Realizations

Taking it personally

2022-06-08T23:04:00.000-07:00

For a while, I swung between two extremes of ownership – indifference and passionately personal. Neither led to great results. And finding the balance between the two has been a tight-rope walk; one that I have not mastered yet.

After giving it a lot of thought, I think I know why. Indifference was easy. When I achieved something to a satisfactory outcome to my expectation, I stopped caring about what happened to it thereafter. Or when I put in a lot of effort into something and got great results, but nobody gave me credit, or said “Wow! What a great job!”, I stopped caring.

Instances where I got passionately personal was a little difficult to analyse. Why would I fail at getting great results at something which I had made every waking thought (even dreams occasionally), which I put every ounce of effort I could muster? I was doing the right things, in the right way. But when I put in an effort of 100, and those around would only put in about 20, sometimes not even doing the right things, I didn’t try to raise them up. It was easier to tell myself that I had messed up and put myself down.

I’ve been told on multiple occasions, in both a professional and a personal capacity that I take things too personally. Why is that?

The answer (I think), is maybe I don’t value my own opinion enough. Why wasn’t a pat on the back from myself good enough when I started tending towards indifference? Why didn’t I detach from the situation, get a better perspective, and moved on?

Once I got to this conclusion, I realised that I don’t value my own opinion or word on an everyday basis. I don’t express anger - I clam myself up and continue about my day. I don’t express sadness – I put on a brave face, attempting to hide what I’m feeling and fail miserably at it. I don’t express preference – I go with the choice of the majority or references. I don’t have a preference in interiors, or clothes – I go with what I have been conditioned to like.

I definitely need to reassess life a little bit and give a lot more importance to what I want to do. Funnily enough, this exercise is going to quite a double guessing game. Am I choosing what I ‘should’, or am I choosing me?

Half year resolution maybe?

Falling in love at 30

2020-09-21T03:51:00.003-07:00

All the 30+ peeps, make some noise!! (Thunderous applause)

All the single 30+ peeps, make some noise!! (Scattered 3-clap disappointed applause)
Did that set the context of the rant below?

I’m new to being 30; 4 months new. I didn’t think of it to be a big deal till I went to the doctor recently.

Me: Doctor, my symptoms are A, B, C, D. My habits are P, Q, R, S.
Doctor: That’s the reason.
Me: But I’ve been that for years. What’s causing changes so suddenly now?
Doctor: You’re 30.

I’m not going to lie. It hit me like a bag full of nuts and bolts smacked across my face.

Reason for doctor (Just giving you some context):

At 22, when you get your heart broken, you need Jack Daniels. At 30, when you get your heart broken, you need Dr. Daniels (Therapist). Well, that or Vipassana.

I’ve fallen in love several times before. I’m not new to this. At 20, 24, 26, 28, 30. I missed 22 because of a relationship. Would have tied up my AP quite neatly.

You know the old routine… the idea of someone giving you butterflies in your tummy, being reminded of them when you see their favourite biscuit, or hear one of the songs that they once shared with you, sighing deeply every now and then. N/A for people currently infected with Coronavirus. I’m not going to be biased. You could get deep breaths caused by that intense-teenage-love feelings even if you’re infected. But, I digress. Anyone can fall in love. It’s free. Like punching a wall. With your head. (That’s why the butterflies… see what I did there!!)

But it’s different every time. It’s a different part of the head. You’ve already developed some numbness. You might even be carrying some scars from the previous time (Some call it baggage. I romanticized the term ‘scar’ for my own convenience long ago). And the expectations are different too when you’re 30, you know! You’ve been there, done that. Classified every person you’ve ever met into some or the other category ‘type’ (Ohh… you’re one of those!!). And then there’s one you probably can’t quite classify. And all that your brain wants to do with that scientific curiosity is to know the other person a little more, in a desperate attempt to eventually classify them.

And there’s the kicker. The more you know them, you can’t classify them. (In all honesty, had one taken the time to know the others previously classified, one might not be able to classify them either.) It’s the same concept when you make friends: “This is my person”; for no rhyme or reason.

And before you know it, you’re in too deep. If you’ve had a history of making messed up choices, congratulations! Welcome to the world of unrequited one way love again, which makes a part of your head feel like half your age. That’s one way of being 16 years old at heart.

But there’s the advantage of being 30. You’ve had plenty of scars, so this one hurts just a little less. (No it doesn’t. I’m lying. You just get used to it. Or not. Like periods.) You tackle these situations better every time because you’re experienced. You grow a little more; wiser beyond your years. You open yourself up sooner, because you still have hope. It’s just going to take a little time. Maybe a day, maybe a week, maybe a month or maybe six. But you deal with it. Not because that’s what is expected out of you. But because you know you’re better for it.

What’s a Romantic?

2020-02-14T00:05:00.000-08:00

adjective

conducive to or characterized by the expression of love.

"a romantic candlelit dinner"

Most of us grew up with the above definition, always relating the term ‘romance’ to the idea of love, and love between a man and a woman no further (Let us be honest, most of us did not grow up with great sensitization or awareness of sexual fluidity, so I am not going to try to be politically correct or particularly inclusive here; I am just going to be downright honest.). Mummy and Papa hugging each other used to be romantic, candle light dinners in movies or books were romantic, Valentine’s day was romantic (just because the calendar said so) and Titanic was very very romantic.

It was during college that I took a course on Indian literature written in English that my definition of romance suddenly expanded. And I thank Tagore for this.

adjective

of, characterized by, or suggestive of an idealized view of reality.

"a romantic attitude to the past"

And just like that, suddenly, there was romance in stories beyond “love”. There was romance in rain, silence, and even colour. For me personally, a certain concept of purity, of un-adulteration, represented romance. It took me years to realize that absolute purity most often leads to vulnerability. It took me longer to accept that. And not long at all to realize it is really difficult to live with.

Can you imagine it? Can you imagine living in a bubble with no lies, no deceit, no manipulation, no pretence and no malice? Where you speak what is in your heart and your wear your heart on your sleeve? Where your passion is visible in your eyes? Because I cannot anymore. We have gone through our years seeing too much of ‘adulteration’. We have seen diplomacy, crime, greed, and ambition getting the better of people. You see these barrage of impurities and wonder how could something ‘pure’ even survive in this whirlwind of dirt. And then something happens, and you do not know how, but you know it does survive.

