The Mighty and the Damned

To start with, I would like to share that I am an avid reader. I love reading books - they are literally my best friends. Give me a book and a properly brewed cup of ginger tea, and you will find me purring contentedly on my couch for an entire weekend - with no need for cell phones, television or even a laptop. And like all book lovers, I absolutely adore reading classic literature. I will not be so impertinent as to say that it is easy for me - indeed, some of the famous literary works such as Ulysses and Illiad took me a long time to finish. The language and the subtle meanings hidden in every sentence was quite heavy, and it took me a long time to thoroughly read and appreciate them. But every time I turned over the last page of a classic, it gave my heart immense joy and a strange kind of a satisfaction - a feeling one usually gets after he/she accomplishes something noteworthy - like running a marathon, or losing X kgs. It is like a gorgeous hangover - one in which I keep going over the stuff I read and perceived. A feeling, due to which I often tend to dissolve into thoughtful meditation for several days until I am ready for the next book, the next adventure.

These books, these great works of literature aren't great because of their fabulous story lines. Most of these stories are very simple, and can be summarised in less than 4 lines. The reason why these books have been acclaimed to be classics, the reason why generation after generation falls in love with the magic woven by these great authors - is that the way these insignificant stories have been narrated, the way simple yet extraordinary characters have been portrayed. 

These books contain pearls of wisdom about human nature, about the course of life, and about the world in general. The insights described by these authors are indeed spell binding - it makes every reader pause and think... for several seconds. It compels the reader to go through the same lines, the same paragraphs, the same verses several times - only to find a new insight, a new truth, a new perspective and a new learning. In simple words, these books are classics because they make the reader wonder about their own life, and enable him/her to draw worthy conclusions. Even if these books may not practically answer the questions which may plague the reader at any level, they do help the reader develop a perspective which may not have been possible to attain easily.

If anyone is a big fan of reading classic literature - such as George Orwell, Rabindranath Tagore, the Bronte Sisters, etc. - you will probably agree with my observation that in most of these books, the tone is of desolation, despair, hopelessness, and the selfishness of human beings which tend to make the lives of the protagonists miserable. Jane Eyre lives a miserable, thankless life in-spite of being intelligent for her time and brave (until of course, the happy ending), Agnes Grey too has a similar life till the end of the story, Odysseus goes through trails and agony for several years until he is reunited with his family, Dorothy (of 'The Clergyman's Daughter' by George Orwell) goes through several horrible incidents for no fault of hers, and so on. 

However, I also observe that most of these protagonists are loners. The reason why most of the classics in the modern age are considered "serious" is because they have this aura of despair and hopelessness. I often wondered if it was the romanticising of destitution, wretchedness and poor fate which made the protagonists of these stories such strong characters. I mean - there is a pattern. None of these characters would have reached the climax of the story - wherein their character develops a steel coating and emerges victorious after all the crap they have gone through. It made me wonder - are these characters someone who we all secretly ache to be? 

Even modern literature echos these thoughts - although on a.... let's just say.... different - level. Take Superman, Spiderman, Batman, etc. for an example. All these characters were ordinary losers like you and me.... maybe even worse, because they went through stuff which no one, under normal circumstances, could overcome. If Peter Parker wasn't bitten by a spider which gave him superpowers, he would have probably become a boring corporate guy, working at a menial job where everyone takes advantage of his "eager to please" nature, forever playing second fiddle to his richer friend who would ultimately end up marrying the woman of his dreams (and hated every second of his existence. Some advanced authors would have even probably developed his character into that of a psychotic mass murderer). If Bruce Wayne wasn't a rich guy, he would have probably succumbed to the path of drug addiction or crime, and died a meaningless death in some godforsaken alleyway, just because the path of struggling for life's basics would have been ingrained in his persona. If Superman wasn't an alien, he would have just been an ordinary kid, with ordinary talents.... and would have led an ordinary life. 

