Thoughts Synchronized

Varied Perspectives!

2019-06-23T22:22:00.000+05:30

Sunset,
For him, was light diminishing,
For her, it was the Stars shining!
For him, it was darkness beginning,
And for her, it was the moonlight spreading!!

Sunset,
For him, it was the time to return to his nest,
For her, it was the hour to get out, dressed her best!
For him, it was a day ending,
And for her, it was hope of a new beginning!!

Because, it's only after a sunset can there before a sunrise,
Because it takes the hardest fall for one to bounce up and rise!!

-HPK

P.S- It's been a long time peeps! Hoping all of you are still around. Please keep your feedback coming! I would love to read them.

FREE FALLING!

2017-01-23T16:35:00.001+05:30

He had tried in all his might, but now had to accept that it wasn’t really that easy to convince her. According to him, she didn’t really make any attempt to come out of her boundaries. He didn’t like the fact that she was guarded all the time. He wanted her to come out of the walls she confined herself in. When she had failed this time too, he had to call it quits.

While walking out on her, for what looked like the last time ever, he exclaimed- “You have built the walls around you, yourself. I am tired of advising that you need to break your boundaries. I can only show you the door, you got to escape through. But, you refuse to take notice of it even. I am done.”

She looked at him through his outburst. One part of her felt she understood every word he said, but yet another did not. It was always clear that he did not approve of her quite demeanor. She knew she was never his type. He expected her to change a lot of her personality and attitude to be accepted. All these while, she worked hard to be just that because it was for the first time, that someone noticed her and tried to help. She wanted to be all that he said. She wanted to change all of her traits just because all she wanted was HIM.

Today, as he walked out, she sat there expressionless. She didn’t know what to make out of this entire episode. It was like a storm had come in out of nowhere and destroyed all that was left of her. She had to gather all shattered pieces of herself to able to function again. Earlier, she probably wasn’t perfect but surely,was at peace with herself. Alas! Now, she was left in utter chaos not knowing what to do with her own self. She was stuck in between both the Worlds.

As she saw him walk away, she wondered if he ever understood her. He was right when he spoke about the walls she had built around her and the limitations she had set to herself. He was accurate when he claimed that she is the only one who can break it too. But, he was wrong when he spoke about the doors through which she could escape. That is because, there never was even a window, forget the door. She had built the wall not from fancy marbles, but with every brick thrown at her. She had ensured that there was no outlet for anyone to barge in. To get out of it she had to struggle her way up the wall. What he didn’t understand was that building the walls itself was her escape plan. If she ever tried breaking out, it was only for him. It wasn’t as simple a walking out of a door. She had to struggle her way up, to get out of it.

Strangely, now she realized that this person had always stood outside the wall and expected her to join him. He never bothered to check what was in offer inside those walls, but assumed it to be a dark dungeon. He never attempted throwing in a ladder. All he did was persuade. Yet, she got carried away. She had tried in all her might, to crawl up the wall. She fell down several times, bruised herself only to rise up again and try. The days she tried hard was when she couldn’t hear him, from the outside. She feared him gone.

Today, she did battle it out finally and crawled up to the walls. She was puzzled when he never offered her the final hand to lift her up. That was all he had to do. Lend his hand and drag her to his world which he called beautiful. Exactly that moment, he had given up. He didn’t understand, what it took for her to crawl out of her world, the world she had built. That day she realized that HE WAS ALWAYS SO FULL OF HIMSELF. She continued looking at him from the thin line between both their worlds, as his silhouette faded away.

All she could do is let out a tear and fall back. It was a freefall. Back into HER bed of RED roses.

From where she saw, it was her paradise.

P.S: I think boundaries don't keep others out, but fences you within.This is dedicated to all those people who have at some point in life felt not in sync with the way things around them work and have set limits for themselves merely as an act of self-protection. Its dedicated to all you people, who are so fiercely loyal that you are willing to take the plunge. To you, who has the courage to stand alone and face the storm. To all you people, who are willing to freefall into nothingness and still find your happiness.

Cosmic Connection!

2016-09-17T16:45:00.002+05:30

She wanted to run. Run away from all the misery. Run away from everyone and everything that once was her LIFE. She wanted to escape it a world unknown. A world with no expectations. A world which didn’t set boundaries. She wanted to just get away into a world which had no agony and distress.

And so she began her escapade. She ran without bothering which road she took. She ran with no destination in mind. She didn’t wait for a second to think about the river she will have to cross or the hill she has to climb. All she did was flee. She crossed the paths shredded with stones and managed to get out of the deep jungles. But, none of these could stop her. She continued despite running out of breath. She neither quenched her thirst nor gave a moment of rest to her worn-out legs.

She ran like never before and like there is never after.

But as she did this, lost in her own woe, she didn’t see the guy running beside her. He tried hard to keep up with her and match her pace. He tried in all his might, for her to see him and kept up with her. When he would manage to get close enough to grab her hand, either her pace would increase or he would slow down. Just like her, nothing could deter him too. He was persistent and wouldn’t let her get away.

Finally, he had to take his leap. A LEAP OF FAITH. He had to take the plunge because it was now or never.And so he did. He took the leap and successfully grabbed her hand. Never to let go. She seemed stubborn initially but he knew she would soon feel the thorns beneath her feet and will stop. He knew she will have to look around and realize that when they both are together, life was beautiful.

She had to see the blooming flowers and not focus on the thorns.

She had to feel the gentle river than worry about the rough waves.

She had to hear the music of the chirping birds and not of the people who cussed.

He wanted her to love the warmth of the Sun without worrying about the coldness that moon brought along.

He wanted her to feel the breeze on her lovely tresses and not tie it up in a bun anymore.

He wanted her to feel so secure when she held his hand that, she would want to stop escaping.

It wasn’t easy at all. When he held her hand, he was taken aback by the force with which she moved forward. He was bothered by her reluctance to bounce back. Yet, he didn’t let go of his grip. After what seemed like eternity, he was successful. But, it took time. Even though she did not hold his hand, she did allow him to hold hers. This was a welcoming sign. The only sign he ever wanted. He knew how to build it on from that very moment.

Because, all along he knew they two were part of a cosmic story.

A story that was yet untold.

Saludos,

HPK!

Myriad of Colours!

2016-05-27T15:47:00.000+05:30

People were scattered around in the large hall murmuring amongst themselves while admiring his painting. Paintings displayed, were of various genres with abstract paintings in the lead. While some huddled in groups to discuss earnestly about it, others contemplated on what to buy.

Like always, he sat in the corner observing them all. He always found it amusing when the guests behaved so sophisticated and came well dressed to a painting exhibition because on the hindsight he would be so messed up and immersed in paints to create the final product. With fine-wine being served, he wondered if this had become more of a social event as majority of them present had absolutely no knowledge about art. Their attending and buying at the event were mere acts of bragging the social status.

He was renowned for Abstract art. When any of his art is sold, he followed a ritual of asking the reason for customer’s indulgence in his painting. Most of the times, his conceptualization of the art would be in no way related to that of the customer. It amazed him on how the creator and receiver could perceive the same art so differently. Having said that, he still listened to the consumer’s perceptions, understood their insights and sometimes couldn’t help but laugh off their assumptions.