That slightly chilly breeze out of nowhere will still give you goose-bumps. That weirdly dramatized representation of friendship on a movie screen will still put half a tear in your eye. A whiff of a smell that reminds you of an old love will still fleetingly raise your hormones. Have you felt it? The passion in the eyes of a boxer while he shifts his entire body’s intensity into the one punch that he has trained for 15 years? The realization of absolute silence around you broken by the sudden rustle of the trees in the middle of the night? The expression of a person sleeping in their deepest rem cycle reflecting what they are dreaming about?

I will not be surprised if you feel it. It will be slightly different for you, like it is for each person. It is too strong a act for you to deny. You are a mere mortal. But if you acknowledge it, Congratulations, you are a romantic.

P.S.: I am a hard-core romantic. I would not just spend time acknowledging ‘romantic stuff’, but happily spend time day-dreaming or desiring these situations. Sorry (Not sorry!)! My favourite people are romantic. And you do not have to be able to put it in words, but if the beauty of purity makes your heart well up, then you are my best friend from now on.

Can't stop

2015-12-29T07:05:00.001-08:00

I can't stop.

I can't pause.

And no, I cannot catch a break.

I'm addicted to fluidity.

I'm addicted to the pace.

I hate change. But I can't do without it.

Monotony is suffocating.

Decisions are emotional and quick.

You always know what your heart wants.

I like black. I like white better. Gray areas don't exist. They are constructed to hide.

I like being blunt. I'm honest.

I'm not going to beat about the bush. I don't lie.

It may hurt. But it's better that way.

I'm either the bff. Or I don't give a damn.

I would love to death. Or I wouldn't care if they live or die.

It's always about the speed.

I can handle it.

I can't stop.

I can't pause.

And no, I cannot catch a break.

Hickey

2015-12-15T09:37:00.003-08:00

I wake up at six,

finding you sleeping next to me, I give you a kiss.

You acknowledge the gesture,

and kiss the air,

before rolling over

and going back to sleep on your rear.

In front of the mirror,

I look at the scars,

Scattered around my neck,

Like a negative of the night stars.

It’s a wednesday,

We have to go to work,

got drunk anyway,

we’re quite a piece of work.

I choose a shirt,

that puts my neck as if on display,

as clear as the ash from the cigarettes,

in a white ash-tray.

And as I color my lips red,

I take a final glance,

at the marks from last night,

a sign of passionate romance.

I peck you once more before I leave

and give you a red mark of my own,

which you will realize only later,

once you’ve already hit the road.

They look at my scars,

with futile attempts to hide their surprise,

On the way to work and at it

I’m used to their eyes.

For every stare,

I can only blush

and think back at that 3AM rush.

I proudly walk along,

not quite giving a damn,

Still smelling of you,

still smelling of us,

still smelling of sex,

And those hickies on my neck.

Slow down you crazy child

2015-12-15T09:29:00.004-08:00

Dream away, dream away, dream away they say,

And to stay grounded, they ask,

Are not the expectations high?

But why?

Taking flight is easy,

Stick your hand out of a car window,

You’ll know.

Easy to fly, Easy to fall,

Time flies when you’re having fun.

No wonder life has time

to flash by your eyes.

Get a grip,

take it easy,

there’s plenty of time,

if you can hold it in.

An Obsolete Culture

2015-10-02T05:51:00.001-07:00

With the times being accused of modernization, there is a lot of talk about not forgetting our roots and staying true to our culture. A culture that has been dictating to us for centuries about our diets, our relationships, our relationships and our rights. Even today, my grandfather asks me about the caste and the religion of a person every time I mention the name of a friend. There are also a number of friends and acquaintances who have not been able to marry their boyfriends/girlfriends owing to community differences. A number of people who wouldn't dare to eat an egg in front of their families are expert cooks of B.L.Ts and Spaghetti with Meatballs. And another whole sample set who have the best taste in cocktails, beer or wine and food pairings and are the assigned bartenders for every house party I attend, but have to clean their house spotless and devoid of any empty bottles when their families come to visit.

The pressure subjected by 'staying true to our culture' is essentially demanding people to live double lives, instigating violence, and birthing not just distrust but hate.
We might even say that culture has reached a point when it outweighs its pros with its cons.
We live in an age where intellect and common sense is taking a back seat while radical bigotry roams freely on the streets under the pretext of protecting our culture. There have been multiple instances of threat and killings under the same pretext as well.

The prerogative for humans to engage in activities which can be remotely routed back to "culture" often comes at the cost of relationships and decides the extent to which one would be accepted in the society. The other day, I overheard someone say that a man on drugs is more acceptable in the society than a woman who is a cigarette smoker. These cultures don't just vary across religions and countries, but across cities barely a few hundred kilometers away which seems rather ludicrous in the age of multimedia and lo' and behold, the internet.

The "culture" gives rise to sexism, bigotry, casteism, violence, and a whole list of criminal activities otherwise, including but not limited to honor killing.
This said, there's always a whole new argument about governance and the law protecting perpetrators of said crime. In the above statement, we are referring to the same government which makes its laws based on popular vote rather than actually thinking about what's right or wrong.
Honor killing is a crime but marital rape isn't recognized. Vilification of men under the accusation of rape is instant without investigation and paternal leaves are rare. And this doesn't even cover the recent activities of radical killings and the spree of bans which is nothing but an indicative of intolerance; all under the excuse of protecting our culture.

The government since independence has spoken about the upliftment of minorities. There is a clarification required here. Which minorities are being referred to? Caste based? Religion based? Why are we limited to these though? What about the minorities of thought? Being minorities, shouldn't they be uplifted rather than targeted.

And as I said before, we may have very well reached a point where the very idea of culture outweighs its pros with its cons. And when an institution as such becomes harmful rather than useful, it should be done away with.

Incapable of Love

2015-09-27T00:59:00.003-07:00

Disclaimer: I'm not married. And I've dated a few people. And I have been considering the option of an arranged marriage. And I have a lot of friends who fall into almost every case mentioned below. So judge now, and then continue reading.

We want lightening internet, faster food, quicker results and prompt service. We are aware that there is so much to do that we haven't done, and we're aware of the short 24 hours that we have. Our spoilt habits of instant gratification, multi-tasking and growing ambitions keeps us dissatisfied and always hungry for more; applicable not just to our daily tasks but to our relationships as well.

