all the talks I ever had with him, he said that it is a woman’s responsibility to handle the kitchen and kitchen is the place, where even the most dominant man has to submit to his wife. I confronted my mom about this in the morning, asking her if she remembered her dad cooking food for her, which she vehemently denied, saying, “My dad? In kitchen?!” – well, what can I say, I cannot agree that this is a figment of my imagination! She did agree to the fact that they went out every Sunday, leaving them in the neighbour’s house or locking them in the house! “Oh, they used to enjoy a lot! Any holiday and any weekend, they had the time of their lives!” Hmm…

Perhaps – the novelty in the relation lasted long or perhaps, the love lasted! Who knows! Over the years I have watched them grow old, I know that he cared for her more than he cared for himself! I know that he ached when she ached and I know that he lulled her when she had her tiffs with her kids and I know he held her comfortably when she was tired, running behind me all day! Of course, that cuddle had me in his arms too!!! There is something about a strong shoulder to lean on – knowing that the world’s largest monsters cannot move him an inch, if there ever comes a point where they want to swallow me or grand ma! Hehehehe! Oh Grand pa, how I miss you and your words of wisdom! Perhaps, now, even more – especially since I started this new journey with a person whose interests and ideas are so far from mine! They are like galaxies away – like yours and grand ma’s! but I guess, the commitment you people had to make it work - kudos for that! I know through your words that your life was made easy with her presence and had she not been as supportive as she was – to leave her comfort zone and move into a whole new world – not knowing the language, not knowing the place – yet willing to travel with you – leaving everyone she loved behind, to make her world with you, it would have been a difficult shuffle between family, commute and your job! I cannot imagine if I would ever be willing to make such offerings in my life, however! May be that is the difference between the generations! That the woman in the relationships now has more voice, more interests and definite set of goals, for which marriage is more of a hindrance than a scaffold that pushes her forward! Perhaps the same holds good for the guys too! but if the guys are old fashioned who believe that they should be the head of the family and their decision is final and that they need to take care of their family for every nook and cranny, few would say –it is romantic, I would say- it is depressing – particularly when the girl is independent – to have her wings cut out and feel like a jail bird. Knowing that it is not her place to make the choices and feeling that she is staying as a mistress in the house in which she should have been a Queen. She might just survive, but it would eventually kill the relationship when mere strangers exist in the house hold than wife and husband! But that is the trend of the relationships where the compromise act does not seem to have any meaning these days!

Anyway, the intricacies of relations are too early for me to fathom. For now, let me bask in the beauty of the love my grand parents and parents shared – as I continue to listen to their tales of love as they continue their journey through life!

Please make me whole again

DISCLAIMER: This is a letter written by a lover to her love... A thought that came in the middle of a night - not intended for any one.

*****************

Restless night, as the hand inevitably moves to switch on the laptop and the thoughts inadvertently fling into the shallow mists of the midnight, I try to gather my thoughts that seem to befuddle me. I sit here at my table, at one O clock in the night, reminiscing the days that started my journey into the world of love. The days I waited for you, to welcome you after your tired day at work. Despite working overtime or boggled by work, the thought of you filled me with a vigour that helped me get through the day. Knowing that we had the night to ourselves, knowing that I can confess my fears, desires, thoughts and foolishness with you and knowing that I would not be judged, but would be embraced into the warmth of your hands, into you – wow, that sense of satisfaction is deep.

I know that I would get a bashing for being awake at the late hour, but I also know that the anger would only last a minute, before you engulf me into a hug that tingles me from the spine and wells up my heart with the glow that only you could give. Dear, I love you so much. Sometimes I wonder, if you really knew how much I love you, how very much I am obsessed with you, how very much I yearn to belong to you – to be owned, to be ruptured, to be shattered, to be torn, to be moulded, to be loved, by you. As long as you are in the equation, the hurt, the anger, the bliss and the solitude, all are acceptable. Do you understand all that? To know that you can break me into a million pieces by just ignoring me? That you could kill me with your look of disdain? With you around, the world seems small and not enough to tuck you and hide you away, for me to cherish and relish you and with you away, the world seems magnanimous.