This was just one such day. A regular successful day with most of his art already sold until his employee informed that one of his canvas is back on display as the customer has changed her mind. For a moment, he was taken aback, but then the curiosity to know the reason crept up. And off he went to meet her. The lady wasted no time and apologized as soon as he approached her. She mentioned that she was buying it for her 8 year old daughter who loved to paint but was unable to, because of all the medications and hospitalizations. She further added that, her kid was the one who rejected the painting as it was COLORLESS and it made her feel more gloomy.

He couldn’t utter anything more because the word “COLORLESS” had left him flabbergasted. This little girl had managed to strike the right chord of total relevance so effortlessly. He then realized, that all the paintings in this exhibition were only in black and white. In fact, the ones in the making were no different too. Worst of all, he couldn’t recollect the last time he used other colors except for the blacks and whites.

He still couldn’t believe that a little girl had a view which a renowned painter like he did not or probably had lost in time. It was an irony that he was painter. A painter who created dull canvasses. Colors had gone out of his life for a long time now and he had not even noticed it. He soon realized that while monotony had destroyed his creativity, money and fame had diminished his Imagination. Frantically, he went back to his studio and was aghast to find that all the colors he was left with were the two shades of Black and White.

He pondered, how he had stopped noticing the YELLOW and ORANGE shades in sun-rise and sun-set. He neither noticed the BLUE waters his sea facing balcony opened to nor observed the GREENS in his rooftop patio. He had missed watching myriad of colors. From the ravishing RED in the newly blossomed roses to the PURPLE orchid that added to the décor in his living room, he failed to notice it all.

“I can’t let this continue “he murmured to himself. He wanted all the colors back in his life. He wanted them to surround him and block away the dullness of white and black. Without wasting too much time, he went to his loft and got all the colors which remained unused. He spent the entire night painting. Using all the shades, he painted a huge multi-hued rainbow in the wall of his living room. To make it look lively, he let the clouds float and birds flock around the rainbow. Now, there was life in his room.

He was unstoppable. He then grabbed some glass paints and drew angels and butterflies in the huge sliding glass doors of his balcony. This time he did not bother about the money it will fetch or what is it that a customer wants. He just continued painting until his heart filled with ecstasy and contentment which no amount of wealth could match. He continued, until the ray from the rising sun, hit his balcony and filtered through the glass and eventually all his paintings. The golden rays mixed with the shades of the colors from the painting spread across the living room and lit it up in MYRIAD OF COLORS just in a matter of minutes.

He had finally managed to bring all the colors back into his colorless life. He did what he loved. He killed the monotony and relived his Dream. After all, he was a painter. Along with a brush, right colors, his creativity and the PASSION he could even recreate a heaven.

That’s exactly what he did.

HE PAINTED HIS PARADISE AND IN IT, HE WENT.

P.S: The painter in the story is all of us. We all are victims of a life where passion takes a backseat and only Money is of utter importance. Do not let that happen to you. Because it steals you of all the colors which is happiness and contentment your life has to offer.

Do what you love or Love what you do,

HPK!!!

Glow in the Dark!

2015-08-07T18:24:00.000+05:30

She was in a dark tunnel, away from light for such a lengthy time that she could not recollect how much time had passed. It just felt like eternity. It was so long that she had forgotten what LIGHT felt like. She couldn’t reminisce what it felt to sense the WIND. It was DARK for so long that she didn’t recollect a clearer vision. She wondered what it was to have a clear pathway without stones and thorns. She failed to recall a life without agony.

Like always, initially, there was HOPE. HOPE that she will escape the dungeon and have a better life, HOPE that she will discover the LIGHT once more, a HOPE that she could be for once cheerful and carefree. Alas! With passing time and struggle, with isolation and nightmares she didn’t realize as to when HOPE was replaced by FEAR. For her, now HOPE ceased to exist only to swap with FEAR OF THE UNKNOWN.

FEAR of having to permanently live in captivity of negative circumstances, FEAR of being bound to darkness forever, Fear of having only a mere determination in life, that to get out of the chaos. FEAR, that the lines of struggle and creases of pain were now evident in her skin and face. Finally, with the passing time and long ordeal she had reached a juncture, where FEAR too gradually perished.

She couldn’t comprehend how or when, but this dark tunnel had indeed transformed into an entire life. “HER ENTIRE LIFE”. The burrow from which she yearned to get out someday, the darkness she had thought she would fight off, the pain & suffering she thought would in due course subside had sadly turned out to be her entire life.

After the lengthy struggle, she had managed to convince herself that this was the END. She came in terms with reality, got used to the shadow, the coarse path, putrid air and a land without rain. She embraced the life of long enduring pain and trauma only to be stunned to see something awaiting ahead.

She didn’t know as to how it was possible for her to see things clearly in the pathway ahead. But, there it was! When she least expected it or probably did not want it anymore. When HOPE had died and LIFE had lost its meaning, there was the LIGHT! She could see a ray, a ray of sunshine. She could see the greenery, she could feel the wind brushing against her now grey hair.

She was right when she deemed it as THE END! It was an end indeed! But, there was LIGHT at the end of the tunnel. She stepped out of darkness and the light engulfed her. It was a sight to watch.

You really could not tell who wanted whom more. She wanted the LIGHT or did the LIGHT want to shine on her.

P.S: This article is a mere figment of my imagination of how there always will be happiness around albeit hidden. Your struggle may be too lengthy, may seem meaningless and you could succumb to being pessimistic and depressed. But, you just have to go with the flow, be optimistic because you do sooner or later reach a place in Life where there is a very bright LIGHT! LIGHT that will no more diminish.

I do see the ray today! My Ray of Sunshine!

Cheers to Life,

HPK!!!

All that you are!!

2015-06-12T12:26:00.002+05:30

You are not,

The inaccessible shooting star I saw from the park,

Or the magnificent fireworks that sparkles in the sky so dark!

You are not,

The mad rush of a tequila shot with a lime,

Or the smell of a dish garnished with thyme!

You are not,

The colorful rainbow far out of my reach,

Or the delicate sand castles built on a beach!

Instead,

You are the instrumental music I listen to when I am distressed,

You are the soothing cup of tea when I am stressed!

You are my woolen blanket in times that are cold,

You are a priceless jewel, not just ordinary Gold!

You are the gentle wind that brushes through my tresses,

You are everything I need and in abundance!!!

P.S: Four years into wedding, A blog was the least of the things I could dedicate to my husband;)

Happy Anniversary to both of us,
Haritha :)

An ode to Kindness

2015-05-16T13:10:00.001+05:30

How would you like to be amongst people who are kind and generous? Great, isn't it? People who go in lengths to make you feel comfortable, who do not have a word “NO” in their dictionary? It would be awesome. Life will be uncomplicated. But, there is something that irks me about kindness. Something about it is very difficult.

A little kindness will surely feel nice. Then a little more of it, could invariably be a part of you or your personality. But, after a point wouldn't you expect kindness in return? Believe, me there are some who can be astonishingly unselfish. The ones who do not believe in this concept of return on investment. Others negligence somehow doesn't bother them but it infuriates me to see their kindness being taken for granted.

It bothers me how undeterred can these ‘KIND’ people be. Taking setbacks time after time and yet continue facing all the odds with a smile. Sometimes not being taken seriously enough because at the fag end its understood that this person will not create any fuss. Most of us probably are the ones who “return the sentiment”. I for one, will always be a mirror image of who you are to me. You are kind I will be extremely sensitive to you. You mess up? Then I would ensure to make you feel the same. Why, you ask? Because that is the most easy way to move on, according to me.