While the world is crazy about dating and finding 'love', the number of people opting for arranged marriages is also increasing, evidenced by the fact that the matrimonial match-making business is increasingly thriving. Contradiction alert! I read an article recently: 10 Reasons why this generation is losing the ability to be in love.

We care more about instant gratification than we do anything else.
We've built a culture driven by drugs and booze.
We sleep around – a lot!
We're becoming even more egocentric.
We date for the sake of dating.
We aren't fans of making compromises.
We believe in fairytale endings.
We've been fooled into believing perfection is attainable.
We're goal driven, but often forget to include our partners in the mix.
Most of us are really bad at loving.

So, in a nutshell, we can't find love because we're looking for the perfect person without making the investment of time and compromises. Hence we fall back on the option of arranged marriages so that we don't have to die alone. But if we're not willing to make compromises with love, why would we be willing to make compromises with a married partner? The answer is that we probably won't! The excitement and butterflies-in-my-tummy feeling always dies out eventually. The difference is whether it will die out while you're still dating someone or once you are married to someone. In some magical circumstances, even after the initial charm has worn out, the bond still exists. In case of dating, if the families agree, they'd get married. In case of marriages, well, the families have already agreed. So everything is hunky-dory. But what about all the other cases when the charm has died out and there's no bond in sight?

We're looking at a lot of break ups and increasing number of divorces. Break up in a span of months. And divorces in under 5 years (only because you have to try to make the marriage work owing to social obligations). You have 'just friends', 'friends with benefits', 'friends after breaking up', 'just dating not serious', 'in a relationship on Facebook but haven't said I love you', and 'about to call it off' as though it was a spontaneous holiday you've decided against because you're too sleepy that morning. Then you have 'trial separations', 'distance marriages', 'open marriages', 'annulments' and 'divorces'.

In the next decade , there are going to be a lot of 25-37 year olds bouncing around looking for stability wondering where they went wrong; some already with kids and some paying alimony; and some who's dating record will resemble Phoebe's and some with 3 divorces under their belts like Ross. Some like Charlotte saying "I've been dating since I was fifteen. I'm exhausted. Where is he?" And some like Barney who'll finally realize that he wants what Marshall and Lily have.

But like every situation, this has it's pros and cons. You know how after a bad break-up, all you want is your friends and family to fall back on? How they're always there for you despite watching you make the same mistake over and over? How they're fed up of you being stupid but love you for and despite all of it? Every messed up relationship only takes you closer to them. And there's nothing that a " 'I love you guys!', and 'Awww, we love you too!' after a few tequila shots" or a " 'Thanks a being there man' and 'Yeah, whatever.' after a few beers" doesn't solve.

Idols are people!

2015-09-23T23:02:00.001-07:00

A large number of people in the world ranging from the Dalai Lama to a number of celebrities are looked up to, admired and often revered. We, who idolize them usually defend anything they might say against those who tend to malign them. The entire process of maligning and defending can be seen prominently across Twitter (amongst the Twitterati) and television journalism on an everyday basis. However, every so often, one of our idols makes a statement that does not go down with us very well thus giving birth to feeling of betrayal since "How dare they say that?"

Most of us have to make conscious and rather failed attempts to put a filter between our minds and mouths. Thankfully we don't have people recording every statement of ours. If those statements came out in public, we would probably embarrass ourselves to isolation for the rest of our lives. But our hypocritical inner self wants to exempt our idols from the same.

The subjective approach worsens the number of such incidents when we fail to give leeway that said things may be spoken in jest or quoted out of context. I myself have been guilty of that recently when I came to know about the jovial tendencies of a certain man I admire by the people who had actually met him. None of us are naive enough to believe every word quoted or reported by the paparazzi. We know better. We know how they twist and turn and cut and quote in an attempt to create headlines. We are victims of it while being guilty of doing the same on platforms that are accessible to us.

It's increasingly necessary to understand and accept that those who have the power to reach out to a larger number of people than we do are humans. They eat and drink and poop and scratch themselves much the same way that we do. After putting them on a pedestal, we not just want to revere them, but we also expect them to voice that which goes on in our heads. Some of these may be elected officials while some may have been put up there owing to the nature of their career or by their very birth within a certain family. Some have chosen to be there. But whatever have been the method, it does not negate the fact that they are still regular humans like us. Some of them have fancy PRs and speeches written out for them which could curb the damage done by their 'out of line' statements but a large enough number does have the same perks.

They might be on a pedestal but nobody's perfect.

I got a boo boo!

2015-09-17T03:16:00.003-07:00

Chopping tomatoes this morning for breakfast, I sliced my finger with the knife. Sucking on the finger to stop the blood flow, I went to my mother, who was busy working on a presentation. "hmmmmm.... mmmmm....." I said, trying to grab her attention. She said without turning around,"What happened? Need help?"

"Hmmmmmm.... mmmmm... I said.", trying to grab her attention; but she wouldn't turn around.

"I cut my finger." is all I had to mumble when she turned around, immediately muttering under her breath,"Must have been using that sharp knife. I've already cut my finger on that twice. Why aren't you careful. How bad is it. I hope you don't need stitches......" without stopping for breath or an answer.

I just looked at her as I stuck out my finger and she wiped it with a piece of cotton soaked with Dettol, held it together till the bleeding stopped, and bandaged it after. I looked at her and pouted and she kissed the bandaged.

I've cut myself in the kitchen before; on innumerous occasions when Mom wasn't around. And I have been more than capable of cleaning up and bandaging myself. But I'm the Grown-Up-Independent girl on those occasions. And when Mom is around, I'm 5 years old again. When she's around, I need her to bandage my wounds, to wipe my tears and to pat my head to sleep!

When she's around, I can fuss over every paper cut; because when I'm by myself, it's a scratch, but when I'm with her, I got a boo boo!

Where is my Identity?

2015-09-11T00:49:00.000-07:00

The increasing religious and racial radicalism is surprisingly omnipresent. USA has underlying racism against African Americans and people in Turbans or Burkas. Australia closely follows the same lines. And in India, every religion seems to have a pact with every other religion for promised hatred, a policy of zero tolerance, and a if-you're-not-with-us-you're-against-us psyche. With the intolerance taking on an increasingly violent streak by the day (on a scale of go-back-where-you-came-from to IS), what is the solution for peaceful co-existence? Succumbing to their radical and political agendas would ensure that countries currently identified by their geographic location or names would be identified as a house for one religion, and one religion alone.