Closer home - even Ranbir Kapoor in Rockstar echoes this sentiment - he says that since he has led a very ordinary life, devoid of tragedy and pain, his voice lacks the quality required to really strike a chord in people's hearts. So great was his epiphany.... that he went the extent of looking for tragedy. And when he did acquire what he wanted, he accomplished his goal. Unfortunately, by then, his goals and priorities had changed, and he found that he had taken a lot more than he had bargained for. Aditya Roy Kapoor in the movie Aashiqui 2 is a hopeless alcoholic. But it was his undying love for the art (and later the woman) which made him get over himself and mould another individual.... develop a legacy which he could leave behind. Even, to the extent of making him give the ultimate sacrifice. In an alternate universe - what would have happened if he wasn't an alcoholic? What would have happened if Rockstar (Ranbir Kapoor) would have just been a maestro at the vocal arts - much like Sachin Tendulkar in the field of cricket?  (BTW - I am NOT undermining Mr. Tendulkar in anyway - I think the man is a real inspiration to all of us who would love to follow our dreams and passions.)

However - after further thought, it occurred to me that the common factor in all these characters was not their tragic lives. It was their loneliness. It was the fact that all of these great characters who generations will continue to love and adore and identify with (on some level) is that they were all lonely people, with no real friends. Even if they did have any family or friend, they had eventually been deserted, at some point. And that, in my opinion is where the greatest difference between them and us lies.

Don't get me wrong. These characters had friends and family. But they were loners - because they chose to deal with their problems alone, rather than take the support of their friends and family. THAT is the real difference between a loner and everyone else (who isn't a loner). The underlying trait between all these people is that unlike common behaviour, they chose to deal with their situations alone. They never asked for help. In fact, even when some faithful, well meaning friends offered help, they shunned them - simply because they believed in something else, something which common people would never understand, some values which they held of their own, some fire within themselves which they refused to extinguish. They marched to their own drummers, they danced to their own tunes, they created their own destiny. 

Modern literature authors (creators of Spiderman, Superman, Batman, etc) chose to add a touch of fantasy. These characters were lonely too - if you notice, none of them had any real friends who would stand up with them and give them a safe haven while the bullshit ravelled around them. (I am not going to explain this with examples - just think about it). I have no idea why the authors did it - maybe these writers were more cynical and thought that only miracles could create invincible characters. Maybe, they wanted to create cool, awesome characters which everyone WANTED to be, as opposed to classic literature authors where they developed strong characters who adapted to their situations.

The minute I realised this, I felt blessed. Because, I realised that I don't need to have the strength of Jane Eyre, the resilience of Odysseus, the powers of Superman or the wealth of Batman. I don't, and I may never develop these strengths. Like everyone else, like these characters, I too, may go through all kinds of crap. For example, I may lose my job. My dreams may shatter, or a loved one could be lost. I may get into a horrific road accident and lose my limbs/sight. A terminal disease. Some world catastrophe. I may never find the love of my life. Or I may have to spend all my life living in rented apartments, with no proper plan for the future. I have no idea - shit happens, and it happens to everyone. 

The rampant poverty in our society, the hungry kids I see around me, the poor teenagers living in slums begging shamelessly for clothes or discarded mobiles, the diseased dying on the streets, the overworked autowala who, in a moment of frustration raises his hand on his infant daughter, the couples huddling under tarp in freezing winters/rains.... all of this will continue around me, and I will probably never be able to help them in any significant way. 

I know for sure that I will probably never obtain super powers or wealth or wealthy significant others like the characters in the stories which will enable me to make any difference in my own, or in any one else's life. I am just me - boring, helpless, me.... and the thought sometimes makes me feel terrified. Terrified, that I have been given an easy life (relatively), a sound mind, and a healthy body - and yet, I would probably be less than useless in the face of any calamity - be it in my own or in anyone else's life. 

But then, my second observation brightens the bleak background. I realise that unlike the protagonists in these stories - I do have something which they don't. And that's friendship. I have friends. Friends and family who I can blindly count on, no matter what the situation is. Friends and family who have supported me always. They have celebrated like maniacs for the ups in my life (no matter how insignificant or silly), and have held my hand and comforted me when life was totally kicking my ass. And That knowledge gives me a strength - a feeling of invincibility which probably even Batman, Superman or Odysseus did not have - because they weren't surrounded by family and friends who were even half as wonderful as mine.