What does you continue being kind despite knowing that people around you are a little meaner, a little more selfish, make you? I worry about this all the time for that one person. Does that make this person a fall guy? Some people you come across are so virtuous that I worry if they will get all the goodness in return. I fear that these people who do not realize that their goodness will be forgotten amongst selfishness, jealousy and greed. They do not realize that world can be a mean place not because they are low on intelligence or impractical, but because they genuinely have a good heart. I wonder how they manage to keep their innocence at bay in this cruel world.

Even though I find it difficult to see them being nice, I guess their goodness does weave some magic in me. When I find the world nasty and callous, their conviction allows me to see the other side of the coin. When I worry being taken for granted, their presence reassures me that you can certainly be above these trivial things. When I opine that my goodness may not be returned their actions reminds me that it will never go wasted.

I believe they are like those fragile beautiful roses that somehow willfully forget being surrounded by thorns. They bloom beautifully and spread their fragrance. But, fail to realize that slowly they will be exhausted, fade and eventually wither away. And, it will be the thorns that triumph.

I worry for them, watch their every move to be able to warn them about the danger that lies ahead. Meanwhile, they astonish me with the strength they have in them to be untouched by this cold-hearted world. They remind me that it’s easier being kind without regret than react only because one worries getting hurt. They assure me that it is all about spreading love and that I would get it back in ten folds. They remind me that it is about how warm you make people around you feel. For, it is only then that there will be some goodness left.

They remind me that in being a little more empathetic and sensitive your loved ones will know how much you love them, in case the sun would not rise tomorrow.

Thanking that one person for helping me cherish the goodness in me,

HPK!!!

Intricate thoughts# 7

2015-05-11T11:08:00.001+05:30

‘Grieving is very important’, she said.Vital to remain sane. She claimed it is a proof that she has let it go, let it pass. It’s an indication that she has accepted the harsh reality. The kid remained silent. Nodded his head. He was too young to even comprehend what he was being told. Now, it was another’s turn to console him on the loss of a loved one. They advised on how he should remain strong. He hung his head down staring at the ground, impassive.

Hundreds came and left. Some spoke in lengths others advised. Some cried hugging him, others just patted and walked away.

At night as he lay wide awake staring at the ceiling, inexpressive, he wondered whom is it that he should grieve for. The parent he lost or himself for having to live without them?

Just like the kid in the narration above, I often wonder, whom is it that one grieves for? Is it for the loved one on how his/her dreams will always remain incomplete? Or, is it for oneself on how can we continue living in their absence?

Do we grieve for that person saddened on how soon had death embraced them? Or, do we sympathize ourselves on why do we have to go through all this?

It is 99% always about us, isn’t it?

Mostly, we feel distraught about our own situation than of the person who actually passed away. We miss what they would have said, we miss what they would have cooked and we miss how much we would have been loved and cared for. We would not miss advising them but what they would have told. We would not miss accompanying them but being accompanied. We would not miss on how they would have been happy around us but vice versa.

Is functioning this way, being selfish? Or is it just another miserable trait of being human?

Do you have a take on this?

-HPK!!!

An open letter to the entire team of My body, My Mind, My choice!

2015-04-01T18:04:00.002+05:30

Oh! I so loved the way this video was taken. Unconventional and Eccentric. My favorite scene in the video has to be the last one with Deepika’s hair acting against the gravity quoting ‘I am the universe Infinite in every direction.’ I loved most of the lyrics but the ones I despised were probably the ones that if fine-tuned could make a deeper impact.

I totally approve when the video claims that the clothes you wear or the size you are, is all your own choice. This makes total sense because there have been many occasions when I have dressed as expected by others and ended up feeling annoyed at them and myself. I have already come to an understanding that their mind is caged and that I will not let mine be, despite knowing that this is a struggle that I will have to endure.

One’s partner is one’s choice. Irrespective of the fact that you are a Female, Male or a third gender, whom you choose as your partner is totally your choice. The gender of the person you love or you will marry too is your choice. People will have opinions, suggestions and advice but the bottom-line is that it is always your choice.

I am on the same page as you when you state that the Bindi, the surname change (Which I never did and was never asked to) are all signs of oppression. There are girls who are happy doing it, go ahead. But do not judge the women who do not abide by it. I don’t trust that my husband’s well-being is decided by the ornament I wear on my neck. Because if that is so, it should apply to him. The chain exchanged in the wedding should decide the fate of both. Why mine alone? These are just not my cup of tea. If it is yours. Drink it. I will never judge you.

Getting married or not; Being in a live-in or not; having a baby after marriage or not having it at all, is certainly a choice. But, never mine alone. It is also my partner’s. Love and respect is of relevance too, isn't it? This is where the video went wrong.

If it is my choice to have an affair outside my marriage, what in the world will stop him?

If I choose to love him temporarily, what role does honesty play in a relationship?

If he is my choice out of 7 billion, why am I forgetting that I need to be chosen by him too?

I might be the urban woman who do not believe in the Bindi and Mangalsutra ways. But, that doesn't shake my belief from the institution of marriage. If I demand to be respected and loved, I owe the same to my partner. There is no second thought about it. I cannot have my ways and call him a male chauvinist when he tries to have his own.

On one hand, Mr Homi Adjania, chose to make a movie like Cocktail which proclaims that a guy is the one who always chooses. Out of the two, he chooses the girl who doesn't really make her own choices as opposed to the one who is tagged outrageous for living life her way. And on the other hand, he makes a video like this for Vogue that it is all about the choices of a woman. Or, so he claims. There is a lengthy celebrity list who rendered their support to this video and some have told all who oppose this video to ‘go get a life’. Seriously??? I am not trying to bring in any emotional point of Indian culture in here. It doesn't matter to anybody how many people you have a relationship with or the number of people you marry. But, it does matter to that partner of yours. You are accountable and loyal to him just as much as he is liable.

I was worried if this women empowerment jargon was off late becoming more of a statement than a serious social concern. With the above video, my fears have become a reality. There is a rebellious wave that is generated in the social media that I have been noting. All of a sudden, everybody seems to have an opinion on everything, which is good, but only if done with thorough introspection. Videos like this, doesn't make any sense and would only lead to a downfall with our youth believing in it.

It is indeed my body, my mind and my choice. But, why overlook his preferences calling it women empowerment?

If I, expect to be treated right, I got to treat him correct too.

If I, expect to be given freedom, I have to know what it essentially means.

If I, expect to have a loyal partner, I need to learn that there somewhere lies a give and seek policy to it.

As far as individual self is concerned, nothing can come in the way of your video but when you talk relationship there are two parties and mutual consent is essential. The video missed the crux, when it spoke of relationships or marriage. Loyalty, Honesty, Respect are all the foundations. You do not necessarily have to be a Man or a Woman to abide by it.

Feminism is never ever about demeaning the other gender, but about ensuring both of them have equal privileges.

P.S: Lots of articles are written attacking Deepika Padukone. Just want to bring it to your notice that she is just one of the 99 faces you see in the video. Do not hold her alone responsible.

-HPK!!!

Diwali's aftermath

2014-10-25T15:51:00.001+05:30

“Diwali is

A festival of lights,

When good won over the evil,

When the right outdid the wrong,

When the light outshined the darkness,

When the demons were defeated.

A festival of colors,

When everything is bright and positive,

When the lamps rekindle the faith,

When there is sweetness in food and talks,

When there are celebrations all around.”