People in the United States have declared on more than one occasion that they are a Christian nation and that's how it should be. The outpouring support for Kim Davis indicates much the same. People in Iraq have declared that it is a Muslim nation. The IS extorting special taxes from Christians living in the state under the pretext of doing do on the commands of the Koran has no other denotation. And people in India have declared on more than one occasion that India is to be a Hindu state where any other religion and any non-regional languages are to be opposed for the fear that "Westernization" may cause "Cultural Pollution" which will eventually require "Cultural Purification". However, the grounds on which the term 'Cultural Pollution' has been coined screams hypocrisy. Those who oppose English-medium education very willingly learnt Hindi when their regional languages were not sufficient to survive. Those who are opposing the meat ban during the Jain festival never protested the permanent ban on beef; the government dictating the kitchens of a common man in both scenarios.

The IS propagates that no Muslim has the right to question the word of Allah or that of his followers. Doing so is committing apostasy punishable by death. Radical Hinduism seems not too far away with the Kalburgi death and the Bhagwan death threat.

This severe animosity is springing from deep rooted insecurities. For centuries, the whole identity of a frighteningly large number of people has lied in their 'culture', limited to their religion, language, geographic location, clothing and a few others as opposed to intellectual identities. With time, Globalization has performed the role of a bag of scrabble tiles. While a small world is welcome to some, the others fear for the safety of their own thoughts. The small percentage for whom identity is a function of their intellectual potential, are like a breath of fresh air in the middle of a busy Delhi street in June, but David and Goliath was just a story when the context is 21^st century violence.

"Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high
Where knowledge is free
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments
By narrow domestic walls
Where words come out from the depth of truth
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way
Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit
Where the mind is led forward by thee
Into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake."

I'm sorry Mr. Tagore. Father didn't hear you.

A Harry Potter Moment

2015-09-01T22:45:00.001-07:00

The monsoon is here. I'm sitting in my room looking out of the window and I can see the dark clouds creeping over the entire campus. They move swiftly. Every white and black cloud is clearly visible. It encroaches upon the sky but a clear line is still visible marking the beginning of these clouds. and the clear sky is still visible beyond it.

With years of "knowing", we know that this is no new sight. We know that this happens every year, and that it would start pouring down very soon, and the pathways will be clogged with water, and we'll feel like taking a walk in the rain or may be even just keep looking out of the window looking at the drops on a background of hopeful greenry with a cup of hot coffee in our hands.

But having seen the Harry Potter 7-2 recently, I cant help but think about the moments when the Dark Mark of Voldemort is cast over the skies of Hogwarts. Or even when the Dementers are approaching a certain place, their arrival preceded by the very same cold clammy weather with dark moroseful clouds in the sky.

These clouds have several interpretations. They bring back memories, create memories, make us feel wonderful at times, and melancholy at others. But most important of all, they cast magic on everything they touch.

और कितना चलना है बाकि

2015-09-01T22:44:00.001-07:00

एक अजब सी मिटटी

एक अजब चेहरा

कुछ दोस्ताना व्यक्तित्व

कुछ भयानक

एक दबी सी आस लेके हम सब चले जाते हैं

राहें मिलती और जुदा होती जाती हैं

अनगिनत सवाल होते हैं मन में

कुछ क उत्तर मिल जाते हैं

और कुछ साँझ के जैसे ही ढल जाते हैं

किन्तु एक प्रश्न जो मानो पत्थर की लकीर की तरह

कभी सताता है तो कभी नहीं

कभी जवाब मांगता है तो कभी नहीं

इतना कुछ कर लिया

इतना कुछ हो गया

इतनों से मिल लिए

इतनों को खो दिया

सवेरे की साँझ हो गयी

फिर चांदनी भी किरणों में खो गयी

कुछ ख्वाब मालूम हैं ख्वाब ही रह जायेंगे

कुछ को पूरा करते करते हम खुद ही खुद का ख्वाब बन जायेंगे

और कितनी दूर है मंज़िल

क्या देखना है बाकी

कितनी दूर है साथ इस राह का

और कितना चलना है बाकि?

The List that everyone keeps

2015-09-01T22:43:00.003-07:00

Every person in the world keeps in a list with them from the day they step into the world. The doctor who delivers you is on the list, the nurse, then your mother, your father, your family and as you grow up, a large many number of people around you.

The list is extremely dynamic and undergoes change constantly subjected to a total of four activities

Whenever a new name is encountered, it is added to list.
As a name becomes more important, its place in the list rises up and others around it goes down.
Some names just fade away.

The most interesting ones are the few names which we cross and hatch so hard, that it is impossible to make out the name, but we never erase them. Because every single time we look at that name, we remember the mistakes that we had committed in the past and it reminds us of what to do and what not to do for the rest of our lives.

Arrey Pagli...

2015-04-28T11:16:00.000-07:00

19th May, 2013: First day in delivery. Sankar introduced me to you. You were to be my first boss.
20th May, 2013: First call and introduction with the onsite. You stuttered. I thought you were nervous and stupid.
22nd May, 2013: I told you, my first teammate in delivery, that it was my birthday. I asked you for a cake. You refused.
23rd May - 16th August: We met the third teammate. The three of us used to smoke together.

16th of August: We went for a failed attempt at the team outing. Ended up partying there. It was the first time I smoked up with you. And that's when you told me while smoking and dancing in front of the couch, "Tanjul, this is how I party."

For all of 317 days, I knew you. For at least 275 of those, we hung out.
You've been gone for 334 days. I haven't hung out with you on even one of them. But there's not one day when I didn't see you.

I never thought of it because I never had to; But I knew that we'd be friends till death did us apart.
Of all I met, you were on my fantasy wedding guest list.
If there was news, good or bad, you had to be the first one to know.
Because for any memory to be fulfilled, you had to be a part of it.

The events were never important. The time I spent with you, was.
The snores were never important. Watching Sarabhai vs Sarabhai to sleep, was.
The sandwiches and milkshakes were never important. Laughing for no reason till 3am, was.
Hangovers weren't important either. Neither was the lemon soda you'd make me in the morning. But brunch at Boondock was.