Dearest… the endearment rolls off easily, before I wonder if I still have the right to call you that. Will you forgive me, for breaking a promise? A promise of living my life? But then, you are my life, my dear, the life you took away with you. I cannot help but feel empty inside, when all the insides ache with the thought of you, when every nerve craves for your voice, when every brain cell screams your name – how can I conceive a thought for myself, to even begin living my life? I cannot end this pain – you know that, don’t you? For, in this pain, you are the most closest to me. In the tempest of the rupture, I find my haven, knowing that the anguish is the reality of my love.

You leave me restless here, the waiting long and painful. The thought of you consumes me so very completely that every other thought just seems insignificant, every relation seems insignificant, yet, I know I am just a tiny portion of your life. Yours don’t stop when I do not exist in it, while mine ceased existing when you turned your back. Yet, here I wait – in the hope that one day you shall realize, that we are bound forever, within the realms of my heart – where the shrine built for you shall remain as a crowning glory to the “you” I fell in love with.

Please make me whole again, my dear… 
Yours forever…

Random Thoughts...

After a very long time , I have opened a few websites I frequented as a fresher and it amazes me that I actually lost touch with the innovations happenings around the industry. Today, people are talking about Infrastructure as a Service, Network Attached Memory, 4G. Long gone are the days of commute on foot/two-wheelers – now is the fast forward generation of speed trains and luxury shuttles. And pretty soon it would be a virtual box, with access to anything and everything over thin air! Like the Minority Report. We are talking about Infrastructure as a service and later perhaps, it would be Artificial Resources as Service (What do you say? I wonder if we are really that far from this being a reality – are we not already half way machines with flesh and blood?). The science fiction no longer remains fiction but borders round the reality, as the artificial Intelligence gives way to automated and highly intelligent machines (shudder!!) that can complete the tasks – based on the archival processing of the data and refining approaches that worked well in the past, without any human intervention. One side, it is a proud moment to see that the intelligence has no bounds and that miracles can co-exist with natural events in a miraculously simple way, and on the other side, it is frightening to think about the human reactions to those times. Man being a power-hungry entity, the more chance of acquiring power, the more ruthless his actions shall be: “It is purely business, nothing personal!”

But, for now, let me just mask in the glory of the innovations that are coming out into the market and will rule the future market – to virtualization – cloud computing… and perhaps to more focused and productive and short office hours than laborious, inefficient long hours!

Commuting On Cab!

As the vehicle weaves in and out of traffic at a speed of 60kmph - 80kmph in fifth gear, with the sudden breaks and the roller-coaster rides, the little life in me almost chokes in the throat and as my heart threatens to stop, I hold on to the support gear near the door and try not to cringe at the oncoming traffic. The driver, however is least affected by my antiques or the conversation behind me, where people sarcastically remark that there really is no hurry and that they want to reach the destination alive! Every morning - as the cool breeze rushes through my hair, I close my eyes and try to catch some sleep, only -the driver has other ideas about his passengers sleeping - perhaps because he does not have the luxury of closing his eyes while driving (LOL), he either applies a sudden break or takes a rash turn to the right or left. Oh, my driver is expert on cuts too… So obviously, I cannot sleep, which frustrates me to no end - as the speed is not convenient to read a book either. So basically the hour in the morning and evening is a total waste. And the evening is all together another matter, where the traffic continues to pile on and the 101.9FM radio gives a load of crap as conversation –this seriously drives me crazy. I cannot pick between the irk caused by the FM radio blabber and the driver’s hurry to complete his job. The narrow cuts and the no-care for the traffic rules are seriously irritating. But it is almost a comical watch when the vehicles move out of the way, almost in respect to this cab. I keep thinking that a royal heir is passing through the streets and that the traffic is a standstill, almost like a procession and waiting for it to pass, before resuming their life. Oh dear! It helps me to think that I would get out of the cab soon enough and that mine is the first stop – thankfully and the last board onto the cab!




Speed is fun when on an empty road – but it seriously is a pain, when you are worried, not just about your safety, but that of the people on the road and the fellow companions. But this is another experience to share and I being a very timid person might have exaggerated on the threat of life – but seriously, what if the break does fail? Or the other fellows vehicle stops in the middle of the road or another crazy cab driver or for that matter, a bus driver tends to overtake the cab and misjudges the distance and the speed? Law of nature- nothing ever is definite . So, despite my exaggeration, there tends to be a genuine concern on my part over the well being of people around me! Anyway, this cab drive thrills and adventures are short lived as we move out to a different work area and commute by bus, however, the bus drivers are not any better! Hmpf!