These pictures are taken on the day of Diwali. Everything feels so vibrant and vivacious. If this is what the festival is all about, then what is wrong with the picture below?

Diwali Aftermath

Somebody said- "A picture speaks a thousand words." I wonder how many words it would be if you were to compare the two pictures above. How much ever you want the first picture to be represent your Diwali celebration, the second one comes in the same package. In Bangalore, driving during Diwali is almost like entering an area full of land mines. It can set off when you least expect. Despite this, people who do not believe in crackers can still be large hearted and say this all just a part of festival.

We are a strange bunch of people. Speak about a change and others will get the emotion of tradition and culture leaving you with no choice than to shut up. Well, I really doubt if the second picture has to do anything with our tradition. It is funny but you clean every nook and corner of your house for days inviting Goddess Lakshmi only to later turn around and dirty the entire locality you reside in with toxic wastes. For now, forget the poison in the air, there is nothing we can do about it apart from the fact that crackers are banned forever which is not going to happen in the near future. But, the wastes from diyas and crackers can be easily disposed. Alas! The irresponsible citizens that we are, we choose not to do so.

If this is the aftermath of a festival celebration in our country, I would rather not have a festival like this. To claim, that it is a festival of lights and colors all sounds very fancy and probably appealing, but to profess that you stay in a clean India will never be a reality with irresponsible citizens like all of us.

Maintaining tidiness is as important as you teach your kids to be safe with crackers.

Own and clean up your mess,

Happy, safe and a CLEAN Diwali!

HPK!!!

An open Letter to 'The Times of India'

2014-09-19T16:27:00.001+05:30

To figure out what my blog is all about, you need to check this article by Ms. Shiba Kurian. This article was published in “Times of India” early this year. It is one of the worst drafted articles a leading newspaper like TOI could print.

To,

Ms. Shiba Kurian,

Reporter

The Times Of India.

Even before I put forth my opinions about your article or why was I astounded to read it, I want to make it crystal clear that neither do I support any of the crimes stated in the article nor do I claim that this particular state is free of such crimes. I totally stand by my prior article of Delhi rape case and maintain the fact that the men who commit such ghastly crime should be hanged till death.

But, what I disapprove of in this article is the content and the title in itself! I believe in the saying “Pen is mightier than sword”. Hence, I would like to remind you that you have this intangible power of creating and changing perceptions since you are a reporter. I strongly recommend you to use it for the better. Accusing the criminal is one thing (the right thing) but questioning all the men who belong to that particular region is bizarre. Further, pointing out that these men are mentally ill, indulge in alcohol and according to some person’s perspective all men in Kerala treat women as sex object is absolutely ridiculous and absurd!

These are the points you have to keep in mind:

Firstly, being mentally unstable isn’t limited to one region.

Secondly, neither do all rapists consume alcohol when they indulge the crime nor do all who consume alcohol commit rape.

Thirdly, a criminal is not directly proportional to the entire population of that state.

Going by the lucidity in your article, one can easily claim that all Muslims are terrorists and that all Bihari men can commit rape effortlessly (Men accused in Delhi rape was from Bihar). This is just a judgment which an uneducated and irresponsible citizen can pass. As a refined citizen, you have to educate others on how not to stereotype. It is us YOUTH who have to change the historical way of thinking so that the generation next have a mind of their own and do not take sides based on the ethnicity, race, religion of another. But this article is of such poor eminence!

Neither, do I claim that people with mental instability do not live in Kerala or that alcohol consumption isn’t on the rise nor that all men treat women equally in that province. But, don’t these facts prevail in every society? It is the criminal’s immorality, low values and evilness that have to be emphasized as opposed to the place to which he belongs.

Well! The actual fact is-

Lots of cases pertaining to Rape go unregistered!

Several criminals are roaming free unnoticed!

Heaps of registered cases still lie in an old file, covered with dust; its pages worn out waiting to be attended!

And so are the moist eyes of the victims waiting to hear that her offender is finally punished!

As a reporter, your determination should be to work towards building a better nation where there is no room for stereotypes but your article clearly fails to do so. All the statistics you have mentioned is a waste when you conclude that it is more to do with alcoholism and mental instability.

It could be a twist of fate that you have written an article on Malayali men and I speak the same dialect. Having said that, I will maintain that this blog would have been addressed to you even otherwise. I strongly urge Times of India and other social media to discourage such articles since if this was to be right, then there will soon be a claim that entire gender of Men are personally responsible for such ghastly crimes.

Speak up,

HPK!!!

Inconspicuous Silence!

2014-08-26T16:30:00.000+05:30

The beautiful hostess was dressed in an elegant flowing dark green gown with minimal golden floral work on it. She paired it up with heavy golden chandeliers (ear rings). Her hair was shiny wine-red and flowed effortlessly up till her waist curling at the edges. However, the big diamond ring on her finger lured everybody who attended the party hosted by one of the elite businessman in their city. He was well-known for conducting extravagant parties. This was mainly held for having successfully registered an NGO for women empowerment. All people well-educated, rich and famous had gathered. Nevertheless, none of them shared a good camaraderie with the hostess. The guests always felt that hostess was conceited and snobbish.

Some stated that she was younger to her husband by ten years while others argued it was twelve. They all thought of her as egotistical since she hardly greeted or welcomed the guests. Moreover, this day was supposed to be special since the party was held at their residence but she didn't bother to smile at people around.

While the ladies envied her, men craved for her attention. Ladies sympathized with her husband for having to tolerate her and the men were convinced that she will be easily available. Some women were happy to notice that her beauty is slowly fading away. She was by now used to these rants, gossips and unwelcomed stares from people and it did not bother her anymore. She very well knew that the precious rock in her finger would this time succeed in creating many more of gossip mongers around her. Lost in her own world, seated in a corner she sipped through the wine waiting patiently for the party to end and everybody to leave. Likewise, they all left thanking her husband.

As soon as she realized that the last guest left, she hurried to her room. Once done changing, she sat before the huge gold quoted antique dressing mirror and removed her make up gently. She sighed looking at herself trying to control the tears. The wrinkles on her face and dark circles around the eyes made her look much older. She kept staring at all the marks on her face. Reddish abrasions and bluish wounds were pretty obvious now that her make-up was undone. Finally, she removed her wig and stared at her receding hairline. She had lost quite a lot of hair. Her body was covered up with injuries, lesions and scars.

Minutes later, she heard some footsteps coming up the staircase. A shiver ran down her spine when she realized that her drunken husband is coming towards the room. She gathered up all the courage, ran towards the door and slammed it shut. Sweating profusely with nervousness she double checked if she had secured the door. She ran to the corner of her room, hiding between the bed and the wall. Today, she knew she had an upper hand as he was totally drunk and wouldn't be able to overpower her or force her into anything that she was unwilling to do. She sighed at the irony that he who owns an NGO for women empowerment treats his wife callously.

The quiet night was then engulfed in his screams of obnoxious words. He then threatened her of the consequences she will have to face unlike the previous time when she had managed to escape as he smothered her face in an attempt to kill her. He did use his power and money to get away with the atrocities time and again. She very well knew that it would be a difficult day tomorrow. Wondering about the consequences and in fear she fell asleep.

The next day was one of the worse days when she had to endure too much torture.

Every time tears rolled down her face,

She would say,

“I should have known, Love should never hurt this way!”

Yet, she continued bearing his terrible acts for reason best known to her. It had become her way of life. It’s sad that while people did notice the diamond ring on her finger, none observed the bruises on her face. She chose to live through an abusive marriage and accepted domestic violence. Everything presumed about her and her life was a lie.