Ding-Dong! Who could it be?
A helmet, a bag, a brown and grey sweater,
Hobbling in, Oho ho ho ho... While you rubbed your messy hair.

Your reluctance to hug while I tried to squeeze your breath out of you.
Your constant spot on the bean bag, and the out of the blue Hmmmmmm...s
Your inability to console people, "There there..", you said,
But you'd hug me when I cried,
And for all the annoyance I had been to you, never quite left my side.

The last conversation over a smoke, as you left early for the day.
And the next time I saw you, you were still sleeping. Wearing the same brown and grey striped sweater. Your hair were as messy as every morning. You still had that calm expression on your face.
Just the snores were missing.
I still miss those snores.
I still want to kick you to stop them when you wake me up in the middle of the night.
I still want to share a last cigarette with you because you taught me how to 'share and care'.
I still want to hear you say one more time, "Lagul lagul lagul lagul, laal laal lagul lagul, Jelly!"

The last one in the box

2015-04-28T11:10:00.000-07:00

There had been a two week break,

followed up by the mellow week.

The drunken texts,

and the cliched blocking of numbers.

She figured he had moved on,

She had never spoken to him again.

Every facebook update of his still,

was hard to get used to.

But she was,

Dressing up, going out

Attending parties, and meeting men.

She had amazing friends,

diamonds who stood by her,

helping her get through the moments,

taking things back to normal;

and she was.

She came back home one day,

and apalled by the mess in the room,

she finally decided to clean up her act.

Picking up the old pieces of paper,

and the empty packets of cigarettes,

strewn around the room.

Lay in one corner however,

was a small unknown pack,

they weren't the ones she usually smoked,

they were different.

She picked it up, and rattled it,

out of habit, like she did to every box,

to make sure she didn't throw out one of them,

most of them never did.

This one did though.

She took a peek, and in lay a single Benson and Higgs.

She never smoked them. She knew who did though.

And in a single moment, her thoughts came crashing down,

as she fell to her knees,

with shaking hands and a quivering lip.

His last visit came to memory like yesterday,

The pizza, the movie, and the kiss.

That kiss, the heat, the passion,

The last moment,

when the two had been at the same place,

Physically, and metaphysically,

Completely and utterly.

For over a hundred minutes, she could not think of anything,

other than the rush she had been through.

She took a sip of water, and a deep breath,

threw the box with the last cigarette in the pile of trash,

She'd bought one that evening,

the one she usually smoked.

She didn't need that cigarette,

the last one in the box;

just like he,

wasn't the last one in the box.

She can't sleep

2015-04-27T10:38:00.000-07:00

She turns the key at the stroke of midnight,

stepping into a silent house after a long day at work,

She switches on the lights and throws the purse on the bed;

It's late, she realizes, and it's going to be a long day at work tomorrow,

the daily bedtime rituals follow,

and reflecting on the day's events, she tucks herself into bed.

The needle ticks one o'clock,

her head is blank, but she can't quite doze off.

Maybe it's the temperature, maybe not.

She checks her phone for all the missed Facebook updates,

the likes, the comments and the Candy Crush requests,

but it doesn't help, and neither does 9GAG.

What the hell, maybe I should get up.

She heads to the balcony, and the moon is beautiful,

the sky is clear and a cold breeze is blowing;

these are the skies that have been spoken about,

in prose and poetry over the centuries.

It's two am, but she can't quite put herself to sleep,

There's no chaos of thoughts in her head,

but it's isn't quite blank either.

She lights up a cigarette, puts on a song, and slips into a bean bag,

in meek hopes of lightening up her head.

An occasional horn of a car on the street,

in the absence of which she can hear the silence

and the burning cigarette with every puff.

The clock strikes three, maybe I should get a late night snack.

Her image, opening the refrigerator,

illuminated only by the little light inside,

moves the boxes, looking for something to nibble on.

Last night's uneaten dinner doesn't seem to be inviting enough,

Jackpot! There's ice cream in the fridge.

She grabs a spoon and slides back into her bean bag in the balcony,

as Eric Clapton begins to sing, You look wonderful tonight.

But she doesn't. She doesn't feel wonderful,

and all that she wants is for her mind to calm down so she can go to sleep.

The ice cream is over, but her mouth still craves something,

rattling the box, she's down to her last two cigarettes.

Must smoke wisely, and it strikes four am.

These are those awkward night moments,

when she reminiscences all that's happened in her life,

and what she anticipates to do with it.

There's no point going to bed anymore,

if she has to attend the call on time,

A cup of coffee would be perfect.

Choosing one of the five coffee bottles in the shelf,

the Mocha, and as she pours it into the mug,

as the house fills up with the only too familiar scent.

I could head to the terrace, there might be birds chirping,

and she might even be able to see the sunrise for the first time in months.

As she rests against the ledge, and lights up,

she can see the mini-forest behind the apartment complex.

What am I looking for, what am I thinking about,

what is in that view of the forest,

and suddenly she feels like a cliche.

It's such a beautiful weather, the brink of morning but not quite there yet,

at the stroke of 5 am.

That coffee was great, but I'm so tired.

The body needs some rest, I should lie down for a while.

She goes to bed, trying to be careful that she doesn't doze off,

since the sunrise awaits, and so does a long day at work.

Keeping her eyes open, with the lights switched on in the room,

the phone ready to browse all those emails, and notifications.

Maybe a small nap. The sunrise is still twenty minutes away,

and a nap wouldn't be too harsh.

She puts the phone aside and covers herself up with a blanket,

the nap is going to be so welcome after an entire night of being awake.

There's a sharp ringing of silence in her ears, as she closes her eyes,

and the first thing in her head is a butterfly effect.

How different would the night have been,

had something changed in her life; a small incident,

maybe some words, maybe some people,

or maybe it would never have been. That's how that night was always meant to be.

She knows she won't wake up on time.

She knows she'll have to send across another mail apologizing for being late.

She knows what will happen in her very predictable routine.

She hopes it was different.

Someday, it will be, very different.

Real Fairy Tales

2015-03-22T02:22:00.000-07:00

I've been listening to a lot of very cheesy songs recently; bands like Maroon 5, artists like Ed Sheeran and the likes who produce works like 'Sugar' and 'Give me love'.
It's only after binge watching these songs does it dawn on me as to why these artists are overly popular with the girls. They paint a fairy tale; One thing that every girl probably wants, irrespective of how ambitious, career oriented, fed up of failed romantic attempts she might be.