A Journal: Coorg - April 2010

With too much time to spare, the whim of a tour took off a mile a minute and materialized on the Saturday. Set and eager to enjoy the first ever planed vacation, I looked forward to having a quiet time, away from the countless hurdles that seem to amass with every step I take. Anyway, the tour required a hop stop at Bangalore and my first impression was, “Dirty!”, but then, I shall leave my impressions of her until I am better equipped with information by spending a date with her. For now, Bangalore was a strut in our journey to Coorg.

The journey to a destination is what makes the ride worthwhile, but the journey to Coorg was tiring and very frustrating. As we boarded the bus to Coorg, I plugged in my ipod, with less hope of staying awake throughout the journey, yet the second half of the journey, I was fighting nausea and just praying we would get down the damn bus fast. Bus rides are not my favourite and obviously, the choice of transport was not really good. When I stepped off the bus, it was such a relief, my legs almost gave away in the groan of satisfaction. And then there was the cab ride to the resort. That, I thoroughly enjoyed, perhaps because of the slight breeze that rushed past me. The resort was something at least. Kadkani resort, secluded and isolated, it was perfect in its own way. Surrounded by the tea plantations and with the Cauvery river on its one side, the resort was situated amidst the tranquillity and serenity of nature.

The cottage we booked was named Blue Maria, unsure of its origins and the reason why it was named so, but it had what is required and a little more. A walk around the resort gave me an impression that it is not that huge. The heat, however was exceptionally irritating. We decided to tour the place the next day and take the day after that off and enjoy the resort and so we planned with the lady at the reception, asking her about the places that need to be visited and booked a cab. Next day, bright and ready and raring to go, we had our breakfast and started on our introduction to Coorg. First impressions were that the place could be better maintained. I keep wondering why our government does not care much for tourism. It makes me sad to realize that the facilities, food and roads, are all bare minimum and in few places, worse. As we snaked through the route to Madikeri, towards the Raja seat, the scenic view was one heck of a beauty. The up hill drive, the long lush green patches, the intermittent horns of other vehicles and the unavoidable heat – all were part of the journey, yet the place, offered beautiful panoramic view which was simply breathtaking. The next place we visited was Nisargadhama (Bamboo forest I guess) was what made the trip worth while. Walking through the hanging bridge and splashing in the flowing Cauvery and slipping through the slippery rocks, the one hour revamped the entire tiredness of the whole trip and made the heat bearable. Watching kids swim in the river and seeing my friend enjoy herself in the flow of the river was simply amazing. After satiating our interest in that, we paid little attention to the remaining place and walked out. We had lunch that can only be said as filling and nothing more, void of taste and almost made me cringe at the fact that it would almost be at least another three days before I had anything that can be called food. Lesson learnt is that you better be willing to survive on bread and jam and coffee when you are out. Next we set out to the golden temple and that was a vision of its own. I simply fell in love with the place. Just the calmness of the Tibetian monastery soothed my senses. Walking through the entire monastery and trying to decipher their culture without much success, I just enjoyed the moment and gave myself the luxury of basking in the serenity of the monastery. Then we went rafting in Dubare, that was cool and tiring, but well worth it. I thoroughly enjoyed the boat ride with the too friendly native Rajesh who was our guide/main rafter. The unguarded bits of thoughts that flew past me and the relative simplicity of chatting with a stranger that would have once had me tongue-tied gave me a jolt of surprise as I realized that this is what I have been missing most, the almost free bits of thoughts without a care or thought for the future, just cherishing the moment in its true sense. Perhaps, that one reason helped me enjoy the rafting. The scenic beauty of the place left me speechless again. After a half hour of this water adventure, we travelled back to our resort and just about wrapped ourselves in bed.