And that single realisation sets me free. It makes me realise that life can go any way. After all, it is life, and it has to go in some way. But in this unpredictable journey, I am not alone. And that single truth probably makes me even more powerful, more invincible, and stronger than all fictional heros/heriones put together. 

Everything's gonna be OK. Eventually. It is my firm belief - a faith which sets me free, and allows me to live happily. And here, I would like to tell you too (in case you have any doubts at the moment) - that you may be going through shit too. You may be going through breakups/divorces, difficult moments in career, annoying people who make your lives hell for no good reason, painful health issues, losses in family/friends, business problems, identity issues...... but please rest assured ...... that it will be alright. Not because you found a miracle, or a rich partner, or won a lottery, or obtained super human powers. You will be OK... you will get past this..... simply because.....

You aren't alone.

P.S. - If you aren't convinced and still harbour cynical thoughts, just google phrases like "importance of reaching out", "power of friendship", etc. I am soooooo not getting into that!

 

The Infinite

She's fiery. She's beautiful. She's the best woman you have ever known. She's warm, she's nurturing... She's your childhood best friend.. She's who you wanted to be and more.

She's the essence of the fire we call pure.. She's the warmth of the sunlight we grew up with. Her smile is the forever we knew ... Her forever is our childhood that was pure.

She's infinite.. She expands in every direction. She smiles our worries away, she laughs our sorrows apart.. Her tears Are our heartaches expressed.. Her beauty is like the spirit of the earth... Pure, natural, older than time and yet so ahead of our future. She is limitless.. She is who we want to be. Her hair ... Long and golden... Are the threads of happy times... Her eyes are the pranks we played in our childhood. Her smile is heavenly... Golden like the sun, and serene like the moonlight. Her passion is our spirits combined into one. She loves like no other.... She hates no one.. Her thoughts are pure like the waters of the Himalayas... Her love.. Her love is the essence of everything that is true.

She is my best friend. I love her & worship her. Her tears are priceless.. Yet I stand helplessly.. As they flow for an unworthy.

I call thee unworthy now... Cuz thou hast no inkling of the treasure you behold. Indeed.. It is a shame upon our times... Such a woman is cast aside.

She is precious like sapphires melting in ice on mountain tops. She is rare.. As a golden rose smiling in the sunlight. Her warm heart... So big and pure.. Calls for love that is as innocent as a baby's smile... Yet as seductive as a cauldron of diamonds. She is truly infinite... Her virtues extend into every direction ahead of time... To understand her, your heart needs to acquaint itself with the gravity of love.

Her love is undefinable, unquestionable... Infallible. To attain such unquestionable love is truly an achievement of the noblest of humans.. The gentlest of hearts.. The most virtuous of warriors.

Embrace her... Love her. Lose yourself in her. And maybe then... You would find yourself worthy of that gentle heart.

Hurt her, let her noble tears drop to the ground.. And you would be in great consequence... For hurting such a noble love is besmirching the very blessings of the enlightened one himself.

My reflection - My self - My alter ego - Myself

You are just like me. We control. We fight. We bulldoze our way into things we feel that’s right. We follow our hearts. Endlessly. To the point where other people tell us that we are crazy, and that we are just hurting ourselves. But that’s just us.

We are crazy. We are wild. We dance to the tune of a single drummer – and that is ourselves. We are bound by our hearts. Our hearts guide us through the boredom of routine. Yet, we clutch on to routine – cuz it’s the only thing that keeps is sane. We realize – we are borderlines. We have no limits. We realize that we are bound – and we try and break free. We are restlessly, endlessly, struggling – to make ourselves visible among a bunch of peas in a pod.

We try and confirm. We try to convince everyone that we are trying. We try to smile at people who we don’t really care about – in the hope that we may be proved wrong by all those wise people in society. We fear that our loved ones will die in the knowledge that they couldn't do by us. We want them to be happy – but we also realize that we cannot lie to ourselves. And in this anguish, we end up hurting ourselves.  