P.S: Why is there no ending to this story you ask? Well! It is on purpose. It is because that is how a life of a victim of domestic violence remains. Domestic violence never ends but transforms into one’s entire life. The only solution here is to speak out or pack up your bags and leave for good. The latter is the best option but victims surprisingly do not gather up the courage to do so.

SPEAK UP AGAINST DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AND ABUSE. Domestic violence is not confined to socio-economic, religious, ethnic, racial or age group and knows no geographical or educational boundaries. The victims somehow forget that nobody has the right to exploit or abuse them irrespective of the relation they share. If you know someone who is undergoing this, do not deem it as their “private matter” but help them. Make them understand that reasons like alcohol, poverty or general stress should not be accepted. Also, bring awareness that people will treat you the way you want to be treated. If you are willing to be suppressed and silent the abusers will only capitalize on the opportunity. Hence, it is the victim who has to make the big decision and bring about a positive change.

Speak Up- It's now or never,

HPK!!!

DEATH...

2014-07-19T21:35:00.000+05:30

Everybody is petrified of you. You scare all of us equally. The rich, the poor, the gallant and the lowborn. None can escape you. Nevertheless, no one wants you to reach any of our loved one. Even though you are fundamental and ultimate, everyone wants to believe that you cease to exist. You spare no one. We all know. Yet, we believe that you cannot reach us or anyone we love or are dependent upon. That you cannot one day just appear from nowhere and take them away creating an unfathomable emptiness crushing us from within.

But then you do come. You have to. That is how it is designed to be, right? At times, you give the indication of your arrival way before. But the most difficult times are when you just storm in and take away someone we love. You come despite knowing how unwelcomed you are. In spite of detesting you the entire time, when you take them, we sense a vacuum. A barrenness that can never ever be filled. Excruciating seems a weaker word for the pain you offer.

What is in it for you I wonder? What solace in it, do you seek? Do you feel empowered? If you do, you are wrong. If you think barging in always and taking away someone every time will crush and deter us. You are wrong. Because, we are mere mortals. As strange as it sounds, we have this crazy mechanism called "getting used to". You succeed at shocking us the first time but not later, because we automatically learn the tactic to overcome it. But you, you can never do it differently. It is the same way always. The pain is the same always.

It’s weird. But, in the act of hurting us, you fail to realize we learn too. You teach, I guess. We learn how to walk the tight rope of hope and despair. We get crushed but still learn to gather up the pieces, sew them up again and start afresh. You steal our sanity and then reinstate it in us, what we thought was damaged beyond repair. It takes years for us to heal. Despite the fact that we have stopped hoping, you help us see the light beyond. Yes, we wonder later on if it does matter to have found the light, now? Since, we know that you can strike again without warning. And if that happens, these phases would all be a repetition.

Its then that the doubt seeps in. Is there actually a purpose to one’s life? Should there be one? Or is it just a fragment of our imagination. We spend our entire lifetime working on frivolous matters. You are never on the list. Wherein, you are the only thing that is inevitable. Irony is that we know this right from the start. After you appear more than once, everything seems futile. All of it. I sometimes, feel like there is no intrinsic value to our existence since we are totally insignificant. We are somehow prepared for everything that repeats and nothing can succeed to petrify us mortals. You too cannot change that fact - “DEATH”.

Every time you strike and take away someone I know, you make me wonder if I am inching closer towards NIHILISM!

-HPK!!!

My Daddy! My lifeline!

2014-06-15T17:24:00.000+05:30

Somewhere cries of a baby filled up the silent night.

All attempts from rocking the cradle to the wonderful toys turned futile.

Finally she hushed up when he came by.

In another place was a toddler, who cried for no reason,

Then she was flung in the air but she sensed no treason.

Laughter filled the air when she realized she had got all his attention.

In other corner was a kid, who had just begun to walk,

She wept and wept after having a fall.

Soon, her tears vanished when he picked her up and began to talk.

In other part of the world was a kid, who fetched grades very bad,

With a tearful eye she returned home only to find her Dad.

He told he didn't care, coz he still had faith in her and that made her glad.

In every corner of the world you will find him,

Him, whose dreams are seldom spoken for his words are few.

But most of all, his worries go unnoticed too.

For he, never looks for praises or boasts, but goes on working hard for whom he loves the most!

He helps you with your math lessons and he teaches you how to drive,

A hand you can definitely hold onto in happiness and strife!

Thank you Daddy for loving us,

For unconditionally believing in us,

For all those times that in us you trust,

For all those moments of difficulty when you never created a fuss.

For allowing us to choose who we wanted to be,

For letting us create our own identity.

Thank you Daddy for not thrusting us with excess stress,

By telling what’s that the outside world expected us to be.

Thank you for listening and being our friend

And always extending a helping hand.

Thank you for all that you have always done,

Thank you for all that you will continue to do

But most importantly thank you for just being YOU!!

Love you Daddy

& wish you a very happy Father's day!

Haritha

Friday the 13th!!

2014-06-13T23:04:00.000+05:30

I woke up today only to realize that I am running late to work. But, then a smile creeps up my still asleep face recollecting that today is “the KFC day”. The same Friday my colleagues and I were waiting since… err.. Monday. :) My smile almost turns into a giggle when I reckon there is no cooking in the agenda. Also, that my Dad is visiting us tomorrow and my husband is returning home too from his visit to native.

Sipping tea, I glance at the newspapers which on normal weekdays I can’t lay my eyes on. But, I am disturbed by the horrific tunes that my brother apparently calls music. Yup! That bang-bang ranrdom noises is a wake-up alarm for him! He decides not to wake-up anyways! :(

I get set to my office happy that my bag weighs light without the lunch box. I ride to office with KFC in my mind and humming some tunes to myself. The traffic however decides to annoy me. Looks like everyone in vicinity have to travel by the exact same roads as I. There are people walking on roads and vehicles on footpaths. “Mayhem”! I exclaim to myself. Cursing and ranting as to how everyone are in a hurry, I continue my ride. Since, the shortcuts are already jammed, I decide to take on the main roads and patiently wait in the signal. Because I realize that I am certainly not running out time. The first signal towards silk board takes me 15 minutes to get through. Phew! I wonder if the decision wasn’t that wise because I have 2 more even worse signals in the making. But, showing some faith to my own decision I continue. By the time I cross silk board junction I realize I have somehow turned from the sophisticated lady with very good vocabulary into an impatient person who can swear at any random person. Conclusion- Bangalore traffic can create alter egos!

I, who invade through the traffic, enraged, riding on the footpath yell at a guy who is dodging with vehicles on the road as to- “For god’s sake, there is no zebra crossing here.” Yup! I do not stop to wait for him pointing at me for being on the footpath. I just scoot away. Hastily, I come to screeching halt seeing the lights go to red from yellow. In that relaxing 60 seconds, I realize I have just turned into a absolute freak.

But, KFC chicken again lingers in my head and I smile. Happy! Again. I decide to discard my impatient self and adopt the cooler one instead. Within seconds there is this car in front of me driving so slowly without letting me overtake it . Exactly! I have no control as my alter ego takes over. I decide not to let him win. After trying to sneak in through the left then the right, finally I overtake him.