The next day we got up at leisure and after the yesterday’s adventure with food, I decided to quit experimenting and have bread and jam. While I asked the cook to give me bread and jam, he insisted on giving a native speciality called “Paputtu” and “potato curry – coorg style”. I had my doubts about it, though. My friend was inclined towards experimenting however and took the brave step of tasting it, while I made myself a strong cup of coffee and sat in the sofa next to her. After she gave a grade-A to the Paputtu, I too tried it and loved it. So yeah, if anyone ever goes to Coorg, please do try this out ;). After the breakfast and after flipping through the channels for sometime, we decided to get ready and roam around the resort. We walked around, taking few snaps along the way. the resort has the Cauvery river on one of its side and we went rafting in it. WOW!!! That was just wow! The dull rush of the river and the noise as it sliced through the rocks has such a soothing effect on the ears that I just closed my eyes and embraced the peace. The cool breeze coming off the waves and the greenery around us put me into a different mood all together. After an hour of rafting, we sat on the little rocks that guarded the section of the lake that deepens – one of the nature’s mysterious gifts to the humans, I guess. As the rush of the waves gave us a back ground music and the cold water washed our feet, we had out moments of bliss. When I say I have thoroughly enjoyed the few minutes we spent on those rocks, I am speaking for both of us. The journey back towards the resort was also fun – when the guide tried talking us into rope water crossing and a swim in the lake – which we adamantly refused. We had a sumptuous lunch back in the room and passed the time indoors by reading books. In the evening, we played table tennis. While my friend is alright with her game, I am a novice… I enjoyed the game and the conversation and the strange bits of thoughts that came to my mind. While playing the game, I realized – a game is not about winning – but about the attitude. The game is not about the points – but about the ball in the right corner of the table at the right time. It was at that point, I had the strangest line of thoughts that wrapped me so completely, I had tough time focusing and enjoying. The line of thoughts would form a different blog together, if I can ever put that entire swarm of emotion into words. On a separate channel of thought – the game also reminded me all the people I wished were there – to share that moment. It is then, that I realized – trips should be made with a bunch of people – at least trips where activities like these are also a part. Sight seeing can be done solo or with a couple of friends, but games – especially outdoor games require groups of people.

We started the following day, the journey back home. I had my date with the moon that night – as I slept in the bottom side compartment, secluded and alone – gazing into the night sky and the song – “Right here waiting for you” playing in my ears. One such journey came to my mind and as the moon played hide and seek with the clouds and me, I smiled and waited in anticipation for it to peep out again. the wait was always worthwhile as the full moon smiled brilliantly at me, every single time and almost took my breath away. The songs continued down my favourite list – the never ending romance circling the air, as my vivid imagination lurked round the corner, swinging me from one cosy corner to the other and as I flirted with the moon, my heart drifted slowly to the comfort thoughts stored in the corner draw and I slept a dreamless sleep after a very long time. when I woke up – it was dawn and I looked at the passing greenery with relish and happiness as the thoughts of home and the new challenges ahead of me opened a cheerful morning. I never thought I would miss Hyderabad or for that matter – I never realized I love this place so much – but believe me when I say, despite the mad traffic, Hyderabad is a better place than the natives seem to think and it has better food too.

That completed the three day trip to Coorg – an alright place – I would not say that it is a place that will have to be visited, but it is a get away of sorts – if the goal is to relax your soul.

Truths or fakes?

As the new beginning kicks off with tiffs and laughs, there is this tingle of excitement that might lead to contentment in the deepest crevices of the heart, if the sadness of a life altering course does not sit tightly in it already. While the life ahead of me does look promising, the past hovers like an unforgiving menace that wishes for atonement and while the beginning sounds delightful, the nuance of distance with the loved ones does seem quite difficult to accept. Comfort is a luxury that sometimes becomes scarce even between mom and a child, what are other relations, if not trifles? While life offers many courses in dealing with relations, unfortunately every lesson is a whiplash that is every bit harsh and every bit painful, both to the bearer as well as the executioner, yet, those whiplashes come at frequent intervals from the executioner, despite the pain. Despite the care for solidarity, certain things are inevitable in life, like being alone forever. Companionship can be a boon and a curse. While the curses leave a scar, the boons leave hope. A hope that there would be more boons that might come along. Life’s courses offer twists and turns that are unpredictable and yet, they make life interesting. But that unpredictability is often a curse for the impatient, where the pathways into the future hold no meaning and the present is messed up.

Certain dreams are mere curses waiting to unleash as the curtain rises for the performance to begin. The wickedness of the reality sinks in with the rupture of hearts that once cared for each other. While the life extinguishes and the ending looms over, the beginning and end dancing hand in hand, one has to wonder, if it ever was a beginning. While life has no meaning when misery plays an upper hand in relations, few clings are mere strings that are adamant at being cut. They are neither together nor apart, forever circling in the eternal pit of misery and doom. Why do such relations exist? Why do such relations require a beginning if any? When the end spirals down into an endless pit, the vapors of stench and staleness are better than the fresh breath of air that brings agony every waking moment. The wail of the heart echoes deeper and the promises that look fulfilling are mere mirages that exist further from the reach. That is the reality of life that sucks the breath out of you every breathing moment.