These fictional stories describe how there exist characters whose lives revolve around these women, the lengths to which they are willing to go for her, the way they pamper her and the way they are worried about her.

Now either I am yet to see such stories in real life, or these characters in their true nature are essentially just pure fantasy fiction.

Coming back to reality, which is very different.

You both have jobs. And only in cases where you are living together, would you possibly be able to spend even a couple of hours with each other everyday. Both of you have independent and mutually exclusive social circles. And most people like to keep it like that to a certain extent. They want to be able to spend some time and have some personal space because they do not want to spend every leisure moment with their significant other. The public cuddling and the giggling and making you feel like you're the center of the universe/their princess (whatever floats your boat), doesn't happen. Wake up! They've spent the majority of their lives without you developing relationships in their own world which (more likely than not), will continue to be more important than their relationship with you. This is very possible despite them being in love with you. Being in love with someone and making them the highest priority are two different things. And you can continue picking up any of the videos in any of the 'love' songs and find an unrealistic scenario everywhere.

These videos in turn will end up giving birth to unrealistic imaginations/fantasies. Now I'm not entirely sure whether these are healthy because there are great chances of these fantasies turning up eventually into expectations. From my experiences, it's not healthy to have expectations in a relationship in the first place. Add on to it, if you're a straight woman, you're probably in for a bad surprise. Men don't fantasize about dreamy fairy-land situations. They're not going to surprise you with flowers or whisper modern equivalent of Shakespearean sonnets in your ears.

But despite all the misconstrued notions and flattery you're going to miss, love does exist. He might not take you on a fancy dinner where everyone is dressed in ball gowns and you dance till sunrise, but he will surprise you with breakfast in bed and tickle you till you can't breathe. He won't cuddle you on a park bench overlooking the lake but he will make love to you with passion you couldn't believe the existence of. He may not sing a song or write poems for you, but he will look at you in such a way, if only for a moment, when the world around him would cease to exist and he would marvel in his head at his luck on finding a woman as amazing as you are who loves him for the mess he believes he is.
And when he does that for you, you know that you've found your version of the fairy tale. You're not Cinderella or Snow White. You're you. And you're the star of your own movie.

Romanticized Ideas

2014-10-09T11:12:00.000-07:00

Romanticized Ideas are just what they're called. Romanticized. But under no circumstances have I in my experience, come across one which has not truly lived up to it's name; unless it was made up. They've got nothing to do with romance, or love for that matter. They need not be with a significant other, they might not even need to be with anyone for that matter. It's not something that someone can tell you to do and not something that you can make yourself do either. They're just the small things that could fill you up, make you comfortable and give you butterflies in your stomach at the same time. They can make you nervous and happy, insightful and morose, nostalgic and anticipatory or absolutely anything in the world. But the one thing that would probably come out common in each one of them, would be feeling so very comfortable in your own skin, that you wouldn't want to think about anything. You may not feel the hours pass, or you may feel every second as long as an hour as you take each of them in with a deep breath. There are so many of them, and to each their own. And they work best when you don't have to do anything, and they just happen. I was thinking about one such idea today, and it only took a second before several others came flooding to me. So here I am, listing my top 30 down, in no particular order:

1. A quiet walk on a lonely road under the streetlights at night.

2. Curling up in your favorite boxers under the blanket

3. Watching a movie while your friend watches the same movie in another city and you're connected on the phone, not saying anything at all..

4. Waking up to the chirping of birds

5. Hearing the sound of a train at a distance

6. Someone you longed to talk to, unexpectedly calls or turns up at your doorstep

7. The feeling of deja vu when you visit a new place with your old friends

8. Waking up with a smile on your face

9. Writing a letter

10. Finishing a book and wishing it hadn't ended

11. Sitting on a rock, watching the sunrays part the clouds, looking at the sun come up

12. Standing with your arms outstretched in the face of the wind

13. Watching someone type without looking on a typewriter

14. Waking up at 4am to find yourself sleeping in the most retarded place and position

15. Remembering an incident from long ago and laughing to yourself

16. Whistling the tune of the song that's been going on in your head

17. Posing in front of the mirror and making stupid faces when somebody catches you

18. Cuddling

19. Knowing and giving someone what they need or want before they even know it (and vice versa)

20. Lying on the bed, listening to light music in the background, just staring at the fan, thinking nothing

21. Hot tomato soup with lots of croutons

22. Bonfires with whiskey and marshmallows on a stick

23. Sharing a beer with a family member

24. Meeting old friends over brunch

25. Falling asleep with the book you were reading still in your hand with the lamp still on

26. Writing with your finger on a foggy mirror after a hot shower

27. Walking around with a mug full of hot coffee

28. Smoke rings

29. Exchanging a look with someone when both of you are thinking the exact same thing

30. And writing something after a long time... just like I just did!

Leave your most romanticized ideas or incidents in the comments. I'd love to read them.

Tejas and Thejas

2013-02-09T02:04:00.003-08:00

It’s been a long time, but buh! Never mind.

It’s been a long time since I felt so strongly about the wonders of humanity and truly realized the presence of two wonderful people either. Tejas and Thejas. No relation, yet remarkable people just the same.

I’ve always felt wherever I go that it is difficult to find people who give enough amount of damn about the world instead of just being cooped up in their own. And in most of the places, I don’t find any. As a matter of fact, I hadn’t found any for years and had begun to lost my faith in the presence of intelligent life form of the universe. Thankfully, faith restored when I talked to Tejas. Big guy, tall height, pretty wide, fair complexion, wears glasses, ultra reserved, Kannadiga, and god my god, bloody intelligent. Now the remarkable thing is that while the people that I have found in my life who tend to have sufficient food for thought in their hands do exist in human form, their heads seem to be up in the clouds as they fair to appreciate the tiniest beauties of life around them. But Tejas, oh no- he’s gots his feet on the ground, and his head up in the clouds and he can still look, touch and feel everything around him at whatever height, because he’s just that big… at heart.. and mind… and soul… and that is why, he is completely completely ADORABLE.