The victorious feeling and the winning smile takes over as I am happy and relaxed until I hear a thud, feel my ankle twisted, knees scraped, flying in the air right in front of my damn office. I turn around and see a helping hand, grab it without bothering to look at the face and try to scoot AGAIN. Alas! This time my activa is lying by on one side and I have to seek help to lift it. I hush up all the concerned colleagues assuring its nothing and ride it down into the parking lot only to realize that my vehicle is damaged. On my way up, I feel the pain in my ankle and calf muscles realizing that the fall wasn’t that silly after all. By the time I reach my cubicle I am slightly limping but do not mention the incident to the team. Its then that the pain takes over and I know I can’t escape the curious glances of my team mates when I limp and blurt out the truth.

Next moment, there are pain relief sprays on my desk and my entire bay smells of medicines. Everyone unanimously drop the KFC idea as I can’t walk that far (which is actually close). We end up eating our very own INDIAN Biryani in a restaurant that’s like.. err.. in the building next to my office. By afternoon, my husband calls to inform the change in plans and that he will reach by Sunday. It is 3 PM and my ankle is so swollen that I decide to leave home early. By 5, I had mastered the art of limping. The pain however, had reached its limit. Within hours, I am on my bed with my foot resting on a dozen pillows. However, this time around I successfully managed reaching home in a vehicle that screeched all the way as though it suffered a great deal when compared to me.

Looking at my ceiling, cursing the fan that for no apparent reason had stopped functioning, I realize that the long awaited KFC never happened. But, ultimately what happened is that I have a swollen ankle, damaged vehicle, a fan that isn’t working, husband who cancelled his plans and also mastery in art of limping.

Taking a deep breath, I exclaim to myself- “This had to be. After all it is Friday the 13^th!!”

Hope you had a lucky day,

HPK!!!

My world, My happiness!

2014-06-11T23:33:00.000+05:30

You taught me to smile,

You made me feel worthwhile!

You taught me to live,

You made me in myself believe!

Your's were the words I could trust,

Your's was the hand I could hold!

You filled the void in me,

You hid the vulnerability of my soul!

You are the first ray of sun that hits my still-asleep face,

The air I breathe and water that quenches my thirst!

You are the root that keeps me on ground,

And a refuge where, happiness I found!

We've had our good times and the bad ones,

The music we disagreed on and the lyrics that bound us,

The things we said that we shouldn't have; but never said what we actually meant.

We fight. We smile. We live. We cry.

Not only with each other but for each other too.

The rest of the world on one side, and you on the other,

I had still pick you!

Because,

We are each other's sweetest dreams,

We are the best of friends and more!

Because,

Something’s will never change.

Not when questioned,

Not when we fight,

Not when we disagree,

Not even when we are out of sight!

You are the path that leads me to the place where I find peace again!

You are the strength that keeps me going,

A hope that allows me to be trusting,

You are the light to my petrified soul,

You are all I ever wanted and will always need!!!

P.S: A decade of having known each other and into 3 years of wedding; all I can say is wonderful years have passed but I am certain there are even better ones to come!

Love,

Haritha!!

Life- so full of you, yet so empty!!

2014-04-26T08:13:00.001+05:30

Mom

The surroundings remain same except for the house I grew up.

Her clothes still rest in the same closet; only lying unused now.

Some pages still has her writings, yet other sheets will always be incomplete.

Everything is so full of her yet so very empty!

All I have are her memories,

The same ones which I live time and again,

What if this too will?

Eventually fade away!

It is bothersome to identify how very helpless one is,

How much ever we dislike, life hits abyss.

Finally we have to watch them go,

And will cherish their memories is all one can vow.

The memory that with time, will eventually fade,

A promise, that one will unintentionally betray.

Our memories live with us despite their absence.

And life will be always full of them, yet so very empty!

P.S: It was my Mom's birthday yesterday and just like the past 10 years this year too continues without her around..

Happy B'day Mom,

HPK!!!

This is so Me!!

2014-04-24T13:07:00.001+05:30

I am a song; the kind of song that you will have to hear over and over again to like. Other times I feel like the sand; that easily slips away even before you realize! I am that wind; which you will feel hitting your face. But, when you try to contain it, you know how miserably you fail. I may stay for hours amidst all; and never make an impression. Yet, when I am absent you will feel the vacuum. I am at other times like a tear; tear, which accompanies you in all your hardships; yet never considered worthy. Certain times, like those words that will always fall short when you describe your feeling. There are times I feel like that chirping bird, which you can never imitate. Else, like flames that can self-deprecate!

I am more like a story long told and lost; a tune that was never ever hummed, lyrics that was never written and just like the time that shall always pass!

I am all of this.. Who are you?
HPK!!!

My Life, My way!!

2014-02-07T16:33:00.001+05:30

Nowhere, is where I belong,

This, I have claimed all along!

Yet, you curb my ways,

And I give in, not wanting to be a disgrace!!

Limitations, you set and always impede,

I dislike it and to you I plead!

Yet, you compel me to adhere,

And I agree, not wanting to be insincere!!

But now, I have had enough,

I will not let myself be cuffed!

Of my life, I will take charge,

Will not let you knock, let alone barge!!

I want to be left alone,

Want to be human, not live like a stone!

It’s my rules and my life,

Hence, will be happy even though in strife!!

Dam the society,

Am done being piety!

Will no more relent,

Nor ask anyone’s consent!!

Finally, to just let you know,

There is nothing to you, I owe!

I take my life back from you,

This is my final adieu!!

Live life your way,

HPK!!!

Little Pleasures!

2014-01-11T12:48:00.000+05:30

Are you a person who can let go of your things easily? Can you do it without giving it a second thought? Without batting an eyelid?
I can’t. Selfishness, you pronounce? Initially, I gave excuses. But now, I have come to terms with it.

Why else would I have those silly greeting cards for years now? Any reason, why I even treasure the gift wrappers from the gifts I receive? Only one set of the Ear-rings which are of no use to anybody, still occupy my drawers in dressing table. Loved one’s belongings, inspite of their permanent absence remains untouched. A broken coffee mug, crushed papers, old note books still surround me.

Where are my riches hidden you ask? Ha! You don’t have to rack your brains. For it exists, in places which you cannot comprehend. It's tucked within lots of random papers in a file. It could be in an old unused bag or a wallet. It could be found hidden between heaps of clothes in my cupboard in forms of books or any accessories. Or it may lay crushed away, with all its fragrance and colour lost in one of the notebooks.

Ever watched an old video you shot with a long lost friend? Or any photographs from long time back? Don’t you feel happy? Doesn't a smile light up your entire face?

I smile a lot when I go through those tiny gifts, hand written cards, old college note books especially the last pages. Everything feels like before, when I open my Mom’s or Granny’s closet and I find it all exactly the same even after years. None of it missing.

Happiness is when something can make you smile. And I have loads of them. Cherished and treasured very well!

It’s the silliest of the jokes that makes you laugh. Likewise, it’s the silliest, almost useless and bizarre things I have cherished that gives me gratification.

In little things lies lots of pleasure!

Happy New Year!

HPK!

A li'l time for you and li'l for me!

2013-07-22T10:59:00.002+05:30

Finally, he managed to take her there. He did so, against everyone’s advice. Like always, all that mattered to him was HER. After all, he had to keep up the promise. A promise he made 25 years ago on the same day, which was their 25^thWedding anniversary. He smiled now, remembering how certain she was that he wouldn’t remember it. Today, he felt, that this promise was all he could remember.