Wish there are “undo” buttons in life, that can rewind and erase certain parts that should have been buried deeper than the subtle locks that mind and heart conjure, only then can one have a peace of mind. Love is a myth and it is a fairy tale that exists in the minds of romantic writers and while romance is certainly over rated, the relations that are based on romance are non-existing. Everything in life borders around being fake, including the raw emotion of love, hate, anger and despise.

Obvious Conclusion!!!

“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 because it feels like it. However, all I can do right now is to seek serenity in the cesspool of my thoughts which make no sense, none what so ever.

The journey to paradise is through the twists and turns of a never ending uphill, but who guarantees that the paradise is devoid of the treacherous paths, once reached? Perhaps it has harder ones, those that DEMAND life. But, then, when I am hell bent on reaching paradise and the beyond matters little, why scratch the itch of understanding the beyond? When I walk through the doors of paradise, the loneliness I feel is something that is unavoidable. Despite the musical hums of the wind and the fiery breath of the golden dragons, the fairy tale land, however intriguing holds little charm. Unless I safeguard it with my will, I might lose my way and be lost in the whirlpool of crevices. Yet, I choose to walk through. Is that insanity? Well, may be! But why do mountaineers climb the mountains? Even though the climb to the peak is daunting and a wrong foot hold can be fatal, would they stop? If they did, would we have someone who can lay claim to conquer Mount Everest? Despite the challenges and the difficulties, when passion rules heart and mind, the journey and the difficulties go hand in hand. So, may be, insanity is not so bad, if it is ruled by choice! I lie awake in the night, hoping to make sense of the insanity, only to draw such obvious conclusion!

Alternate path

So unfair to be frustrated on all the wrong reasons, but what would you do when you are forced to face the question that you dread as soon as you get out of the bed? Choices, decisions, life – all seem to stop for a moment, as though my answer has the power to influence the nature’s laws, as though saying a yes, would inevitably spin the world out of control and saying a no would put the world into a topsy turvy ride. Well, technically, my world, as it seems! Despite knowing that roads are blocked and that the only way to proceed further on that road seems to be by choosing an alternate path, it seems so difficult to turn my back, but also ridiculously foolish to stand and stare ahead and hoping some miracle would clear the space enough to move forward. But then, I am not a tiny ingrate, if I seem to count my baggage, I can easily weigh as much as a truck and wouldn’t it be a little exaggeration to hope for a miracle that shall blast all these boulders and create a way for me and my truck? Well, now since I do not believe in miracles, I will have to make do with unloading the cargo and carrying what is essential for this round trip and hopefully gather the essentials along the way! My so called cargo has so much of my past in it that I need not really worry about literally dumping all of it and just picking up a new path and proceeding barefoot. May be the amnesia might be rather difficult to cope, since I might not really understand the directions, but, what the heck, how different would it be anyway?

To somewhere.....

Sometimes and mostly, all the time, there is this sense of urgency, to reach somewhere. Somewhere is such a lucrative word, isn’t it? No committed endeavors forcing your pace and no envisioned dreams, pushing your adrenaline to an all time high. The bliss of that carelessness and the challenge of the unknown shifted the continuous momentum to a journey of locking horns with fate.

There is this sense of void, particularly since I am about to reach a destination, a stop in the flow. I am tuning myself to accept that stop, but the journey to that stop is filled with fond memories that are difficult to leave behind. The innocence that started the journey, to the ecstasy that seem to have rubbed off on me, as I experienced the thrill and facts of the fanciful ride, as the clouds shifted and the mist cleared and the sun simmered through, brought in a sense of joy and pride, with every step, forward and backward. The urge to explore myself and the sense of reality all bare, I suddenly found myself stripped naked through the inhibitions of a glorified target. The learning that began with an unlearning and the self discovery that pushed past the inhibitions moulded me to be a better professional and a better person. This phase, the core of me, is not a blazing inferno, just a warm fire that cozies my inner soul and lulls me to a sense of tranquillity and as the yellow sun turns mellow, I inch closer to feel the heat again. I need to raise the bar and push beyond these immediate boundaries, to step closer to a pinnacle that wilfully and whimsically eludes me. And thus, I begin my journey to a land unknown. There is this sense of void in me that is difficult to fathom. And as words elude me today, I can only hope that the journey forward shall be filled with challenges that shall mould me to better myself with every step I take.