Other people try being us. They copy our attitudes, our hairstyles, our tattoos, our speech, our wild selves. They make a poor show – they end up being self conceited assholes, who true to their own nature, cannot care two hoots about another human. But the one thing they just cannot copy – is us. We are unpredictable. We are insane. We have no limits. We don’t care about what other people think. We respond to just a single judge – the sound of our own conscience. We are just… us.

We follow a different star. We have our own standards – and no matter how illogical we sound, or how logical they do – we realize its crap. Our standards are far above the average. We don’t do good deeds to make ourselves (or people at the temple) happy. We don’t try to score brownie points through good deeds. In fact – we try being our darker selves. We use our darker selves as a camouflage.

People are afraid of us. They are afraid of our righteous voices. They can’t control us – because we don’t really care about what people think. We know that we are right, and we plough on. That’s just us.

But what is it between us? Why can’t we see each other? Why do I hurt you so much…. Why do I roller-blade your feelings? And why do you use every single opportunity to hurt me with your indifference? Why do you pull yourself away? Why cant you understand that I was sent here because I am just like you? Why don’t you realize that we were meant to be?

Why are we ignoring each other? Both of us together could be formidable – we could rule the world. We could – because we are both exactly alike – just the way god intended us to be. But why are we so scared?  

Who are we? If god intended us to be, why are we holding back?

It is fear that is holding us back. The past has not done anything to help us – instead, it holds us back.

But I have faith --- the one thing the past hasn't conquered.

I don’t know if you have kept yours. But I will pray for you, and for myself…. And for all that I think we withhold.

Being a man – not so easy in a woman’s world

Believe it or not… it is true. This article is dedicated to all those wonderful guys we know. They are our friends, colleagues, relatives – amazing, sweet, loving guys who selfish bitches like ourselves always fail to recognize.

Being an independent, self reliant woman is really tough. All women in this category will agree. We struggle everywhere to make ourselves heard – at work, at home, and everywhere else. We struggle, day and night. We watch as our bosses readily take the same advice earlier given by ourselves from male colleagues, we watch as male colleagues judge divorced women from other teams – knowing fully well that the women are really sweethearts. We watch as they mess up FB entries of women totally out of their league, and we watch as men on the streets abuse their wives or daughters. We watch – and we grow angry. A relentless, growing anger that is like a bottomless pit – there seems to be no respite. And it is this anger which makes us summon up all of our defenses. An anger so great, so strong, so vivid, that we completely forget that not all men are jackasses.

I am now talking about men who are struggling – to live in a world full of women like ourselves. Men, who have to constantly battle our distrust. Men, who realize that bimbos are not worth their time, that smart, independent are fantastic, men who even appreciate women and their achievements, who treat us as their equals. Unfortunately, we never acknowledge them. These are your friends, your brothers, your father, your colleagues – just look around you, they are everywhere. Sweet, uncomplicated guys, whose lives we screw with in our anger.

These are the men who truly and honestly believe that there is absolutely no difference between themselves and women (except of course, biologically). These are men, who understand (vaguely, albeit), how annoying menstrual cramps can be, and exactly how we feel when it comes to shopping, love, sweets, or babies. These are guys who are sensitive to feelings, and although they may show it poorly – they do care. These are the guys who will make complete fools of themselves just to see you smile on a difficult day. The guys, who will hold your hand and tell you to not worry when you are dying in pain. The guys, who will tell you funny stories when you are low. Guys, who will tell you that you are wonderful, no matter how badly you may have misbehaved. Guys, who will drive you home safely (without acting condescending) when you are drunk out of your brains (even if they may not support drinking). Men, who love you no matter what. Men, to whom you shall always be a princess. Men, who will stick by you no matter what. You grow a beard, have a child out of wedlock, have a tantrum and yell obscenities, give up your job, lose yourself over heartbreak – it just doesn't matter. They will be there for you.