While Tejas was that, Thejas is admired for a completely different set but not exclusive set of reasons. Minimal interaction with the guy, and truly speaking, I have no freaking clue of what he is. But whatever I have seen and heard so far is enough to make me raise my hat to him (if I had one). He smiles, and he smiles and he smiles, and then he works and he works and he works, and then he smiles and works. He’s fun and mischievous and energetic and sincere (at least he appears to be all that). And I just can’t find the appropriate adjectives to describe this man. But the point at the end of the day is, that the person he presents himself to be, I yearn to learn from that person and to become like that one day (fat chance, I know, but trying never hurt nobody). It’s amazing what this guy does and could do. And I’m jealous. I am oh so jealous of the fact that what I dream of is something that the guy is actually doing every day, day after day, successfully.

Tejas and Thejas, I raise a toast to you two and pray from the bottom of my heart that both of you may have a healthy, wealthy and happy life!

(The toast is just customary and ironic as neither of them drink. )

We'll be just fine.

2012-07-03T05:15:00.003-07:00

It all started when my brother made an exclamation remark while travelling in the car with my mother and me- “Oh Fish!” Surprised as I was to hear my little brother talking like that (he’s not that little), I kept my mouth shut owing to my mother’s presence.

The next morning over breakfast, somehow the conversation turned to the kind of language that people use these days. Mom and dad had a lot to say about it. (It’s going to sound familiar)

1. The language you people use is disgusting.

2. Really? If you don’t find it disgusting, then maybe you should exclaim “Oh Shit” next time in Hindi.

3. You think using such language is a way of standing out.

4. You think using such language, you can easily fit in with the rest of the people who use such language. (Yes, she actually made both these statements with a short gap)

5. I think the way your language is progressing, it’s just going to get worse with time.

6. You shouldn’t try fitting into the herd mentality.

7. I’m not saying it to you, I’m talking about the entire generation.

And of course, no conversation with any parent can ever stay bound to one topic no matter what the origination may have been. (Not a part of the above conversation, but something I think all of us face on an everyday basis.)

8. You people think you are invincible.

9. Why do you drive that way? Do you think driving that fast is cool?

10. Why do you want to start a company or get into social work? Why don’t you just get a regular job like other people? (I read this as herd)

11. I don’t understand your generation. You guys (oops! my mistake! You people... most parents would ever use "guys") have an attitude problem!

12. Let me talk to so-and-so uncle and get you a job.

13. Why don’t you want me to get you a job? Why are you so against getting help from your own parents? (The reality is, they became self sustained paying their own tuitions and books etc in their first year of college).

14. Oho! Bohot bade/badi ho gayi ho na? Sab kuchh aata hai tumhe ab to?

15. Tumhe zyada pata hai?

16. Ye baal aise hi safed nahi kiye hain humne!

17. Pachaas saal ki duniya dekhi hai, tumse zyada jaante hain. (No offence, even though they may have been working in the same office, at the same position for 40 years now.)

18. Etc etc etc….. (Feel free to add more commonly heard statements in the comments)

The point is, life has changed a lot in the past 25-30 years since they were 20-22 year olds. Options have increased. Opportunities have increased. Job availabilities have decreased. And believe it or not mom and dad and uncle and aunt and grandfather and grandmother and the whole wide spectrum of family and friends of family who are always ready to molly-coddle and worry about us to death, we are actually capable of taking care of ourselves!

We took care of ourselves when we were being bullied in school. We took care of ourselves all day long when we were alone at home and everyone was off to work. We took care of ourselves when we had to travel all around the city for the hundred thousand tuitions that we had to take for the gamble of getting into a good college. We took care of ourselves for 3/4/5/6 years in the hostel. Yeah, okay we may have gotten a few bad habits, and some of us got a tattoo and a couple of unconventional piercings, and maybe we didn’t bathe for a couple of weeks sometimes and maybe the room was in a complete mess 24x7 (except for the times when you came to visit, when it took 5 minutes and everybody cleaned up your room and theirs), but hey, we got out great! At our age, you guys were raising us, but you don’t trust us enough to raise ourselves?

By the way, the internet that your keep cribbing about (that we never go offline and are hooked to our laptops and phones and our lives are meant to be doomed), that’s the reason why we’re still surviving. There’s a reason why the world is as advanced as it is today. It’s because everybody actually does know everything. And if we have to be in the race, we got to know everything too. That’s why we NEED Google! (If we weren’t online all the time, maybe in that case you could actually have worried about whether we could take care of ourselves.) Yes we're constantly texting, and we use more acronyms than actual words. (fyi, TRAI has made life living hell for us) And we stay online on facebook, gtalk and twitter all the time. (By the way, that's how we remind you of your friend's birthdays so you can wish them). That's how we know where everyone is and what everyone is doing. (You're the one who keeps complaining that you've lost touch with your school friends and that you have no idea where they are! Zuckerberg gave us an awesome opportunity so that we dont make the same mistake.)

The fact of the matter is that we are actually quite capable now. We’re all 21+ lads and ladies. Let us make our own careers. Let us make our own decisions. Trust us. Believe it or not, we have grown up. And you have to stop looking at us like a bunch of 12 year olds even if behave like that. (If we don’t drown enough chips and fizzy drinks at this age, we sure as hell won’t be able to do it at 50!)

We may goof up a couple of times, but give us a chance, and we’ll do well. It’s because you raised us just fine. And we love you for that!

A game... And my illusion of its reality. Part 2.

2012-04-11T23:05:00.000-07:00

The dependency was temporarily complete… a momentary unstable state.

The puppeteer was always a puppeteer, momentarily addicted to the puppet.

The bond was opaque. Neither a wisp of air, nor something substantially solid.

The father, friend, philosopher, guide, mentor, counselor, brother, was always there…. Someone who fulfilled the roles and duties par excellence.

The exception is still an exception, no matter what it may show on the outside.

The puppet will wait for its master to come.

The sin may be committed, but it would take away with it the master and the puppet together.

The emotional consequences have been severe, but that does not mean the end of anything… the story shall continue and the golf ball… intact!

The puppet was not always a puppet. A long time back, the puppet was actually a little girl. A girl who used to stay in her dreams, lived in a fantasy of a castle and kingdom, believed it all to be the truth, lived in a world of illusion. Then one day, she met a person from the real world, someone who knew that the life was not a castle in a kingdom with rainbows and butterflies. Not everything, or rather nothing was as beautiful as it seemed in the first glance. The person saw what an illusion this little girl was in and knew that soon when she shall have to plunge out of that world into reality, she will not be able to withstand the shock. And so, he took pity on the little girl (Bless his soul), and promised himself that he would teach her the realities, pull her out of the illusion, so that she may live like a real person in the real world, taking care of herself, safely.