It would take another half an hour for the sun set. He knew that there was time for the sky to turn into golden hue; there was enough time for the birds to get back to their nests and for the sea to glimmer like Gold. As he held her hands, he wished that likewise there was time for them too.

“A little more time for you and me”. He whispered. “More for me I guess”.

Over all these years, he had planned this surprise for her innumerable times in his head. He had gone through every step repeatedly and wondered how she would react. Truth be told, he had not imagined anything close to this. Today, she sat there, right beside him without any expression. The sea she stared at, didn’t seem to bring joy. She didn’t seem to be in awe of the birds or keen to listen to the waves. In fact, his presence too didn’t seem to make any difference. The last time she got her memory , as he could remember was almost 3 years ago and sadly it was only the kids around her then. This was not how he imagined things would be. He regretted for the times when he yelled at her forgetful habit. She now didn’t remember anything. Neither the house they built nor their kids. Most importantly, she did not remember him too. But, he could still sense that even though she would have forgotten herself, yet she was at peace with him nearby. Or maybe it was the other way around, he thought.

“I too don’t know anything anymore, I guess.” He whispered.

Today, when he had no control over the multiplying cells in his body, when he had a little time left, he realized that he did not expect anything from hey r anybody else. He had no complaints or regrets. All he wanted was to be with her. It did not matter to him that she didn’t recognize him unlike before when small instances could evoke his anger. Despite, the fact that he hated the silence; somewhere he knew that they follow each other through silence too. Now, he felt guilty to be leaving her alone but then he thought that she was better off since she seemed to have created a world of her own and was so detached from everything else. He was happy to realize that his absence will not cause her any pain.

“Maria, do you see the sun set?” he asked. (Coughing uncontrollably and ensuring that he doesn’t let go off her hand)

With difficulty he uttered again- “Isn’t it beautiful Maria? Just like how it was 25 years back?”

When he found her still staring at the sea, he let her hand away and took a moment to wipe off the blood from his mouth.

As he turned around, he found her looking at him. Right into his eye! It was a miracle! And yes, he also identified that twinkle which gleamed every time she looked at him.

“Maria! You …” He didn’t have to ask her anything more when he found her smiling at him.

With a trembling voice, she uttered- “Peter! You finally brought me here!”

Gasping for breath and with tears rolling down his cheeks he asked- “You remember?”

In a matter of minutes after they began speaking he saw what he feared the most. The face which lit with smile gradually turned into a frown and then into no expression at all. She again turned away and stared at the sea while he sat there looking at her and thinking-

“I lost you just the way I missed this sunset today. We were walking together throughout the journey, holding our hands. I neither realized that you had begun to lose the grip nor that you had begun losing yourself and us. I was right there, beside you and yet I missed seeing those signs. I didn’t realize that I was losing you until your Alzheimer won you over.”

[Weeks later, Peter succumbed to cancer entrusting his kids to take care of Maria. However, Maria followed Peter in a matter of months. She had never got her memory back after that day and thankfully never asked for Peter since that day.]

Love to all,

HPK!!!

Rise above the ashes!!!

2013-06-07T11:31:00.001+05:30

There was a point in time when only one thought troubled her. No matter, what she did, it refused to leave her. The helplessness, the dependency and the unfavorable situation had only managed to shatter her confidence. Worried she was, thinking it would only be sympathy that she would find for herself from others. For years, it had succeeded to overpower her sanity. She did not realize then. But, thinking of it now; she knows how miserable she was within. “What’s the great deal? All of us do go through such a phase” She now thought. A phase of life which you think is the hardest. One which seems like a tunnel which gets only darker. When you no more know how to get out of the mess. Something that she assumed would define everything about her from then on. But, with time the wounds healed. It didn’t hurt the same way anymore. Yet! It never let her be. It still reminded her of the void that existed. But, as life is meant to be; she savoured some of the good times too. Meanwhile, the void became less significant and weaker. She knew only self belief could do wonders. She also knew that she had to rise above the ashes. Life turned better. The nightmare reduced drastically. Finally, came a time when she knew what it is to be genuinely happy. The notion that, it would describe her and define her life was growing bleak. New things, new people and new outlook had all helped her create a new HER. She was no more deprived of feeling good things. Her smile managed to create a twinkle in her eyes. Everything seemed so much brighter and at the same time lighter. There came times, that she could recollect incidences which brought happiness, laughter as opposed to the bitterness and darkness she earlier felt. The dark passenger within her ceased to exist anymore. Or so she thought, until the day a phone call altered it all. It struck again. Death had managed to embrace its arms around another person in her life she was relied on. Even before she realized, the darkness came crawling back. Again she stood there helpless, not wanting to give in, unwilling to accept the defeat. The dark passenger that had long gone was now back, staring right into her eyes with a evil smirk hoping to make her realize how fragile she indeed was. But, this time around, she knew that giving up would mean end of her own existence.

Wiping away the tears, she whispered to herself- “I shall rise above the ashes.”

P.S: However worse or difficult the times today feel, all of us have to live to grow out of it one day.

Hazy Smoke Rings!

2013-02-22T12:01:00.000+05:30

“Why is it so shattered?”

She sits by herself day and night, undaunted by the intimidating night or solitude. This girl I once knew. I don’t, now. I doubt if she knows herself. The girl, with those radiant eyes and an infectious smile. The one who once was cheerful and behaved like she owned it all. Now people, call her lunatic who once acclaimed her. She is of no value for anyone, they claim; her life wasted. I sit facing her and speculate whatever happened to those dreamy eyes. She too would have dreamt, wouldn't she?

Yes, in abundance. Petite dreams, which would one day entwine and become a grand one. She loved defying illogical opinions or beliefs. This girl never believed in fitting-in but in fitting-out of a stereotype. Eccentric, she was always. She lives in her past wondering about her future and her present is constantly under construction. Today, there is kohl smudged around the eyes. Her hair is undone. She looks nothing like what she once was or ever wanted to be. But, it doesn't fret her. Now, she loves the rush music gives her. I wonder if she likes any particular genre. No, I guess it should be all of it since she is not only one person on the inside. She is different just like the diverse music.

As she reclines, she takes in one more sip of the drink. From the ash tray beside, she clutches onto the half burnt cigarette again with her quivering fingers. At a snail's pace, the smoke fills in, yet again in the already hazy vicinity. Her eyes half closed and lost in melancholy. I guess she relates to the cigarette which once was bright and then burns itself up only to get crushed ruthlessly. Also, with the circles of smoke, that initially appears bright and then disappears into absolute nothingness. She clearly knows it’s a sham and momentary joy. The taste of which will last only until it glows. But, the smoke doesn't choke her lungs any longer. She is just like another exhaled filthy puff of breath, long gone into a state of nothingness, trampled nastily in the end.

End? All say smoking kills. Ha! She laughs letting out another puff, coughing and reaching out for the drink. How much further can it blacken the innards which are already dark as hell? And yet if it does, it will only lead to light. It will take her to a place away from this world which is full of treachery, deceit and betrayal.

Her glass now, seems empty and she yearns for one more drink to find solace. The only cigarette that lit up until now too is faint threatening to eradicate the only source of light that keeps her going. As I keep looking at her, the image seems to be getting even hazier and unclear.

Oh! I smile realizing that I was just looking at shattered pieces of a broken mirror.

-HPK!!!