But what do we do? We take these guys for granted. Even if there was ONE stupid occasion when we called them and they couldn't answer or couldn't show up – we put them in the “jackass” files. We completely forget all those times when they were there for us. We think “Ah, he’s a guy. They are all the same”. Thoughts like “Oh common, he’s human, he deserves a life, a second chance” are generally reserved by us for idiots who have a record of ruining our lives with their chapters of jerk-itude. Why do we think this way? Why can’t we reverse the treatment? What the hell is wrong with us? Why do we behave like men with wonderful guys, and like pathetic whining slobs with complete jerks?

If you are reading this, and if there is even one guy (or man) coming into your brain, then count your blessings. There are a lot of women in this world who have known nothing but rejection, pain and abandonment. There are more women, who have lost people – people who couldn't handle their personalities under certain circumstances. Count your blessings – if you have found even one. This man is leading a difficult life. He loves, worships & adores you – and his guy friends - the MCPs - probably think he is a weenie, at least as far as you are concerned. However, it doesn't change his beliefs, or the way he thinks about you. Prize him, love him, thank him, and don’t ever hurt him – cuz you can’t afford to lose him.

I am very lucky – I have a lot of wonderful guys in my life. My dad, my bro-in-law, some of my colleagues & my buddies – there are no words to describe how much I love you all. Thank you for being you.

You make me feel special.

The Voice of My Soul

Today, I couldn’t stop thinking of an incident that had happened when I was in 3^rd grade. I had joined a new school the previous year, and was still getting used to the fact that none of the kids around me spoke Hindi. They could only talk in Telugu or broken English, and since I did not know Telugu at all, I chose to speak to everyone in English. It made me stand out, and as a result, I was the subject of scorn and ridicule. I hardly had any friends, was constantly bullied, and was desperately trying to fit in. In the midst of my misery, my house mistress decided to put in my name for the Hindi poem recitation competition. My mother immediately jumped to my rescue – she brought a poem from someone she knew and slaved all evening to help me to recite it perfectly. Since I was blessed with a good memory, it took me very little time to memorize the poem. My mother then spent the rest of the evening in helping me practice the recitation.

I went to school the next day. As the competition began, I was terrified due to snide remarks from the other kids. Then I noticed that most of the other kids who were participating were terrible. They had all memorized the same poem – the first one in our Hindi text book, and were struggling to remember and pronounce the words correctly. Some of them just shook their head and went back to their seats. This elicited huge gales of laughter from all other kids – I saw that most kids found the floundering kids pathetic, while the ones who gave up were apparently, hilarious. So when it was my turn, I just shook my head and went back to my seat. The judges (our impatient teachers) quickly announced the winners, and made them come up to the front. I was shocked to see the “winners” - they were actually terrible. But they had won prizes since they were the only ones who could at least get through at least 2 verses of the poem.

After the results were announced, we broke for recess. Images filled my mind. My mother spending her entire evening to teach me the poem, and to help me practice. Images - in which, instead of acting like a stupid jerk, I was confidently reciting my poem much better than anyone else who won. Images of me – head raised, shoulders squared, smiling with the pride of a winner. I broke into helpless sobs, and no matter how much the other kids or teachers tried, I just could not be consoled. I cried endlessly the whole day until I reached home. Shamefacedly, and till sobbing, I told my mother the whole thing as I sobbed at the floor. I could not bring myself to look into her eyes and see her disappointment in me. I did not understand my own feelings then, but the guilt of wasting my mother’s efforts, of hiding my own talent, of letting my mother & myself down, and of not having made use of the opportunity when I had it was weighing very hard on my 8 year old conscience.