The harsh part came when the person from the real world realized that there was no pleasant method of doing what he was about to. It would be an un-natural act- To disrupt a normal flow of life and put it into something else. But at the same time, it was necessary. He tried his best not to let the situation fall out of control into the worst. But he could not stop it. The situation did eventually become the game of the puppet and the puppeteer.

My happy ending

2012-03-02T23:40:00.003-08:00

I remember the times in school when I was surrounded by friends who had boyfriends. Pretty girls, girls with a lot of attitude, the kind whom boys would willing run after, the kinds who would get surprises, gifts, and a lot of affection.

Never was I the pretty one and I was most certainly never the delicate one. On the contrary, I would behave like a boy, athletic in my spirits and would use a very colorful language. Whatever was the case, I always did dream about having a 'boyfriend' who would be head over heels crazy about me. I guess I had fallen in love with the idea of being in a relationship instead of wanting the person to be in a relationship with.

I still see people around me like that, but fortunately, know the truth about their relationships now. It feels good to observe that I never made that mistake of falling into an amateur puppy love relationship long back. But it doesnt mean that I didnt make the mistakes that almost every girl does at that stage. In love with the idea of a relationship, I jumped at the first chance I got with a moron and finally made the mistake. Thankfully, that got over before I could lose myself over it. (A Superman rescued me. :P )

And then I grew. Immensely. I realize why was such a kid for so long. You need heat to melt and mold metal. You need the experience to mold you, and to grow up. A little on my own, and a little help from Mr. Superman, the experience, the sense and the practicality just came along on its own. Little did I know, that it was just another mistake. After all, Superman doesnt remain a superman forever. He does go back to becoming Clark Kent. And he does lose his powers. You cant be dependent on him. But loss of powers doesnt kill. And neither did it kill me.

But then again, Lois Lane didnt stop loving Superman when he lost his powers. Neither did I. No superpowers does mean that I have to think again, settle things, adjust to the new atmosphere. And it'll happen. A little bit of practicality. A little bit of experience. A little bit of wisdom. And a LOT of mistakes. It will become okay. It always does.

All Over Again

2011-09-30T06:43:00.000-07:00

I’ve seen a lot of people falling in love and falling out of it. They would meet up only to gather their differences before drifting apart once again. The meaning of love seems to fade away into the distance. I always wondered what love actually ever was. I even thought once, that I knew it. But every time I have questioned myself; what is it? What builds it? And what is it that gives it existence???? How do you define it? Every time I asked myself this question, and even though I have failed to get an answer, it never affects what the thought of that one person makes me feel.

Then I think of all the fairy tale events, and I think of all the movies that I have seen; hoping that I might find something that would tell me what love is. But all that they show off are people eloping, and gazing into each other’s eyes, and holding hands and not saying a word, and the first kiss, and the first walk, and the first time they ever held each other and a lot of other things. I tell myself that it’s a lot of bull, and continue my search for something that would give me an answer to my question.

Meanwhile, no matter the people I see around me falling apart affects the thoughts of the single human being constantly in my head. But somehow, neither does watching “couples” get all intimate together. Every such act seems hollow and meaningless. Then I think, may be the world is right. May be the fairy tales are right. And may be the movies are right. May be THAT is what love actually is. If that is true, whatever I feel is so not love. I try to push the thought of that possibility away. I look for another explanation. May be a fantasy, or may be a simple attraction. It is not an uncommon event. People get attracted to each other all the time and later realize that it might have been the wrong decision. (Talk about failed marriages, love triangles and affairs.)

While all these thought seem to wax and wane in my search for my answer, one thought still remains unexplained. Why does a single sight of that one person make me feel on top of the world? How is it humanly to possible to think about nothing but that one smile for the entire day and feel it has been the best day ever? A single glance at a photograph, a single feel of that characteristic smile on that face, and a single “Hi” in that beautiful voice? Any one of these. And I fall in love all over again.

21: Growing and Dealing

2011-07-01T22:05:00.000-07:00

We often don't realize it, but up to a recent point of time in life, we have been absconding from everything bitter around us. There are bitter truths, and harsh points which one must go through, but being humans, we try to avoid the pain, and try to get around it. The foolish part of this is, that we know deep within, that we wont get away with it, and will have to deal with later; but we manage to convince ourselves of the lie nevertheless.

Procrastinating never worked. It never will. Its hard to believe how stubborn we actually are and what lengths would we go to, to avoid pain. Always trying to take the easy way out, not wanting to deal with things. We underestimate and overestimate what we are capable of. We settle. We get carried away. We blame and we also take the blame. We feel sorry for ourselves and feel helpless. And all this, when none of the above is actually true.

21 years, they don't call it a benchmark just for the heck of it. We're expected to grow up. Growing up is not synonymous to responsibility or duty. But it is synonymous to surviving. We're leaving our homes, and going out into the world; to find our lives. It's that point of time from when onward we'd be alone for the rest of our lives. Sure, there would be a job, may be even a family. But what we have learnt about ourselves in all the years, will only remain with us. We'll have our problems. We'll be glad, we'll be sad; we'd be jubilant and we'd be miserable. It is up to us what we make of it. Do we have the strength to hold what we believe, or will we give away to the surrounding? Maybe its a little corny, but its something to do with courage. Can we break it? Or will it break us?

Step 1: Understand the problem. Stop running away. Don't live in denial.

Step2. Feel whatever you do about the problem. Anger, Contempt, Fear, Disgust, Joy, Sadness, Surprise.

Step 3: Accept the problem. Face it. Think of a solution. Bargain with the situation. Flip a coin, stare at the ceiling, get stoned, exercise; whatever stimulates your mind.

Step 4: Walk towards the solution. (Pretend it's cake walk. ;) )

Step 5: Relieve yourself. Solving problems of life is not easy, and we have the right to take a break. If the pressure becomes too much and the lid blows off, you'll lose control. Every now and then, breathe. Take off the pressure. Talk to someone. Distract yourself. Pick a hobby. Isolation isn't the key, no matter how much you may want it.

Step 6: Get back to the problem.

Step 7: Get over it.

Step 8: Pretend it never happened and Rejoice! :)

As the Great Joker once said- Why so serious?