P.S: Smoking is injurious to health. ;)

Intricate Thoughts# 6

2013-02-12T18:13:00.003+05:30

Ever felt empty, barren, surreal or even vacuous? Do you think emptiness qualifies as an emotion? I do not know if I am in awe of this precise emotion but then there are numerous instances when I have felt this. Neither is it as multi-hued, enchanting or expressive as joy nor jaded or worn out like sorrow. It has all the tints and pigments of things I have seen and may also have the ones I did not.

Sometimes, you will find some smiles so empty that it is reflected in one’s eyes, their eyes do not gleam. It encompasses all the things but still manage to contain just nothing. I have felt this during the worst days of my life and some of the happiest too. The worst days probably left me empty with the loss of hope, despair and unfamiliarity of the future. Whereas, the days when I have done/got something that I have put my heart and soul into, strangely it is this emotion that engulfs. Empty! Probably because you have gone the full cycle and need to start yet again.

Emptiness is a complete contradiction. You may find people around you rejoicing and congratulating you but you are lost in the state of melancholy. One day it will shimmer through the edges of your smiles and the other day it will die a silent death in your tears. No matter where you stand or how happy you get, there will always be a little emptiness inside. Would it be crazy to say that inspite of it not containing anything, it almost fills the existing vacuum with nothingness?

Ode to emptiness,

HPK!!!

Confused By God!

2013-02-08T14:09:00.000+05:30

Ever felt that you are getting into a larger mayhem the more you try to chase something about yourself? Well, I certainly do. The subject is GOD. The more I try to follow, the more confusing it gets. Honestly, I have till date, haven’t figured out as to what one essentially prays. Whenever I pray, I just chat with him. Out of curiosity, I have asked people who I feel sincerely pray and are god-fearing as to what do they pray and have received responses like “thank him” or “seek blessings”. I respect all their opinion but also find the concept mesmerizing that one can believe in something that he has never seen with such honesty and integrity. Having said that, I really doubt if I could do that, Ever!

This subject GOD is inculcated into us in our childhood by God fearing parents or grandparents. What do you expect out of a kid who always assumed that Temples were just a doorway to more and more Ice-creams? The lesson is either learnt or taught in a wrong way. My Paternal Grand Mom has had a huge influence in my life. Having had working parents, she has been around us (me and my younger brother) during most of our childhood days. She was unlike the people of her time. She would travel alone; love Ice-creams, now at 90 dotes on chocolate too. She claims that jeans seem to be so comfortable and wished it was there during her times. She was the one who bought my first cell phone claiming its time I too had it. Having said all these fun things, there are some things that probably has left a permanent confusion within me. And that is “GOD”.

She on no account liked being idle and would always visit temples dragging us along. But, when I became of a certain age and preferred playing instead of a temple visit things changed. I don’t recall but in all probability after trying a whole lot of things on us, she finally settled on a very thriving strategy. ICE-CREAMS. That was the deal we wouldn't turn down. A visit to a temple meant an ice cream. This strategy, I must say, worked well for a long time until we began to retaliate. The major reason for it was because the deal didn't seem fair. We would visit 3-4 temples in nearby vicinity and get only one ice-cream? She still won it hands down for a long time. It did not matter to her if we actually prayed. She did not bother to know if we understood the whole concept of God’s stories or they remained just as a fairy tale concept in our minds, like the ones we read and she told. Just another story book!

By the time I was 12 my reason to pray sounded so selfish and incorrect. That was when I confronted and told my Granny that she was all wrong and that this is not how it was supposed to be. During these times, I remember asking my Mom as to why doesn't she pray every day. After all, everyone’s Mom does whole lot of a Pooja and sets it on a time table for their kids to pray. May be its all these questions of mine which triggered her to buy me a book- Conversations with God, which I still treasure but that too hasn't helped. She believed that God is a positive force which keeps everything on the move and to survive we need faith and a support which we term God. I was never taught any Mantras or Shlokas but to be truthful. She never believed in stuff of Girls being treated as impure as they mature. Oh! For that matter to some extent my granny too resisted that custom. My Mom carried a cross inspite of being a Hindu. The reason she did tell me but I don’t recollect it.

Moving onto my Dad, he was not all that spiritual but it took onto him from probably past 8-10 years. He says that he was the just like us. [But I consider, it’s the other way around. We are like him ;)] Over time, some things changed and he claims that a temple visit now gives him peace. He thinks that we will too accept it over time the way he has. I can’t deny that I find the idea a little strange. I am thankful that he has not imposed it on us.

Sometimes, I wonder how all of us co-existed. Each of us had a different notion about God. Amith and I are yet to figure it out though. Honestly, I don’t understand certain cultures that we follow.

Over crowded Temples. Most of the Men would be shirtless (Rule followed in south Indian temples) and you would end up being squeezed in between these people moving in a direction wherever the crowd is taking you to and you want me to claim that “I am here for Darshana.” I mean come on, forget seeing the idol, I don’t even remember breathing my lungs full until I am out. I can never ever truly pray in such scenarios.
The customs of offering hair to god. Ridiculous! The temple authorities are minting money.
Made Snana- (practiced in Subramanya Temple in Kukke, Karnataka. People from backward castes roll over leftover food that was served to Brahmins with belief that it will cleanse all impurities.) Give me a break; I would rather live with all the so called impurities.
Exclusion of girls during the menstrual phase and belief that she is impure. And then you claim God is the one who created everything.
Caste systems- Need I say more?

My questioning may be taken as offensive by some. But, I don’t see a reason why we would pray to a deity who has 16,000 wives, when our law declares it’s illegal to have more than one. Ram, proved Good wins over the evil but never set an example on trust, since he never accepted his wife back. Shiva beheaded his own son and then kills an elephant to replace a head? Either these stories are just fictions or we are wrong in accepting them blindly. If “GOD” is exactly what all of the human race claim him to be, I think he wouldn't want us to tell all those difficult mantras but rather have a conversation with him. You know, like a light-hearted talk! I do not think he would provide us with our needs just because we have offered him something else in return. I mean, what would he do with all those tender coconuts or the money? Well! When the saying goes that we should just do our KARMA without expecting anything in return (that is so dam difficult! World would have been so much happier if we could all do that) why would he expect us to do anything for him?

An eerie feeling I get is when, I read people who claim they feel his presence or know he is around to always help them out. I never ever felt that. Well! Either he was never around or I am a jerk. I am here not questioning God (I guess) but the way we choose to believe in him. These stories can never be more than a fairy tale for me. I mean practicality is something too. But, then a saying goes that, sometimes we just need to have faith. Well! I believe that blind faith is just not being open to truth. I don’t know but I could never do something just because I am asked to, or because everyone follows it. You can call it stubbornness or immaturity. As a matter of fact, I am judged as soon as I let people know about my confusion. But, I think my belief shouldn't define me but my behavior should! Would you disagree if I say I feel religion is what causes all the rifts, today? I just cannot relate to the concept of Hell and Heaven. Am I wrong if I cannot trust that there is someone high up in the sky, who has supreme power and has list of do’s and don’ts for us humans; And that he will bless us if we follow the list but otherwise loves us a lot. We are taught to pray to the Goddesses and also to treat women in our society inferior? If given a choice, I will choose to have faith in MORALITY. It is to do what is right irrespective of what you are told whereas God or religion teaches us to do what is told irrespective of what is right! May be, I have an inclination towards atheism since it is so simple to understand and practical at the same time. In fact, I am open to discussion on this because I want to really know if I am somewhere a believer, a complete Atheist or just confused! L

CC (completely confused),

HPK!!!