My mother consoled me like no one else could – probably because she could understand exactly how I felt, and what I needed at that moment. However, that moment was definitely one of the most important ones of life – as I learnt the most valuable lesson of all. That incident, among many others, helped me become what I am today. The memory of this incident makes me seize every single opportunity I get and give it my best shot today. This memory reminds me that while it is definitely easier to blend among the crowd and be a part of it by being mediocre, the worst insult I could ever give myself is to actually want to act mediocre. Today, I don’t care at all about whether or not I fit in with everyone else around me. I embrace my individuality, my own uniqueness, even if it comes at a cost. Undermining my own worth is not something which my soul will allow me to do. I strive to be the best at anything and everything I do – at least, I give it an honest try. For, anything that I do should always be at the best possible level to which my abilities allow me. If that makes me insanely competitive, then so be it – because anything less would be the worst way in which I could humiliate my own self. The voices of other people – be it of praise or rejection – matters very little compared to the voice of my soul. This is the only voice, the only opinion that really matters.

A Nap to Forget. The Strength in our Earth.

Seems random? Not so much.

Bored with non-fiction, I decided yesterday to go to my favorite bookstore for some fun browsing and coffee. I was going through some books, when I came upon a few titles in the Romance genre. I flipped through their summaries – and many of them had a recurring theme. About an average young guy or girl, and how cynical and normal their lives are. But when one of them contracts a terminal illness, it transforms their personality and attitude. In some of these books, the lead characters find their true love after they contract a terminal illness, and it is this love which helps them fight all odds and rise above the challenges. All of the books had one thing in common – it is only after being faced with the possibility of death, do the lead characters realize the true meaning and value of life.

Most people will feel that such books and movies are very touching, and I know a lot of people who find themselves in tears. These stories are indeed touching at times, because in real life, when a person is in the horrible situation of being terminally ill or permanently injured, he or she will find that life changes completely. Some of them are lucky, and survive through their pain with terrific support from family or friends. Many others find that most of their old friends start avoiding them and drift apart. Most people are generally uncomfortable dealing with such situations, and don’t know what to say when they happen.

A lot of people with terminal illnesses, especially women, have also reported that their spouses don’t give them the support they need, and automatically assume the worst. Many women have been abandoned by their spouses after being diagnosed with cancer. Their husbands feel that any time or money spent on them is simply going to be wasted. Even if the doctors suggest alternative courses of treatment which give some hope of survival, they feel that it the bet is too risky, and pull out. Thus, they move away and try to start a new life with healthier partners. So, to people who have been abandoned by friends and family, these stories are indeed inspiring. These stories teach healthy people what is expected of them when a loved one falls ill or gets permanently injured. They give hope to people who are sick or injured – that someday, they too will find the love and emotional support they need to embrace life and feel the will to live.

Personally, I absolutely, from the bottom of my heart, detest these stories. I feel that they are incredibly stupid, unnecessarily soppy, and full of shit, apart from being a little insensitive (unintentionally, of course). Firstly, I feel that it is insensitive to romanticise a life threatening disease. I mean, when I love someone – a friend, a spouse, a relative – anyone for that matter, I love them for who they are. I try to make sure as much as possible that they know exactly what I feel about them. If they need me, I will make damn sure that I am there for them. If there is anything which I can do to make them feel happy in any way, or if there is something I can do to help them achieve their dreams, I would definitely do so.

My point is – why wait until someone falls terminally ill to do this? Is expressing your love really that difficult for you? If it is, then I am sorry – but you probably don’t deserve to have such relationships at all. I mean – that movie “A Walk to Remember” is considered to be a giant romantic classic. But why? What if the girl did not have cancer? What if she was perfectly normal? Would the guy have tried to fulfill her dreams any way? I don’t think so. They would have probably dated for a while, but would have eventually drifted apart. He wouldn’t have married her to fulfill her dream of being married in her mother’s white dress. He wouldn’t have spent that much time writing long sappy wedding vows. He would have probably never even felt so much in love with her. They would have been just an average teenage couple whose story, in all likelihood, would end at prom night. What I want to say here is – is this really true love? Or is it just sympathy? Or some kind of psychosomatic reaction to the fact that his girlfriend’s time was limited – like the way kidnapping victims have Stockholm’s Syndrome? These stories may appear extremely romantic – but reality is starkly different. Watching a loved one suffer is living hell. Suffering from a terminal illness is physically and mentally exhausting – these people rarely have the energy to go on world tours, wear wedding gowns, have babies, or even feel anything at all.