When I started on this path a good four and half years ago, I was timid and shy. I remember walking through the gates and taking the test, waiting anxiously for the results to be out. The earlier half hearted attempts at finding a career all seemed to push me with a vengeance as I realized I cannot wallow in the excuse of selfishness. As I took the reins of my life in hand and asked of myself to make a decent attempt, the door seem to have opened and it was like life giving me a chance at redemption. As the rounds cleared and I walked into the office, my first day of my professional career, I was late on my first day, thanks to the beliefs of customs that asked me to step into the office at a certain hour!!! I remember having the HR induction and I was pointed at, out of the blue, asking me what my goal was. I remember saying, very timidly, “I want to be the best software engineer I can be”. The HR looked at the class and said, “That is such a simple statement, yet it speaks something about her. She said, she wants to be the best SHE CAN BE. A lot of promise in that statement.” I remember feeling extremely conscious, as I looked her in the eyes and firmly repeated to myself, “I will be.” Now, I don’t know if I seemed to have made any difference to the organization, but I can vouch confidently that I never slacked in my effort and the promises I made to myself, albeit with little hiccups, were fulfilled.

Now, I am taking another step forward. With the incomplete thoughts in my head, I need a little more than ambition to survive in the field. And I intend to do that. I intend to better myself and detach myself of the emotional involvement I seem to have had so far. That would be a difficult promise to keep, for I cannot put myself into something when my heart and mind are not in sync and when heart is involved, there is always an emotional commitment. One hand, it is not so bad, but sometimes, it could be a terrible lapse of judgement where I could make mistakes that could cost me opportunities and push me into despair of making fatal judgements. I cannot allow that to happen, which means, I need to allow myself to go back to my journal writing and do a retrospection with a discipline that requires a lot of self control and an immovable faith in my instincts. I intend to make this break count, to firm my resolve. I intend to make the decisions with choices I can live with and that comes with a price I suppose. For now, that is just something I need to accept and hope that the things would eventually fall into place. Just as every stop opens up more choices towards the destination chosen, every choice comes with certain bumps and since I have no way of knowing what turns await the bus I take, I intend to rather focus on the journey and enjoy the path and take it as it comes. So, good luck to me, as I move at a glacial pace towards the goals… or so it seems!!!

Killing me softly...

Who are you, invading my mind?
Your whimsical charms in my hazy sleep,
Turn me mellow.

You torment me with your words,
The seduction passionate and romantic,
The charm irresistible and baffling,
I am caught in the halo of your warmth,
Desperate to hold onto you…

Your smile, lopsided and conspicuous,
The malicious glint in your eyes,
Threatening and challenging,
Warning of the inherent evil,
Yet, your charms are golden,
That melt me in your arms and
The trust in you manifold,
As I precariously step into your world.

The stench of the past,
Revolting and tumultuous,
Yet, your odor, sumptuous and inviting,
I walk through the labyrinth, following you.
Little do I notice, the thorns in the path,
And the carcasses in the corners,
My eyes only for you.

You turn to me, your eyes boring into me,
The smile fixed and the charm on full throttle,
seeking my heart, urging me to rip it out.
The heart in my hands, the blood dripping through the fingers,
I place it at your feet, kneeling infront of you,
Satiated and reverent, at your very presence,
Watching as you pick it up,
Your laugh echoing off the walls,
Ah, the pain, the unbearable pain, as you squish it,
The disbelief in my eyes,
As the life drains out of me,
I implore you to hold me, just once,
In your embrace, my eternal Eden.

The agony, the unbearable agony of your apathy,
A thousand deaths as the life goes out of me,
Oh dear, what have I done?

Why do you have to kill me every day in my dreams?
And why do I wake up, after every death?
A rebirth or a second chance, what is it?
The ingenuity of your torment,
Killing me softly in my dreams,
Yet waking beside me with a smile!!!

Frozen in time...