I believe that real love, true love – whatever you call it – is about being there for someone at all times. I feel that if you really love someone, you would do everything you can to make them feel wonderful every day, any day. Taking someone for granted all the time and then suddenly getting all misty eyed when you realize that they may leave you soon - is not love. While it is a wonderful thing to be supportive and loving to a person who may or may not survive, I feel that the movies and books of today forget the most essential point – that love is unconditional, and that mere sympathy is not love. I don’t think that love is so shallow – that its importance is only defined by the existence of an expiration date. Somehow, over the years, we have become so preoccupied with the notion of “I take you in sickness” that we have forgotten about the more crucial “I take you in health” part. Life is indeed short – and it would do us a whole world of good to embrace the fact as soon as possible. We all need to get over ourselves, and learn to love with an open heart and mind. 

The Door to Happiness

I have heard of people constantly going on about their search for the “One”. About how it is better to end up with somebody, because the alternate is to be completely alone for the rest of one’s life. And thus, the race begins. For women, this quest begins at the age of 4 or 5. All fairytales preach this exact thing – the ultimate goal is to find that perfect someone and live happily ever after.

Some very brave people asked the question – “What if we don’t find anyone? What happens then?” History says that such questions have been met with incredulity, sternness and more often than not – ridicule. The immediate answers to this question would be “Oh dear! You cannot say that! You have to find someone!” or “You don’t want to wind up all alone” or “Would you like to die knowing that there will be no one to mourn you?” And then these brave people are left speechless. As per popular opinion – the speechlessness is a result of self-doubt and disbelief. It is the result of feeling not being quite sure of what to say.

People – gear up. It’s the digital age. It is perfectly fine – to not have found a soulmate. It is perfectly fine, to want to live life on one’s own terms rather than compromise to the extent of losing one’s identity. After all, in today’s world, “Happily ever after” is very hard to find. Mostly, its “compromise and keep adjusting”, or “end up divorced”. I am not ridiculing the idea of love & marriage – some people do find a love that matures over time. People do find lasting companionship – the right mix of passion, friendship and trust. Some others settle for what is available, and find happiness within their circle of influence. They work hard at their relationships, and even if the love loses some of its sparkle over time, they compromise and create a situation for themselves that they are comfortable in.

But what about some others who are not willing to give up? For some, “settling” isn’t a very good option – these are the people who know exactly what they want. And they realize, that they are not willing to settle for anything but dazzles. Society might say that these people are being unrealistic, and that over time, even the greatest, most dazzling love loses some of the sparkle. Logically – society does have a point. Would Romeo and Juliet continue to love each other with their blinding passion if they hadn’t died tragically? Would Cleopatra and Anthony still have the same fiery passion if their love story had ended with marriage and kids?

I now put forth my argument – is it really wrong to expect nothing but the best? Are the IIT aspirants in our country crazy for spending much of their childhood in cramming textbooks? Are the casting directors of movies completely nuts for spending months over finding the right actor to play an important role? Were Picasso and Monet insane for spending sleepless nights to get every brushstroke right? Just like these people, are certain singles wrong for expecting nothing but the best?

In today’s world, there is a new breed of people. I call these people “steadfast singles”. These people realize that their life is fantastic the way it is. They have wonderful friends and family, and great jobs. They are extremely passionate about everything that they do, and have plenty of hobbies that take up all of their free time. These people never feel old – they only feel wiser and better as they grow older. They have wonderful lives, and are perfectly happy in being alone. They dislike being in relationships, because relationships take up too much of their time and energy – which they would rather devote towards their careers or hobbies. There are plenty of successful people in the world who have led wonderful lives without having to settle. There are also plenty of not very successful, but happy middle aged people who are single (either chronic bachelors or divorced) with exciting lives and/or a sense of inner peace.

They say that when one door closes, another opens. I believe that if one door closes, 5 or even 10 other doors open – providing we are willing to keep our eyes open to them, and not just lament about the door that’s closed. When steadfast singles shut the door on the experiences of marriage and parenthood, it is not necessary that misery and loneliness has to follow. They have, in fact, opened their minds to the other wonderful things that life has to offer. They explore the doors to wonderful friendships, great fitness, spiritual awareness, satisfying careers, and extraordinary adventures.