I wish I can be frozen in time, not breathe, not think, not feel. Just be there, in that timelessness and be lost in the moment of that insanity. I am staring at this piece for the past thirty minutes and it feels like a wish coming true and that I am frozen in time, with no thoughts to bother me. But, alas, that is so not true. My mind works faster and heart even faster, in that, they can force each other to work overtime to gain the sense of time, again!!! I wonder, if there can be volunteers for lab experiments. If yes, I wish I can give them my brain, to do the experiments to compute the logistics of brain waves. I would like to understand mine! And at least, perhaps, in that zone of experimental science, I can find a moment of tranquility! Ah, the extent to which one has to go, to attain a moment’s peace.

It is blissful, this agony, to know, I have none to blame, but me! Trust is such an overrated expression, but, it holds no meaning when it is lost. A misplaced trust can hurt even the super man, what am I, to not feel that heat? But, even as the hurt grays my mind, the weight on my heart just about makes me wish that life is a bit more lenient in its punishments. Is it such a crime, to try and defy my mind? If this is the punishment, then yes, it certainly feels like a crime. 

It is one of those days, where I feel, I need to be invisible or have the super powers to travel miles in a flash. I would run across the globe, a few hundred times, just to exhaust myself and collapse. I wish I can just wrap this entire saga in a cloud and let it float to a distance galaxy, never to return again. Or perhaps, there can be amnesia, where I forget a certain phase of life, never to remember again!!! Better yet, would it not be good to have a switch off button for life? To switch it off when one has no further purpose! I am sure, I am replaceable, none to lament and a place better filled by my absence!

Simple truth

Sometimes I wonder if all that happens is a mere façade, that fades away eventually and what is left, when raw and bare would eventually be revolting. Many times, the paths crossed by the traveling strangers, leave an inexplicable impression which is borne for years to come. These impressions cast out brutal realities and impress the uncertainty of a dream, in that, they are like a trance, offering the fulfillment of lustful desires. But then, few would be like the cast iron realities that promises a lifetime of hell, yet the hold is so powerful that the certainty of doom does not wither the person’s will. That is the way of fate, perhaps! And few would turn out to be paradise, ahhh, how blissful and soulful and how very rare! But it is the deceptive facades that stay the long and turn you inside out and they tend to break the ground brutally and leave the scars, like the strike of lightning on the dear earth. And somehow, these very facades change the very you, making your act a mere façade for all to see. Ah, the callousness of fate!!!

Yet, there will be a point in life, where one questions the mask in the mirror. To break that ice and stand naked, to let the gut know the truth of the act. There lies the courage of the person who can strip to that self and stand through the recurring obscenities and hold the fort and be untouched by the devilish hideousness and redefine oneself to begin the journey, yet again! Every time a trust is broken, a scar is left behind, that which cannot be smoothened by a smile. And neither can you earn that trust back. But the fault does not lie with the person who broke your trust, but in you, in trusting the person and allowing them to hurt you. No one can make you feel what you do not feel, be it the feeling of being used, of being inferior, of being ignored, of being manipulated. That is the simple truth.

A fairy tale - A way of Life

Do we need to learn to love a person? I believe so. Love is not lust, to be instantaneous and sparkling. There might be a phase, where that feeling of need for each other exists, the need to be with the person, in the whispered lullabies or sweet nothings, but, that is just a phase. What would happen when they outgrow that? When the need to hear the sweet nothings, though prominent, is a mere whim of a calculated mind and when the promises of eternal happiness are just a reflection of past, rather than the truths of the moment, does love exist? Perhaps, it does, in some corner, masked in an unassuming cover, in desperate need of dusting and cleaning. Well, then, how would one want to regenerate it? Particularly, how would one fight the urge to just let it go and let it be?

The root cause of the uncertainty in trusting the loved one is because of expectations. Expectation of the partner, to either reciprocate the warmth or the expectation of unconditional love – when that unconditional love itself is an expectation , to be there for that person – when that “be there”, in reality is just a myth created by the mind.
1) Who cares if you are stuck in an unknown road and your partner is happily watching a movie? You can’t expect the partner to have a sixth sense and believe that something is wrong with you and to immediately call you, right?
2) Who cares if you are a nervous wreck for your first official client meeting and your partner could not even call, to wish you good luck? Perhaps, he/she is busy with his/her schedule or more real – “I am not interested in what you do. As long as it is essential for you to do it, just do it” attitude.
3) Who cares if your family is ill? For all you know, why should he/she care about your family? DO you honestly care about his/her family?
4) Who cares if you have not spoken to your partner in over a month? He/She might be exceptionally busy, else your phone would be ringing off the hook!!!
5) Who cares if your friend drops you home and your partner is jealous of him/her? It is his/her mistake that he/she was unavailable to spend that time with you!
6) Who cares if you sit in a coffee day to sip the coffee, your most soothing ingredient and you sit alone and think, wish you had someone with you? When your partner, might be doing exact same thing in some other café day, for all you know!
7) Who cares if you have not had your food and your partner is out partying, knowing damn well that you are not eating food? Or, for that matter, knowing that he/she should have been there to hold your hand to help you get over whatever spooked your heart or mind?

All the above are quite true and also, the “who cares” – is mostly, “I care that my partner does so and so for me”. Aren’t they all expectations or sometimes punishment, depending on the person? Honestly, most of the scenarios could be simply eliminated by asking. Of course, sometimes asking always negates the response. And if you are like me, believe me, the “no” has many swear words associated with it, than you can actually hear and once a “no” is “never ask me again”, for me! But, the want to be embraced does not go. I still remember that my mom has not picked a lemon yellow shade of dress I so loved. I loved it, not because the dress was pretty, but because my friend, who is also my competitor has that color dress and I did not have. My Mom refused to pick it up and till date, I never picked a lemon yellow dress, not alone and certainly not when I am shopping with her. For me, it always reminds me of the color that she did not pick up for me and the first time she said a no. Amidst the humiliation (if I knew what to call the feeling that I felt on that day, when I was twelve, I would definitely call it humiliation – of being told NO when I asked something), I vowed never to ever ask her any thing ever again in my life! I don’t ask, I hint ;). Of course, now I pretty much buy what I want.
Anyway, that is all a moot point. Your partner is not telepathic; they do not know that you need them, full stop. That need not mean they do not love you. Perhaps, they do not know what love means anyway. See, it can be quite confusing if you have over a million sites offering their share of wisdom on love and their versions of definitions of love. But perhaps, in some corner of their minds, they do honestly believe they love you, but don’t know how to express it.

Leaving the above perceptions of partners aside, the biggest role is played by one’s own perception. In hindsight, mostly, it is guaranteed that – it matters not what someone feels for you, it is what you feel for yourself and for that significant other that matters. For, when you care about yourself and you feel that your happiness is bound to that significant person’s happiness, you will eventually find a way to keep that person happy and there by be happy. This sounds so much like a second rate romance saga. But, is that not true? If you truly believe that your happiness is with that person, would you not do what ever is essential to make that person happy –how ever irate it may be? And there by ensure your happiness? But, what if you feel that you do not need that significant other in your life, to make it enriching? Then, that is not the significant other and you better not fool yourself with thinking that he/she is the significant other. Whatever be the problems in life – family, friends, lack of support, lack of courage, lack of guts – the “N” lacks – if you do not feel the need for that other person, you are just fooling yourself in trying to sustain what was never meant to be. It is better to let it go and get on with your life, swallow the heart break and the vows to never hurt yourself again and open yourself up, for that one special knight, who will walk into your life to make the creases smoother and life enriched and who will hold all your fondest dreams to his heart and scares away all the trepidations of your heart and for whom, you are the centre of their universe. Perhaps, life is not a fairy tale, but love certainly is! Love is a fairy tale, the fable all around us, except in the reality of life. But, then, that is the beauty of a fairy tale – the myth is a make believe that creates a yearning that one has to learn to not ponder! Ha, the wily plots unleashed!!!

But then, even after finding that significant other, one has to learn to love. Learn to hold the needs of that person above your own. Learn to work around the inflexibilities of that person and even the roads for that person. Learn to hold your fort when all you feel like doing is crumble down and let everything go to doom. Learn to mask your disappointment and communicate to have a logical conclusion than a heated discussion. Every ditch is a lesson and every tide is an experience. As long as you trust your feeling for that person, let the storm roll in, hold your fort. The reward might not be enriching, as not all can appreciate the presence of love, but, then, that expectation of the reward should be swallowed to never allow it to surface or you will be disappointed, perhaps not the first time you get your expectation fulfilled, but subsequently. That is the way of life!