I would like to say something here to people who snort in derision to the idea of being a steadfast single. We have no control over our futures. We can’t change the past. We only have the present, and the present is wonderful – if we choose to see it that way. The digital world has opened a new freedom movement in society – and the entire point of the new movement is to respect individual choices. It is our choice to decide - whether to take the plunge and settle for the next person we find, or to take life as it comes and turn each day into an exciting opportunity. Rather than insisting that “Happily ever after” is the ultimate goal, we should accept the fact that “Being happy each day” is also a great choice. 

Reflections

There are a few things about which our feelings just don’t change. As we move on through life, we often go through several drastic changes in our own personalities. I, for instance, wouldn’t even recognize “college me”. And “college me” would think that I am a split personality between being a total nutcase and an Indian Martha Stewart. Come to think of it, college me wouldn’t recognize the woman writing this blog, or for that matter, even know who Martha Stewart is!

One of these things for me is moonlight. I have always, always been a sucker for the moon. There is something so beautiful, so pure, so magical, about it that it always calms me down and makes me feel special. There are a few moonlit nights which I distinctly remember – the “Id ka Chaand” during the Ramzan festivals, the beautiful full moon on a late night drive when I was returning from a college concert, the silvery orb that hung slightly above the office building one particularly tiring night when I left office late, the dripping line of silver from the mystic, cat’s eye like moon in Goa, the shimmering night when my dog died – covered with wounds, my tears and moonlight.

When I had first moved to Mumbai, I hated it. Mumbai was crowded, humid and extremely uncomfortable. I was extremely rattled to find that I had left the comforts of home to move into a city which kicked my ass almost every day. Just when I was feeling homesick – I saw the city bathed in the silvery moonlight – and I fell in love. The moonlight showed me what daylight hadn’t – that Mumbai was a city with a heart of its own. Over the years, my own heartbeat has got in sync with the city’s - and there is nothing I love more (except reading and doughnuts). The moon showed me that night - how much the city was a reflection of my soul. That reflection was something which could only be seen in a divine, pure, unaffected light – like the moonlight.

I believe the main reason why I love the moon is because I connect with it. The moon is never the same always – it waxes and wanes, it changes shape. I am extremely sure that whenever I saw a full moon, there seemed to be something different about it since when I last saw it. It appears as though the moon has its moods. When it’s happy – it shines silvery, illuminating everything on the earth. When it is thoughtful or pensive – it appears faded and mystical… and melts through the dark clouds surrounding it. It is as if even though the moon is aware of her feelings, she knows it is her job to shine on – and she braves through the dark clouds that threaten to envelope her.

She waxes and wanes – but that is only for us to appreciate her full value more. If we saw her in her completeness every day, we probably would have ended up taking her for granted. She reminds us that like her, life comes in a cycle. It may seem as though happiness is fading – but it is sure to return in time. It may seem as if life is getting better and better – but like the waxing moon, it is destined to reach a peak and then fade. The moon reminds us to be hopeful when everything is hopeless, and to be humble when everything seems to be wonderful.

I write this as I gaze out of my bedroom window. I realize that while I live in an area flooded with streetlights, and other white light coming from homes, I can always make out moonlight – it is silvery, it is serene, it is natural – and it is beautiful. It’s a presence – a reflection, an awareness of divinity. Like an angel gently slipping her warm hand in mine.

You are so full of shit – aren't you?

This article is dedicated to all the judgmental people out there. Hate you guys …. You suck!!!

This is the first time I have actually ever acknowledged their presence. Mostly, I pretend that they don’t exist. I treat such voices ultrasonic, such expressions faceless, and basically - to me, the space containing them is empty. They don’t deserve my time and attention - I, unlike them, HAVE a life. However, this article isn’t about turning the tables and judging them. No – I was recently faced with the unpleasant reality that while some people like me are able to ignore these morons, others can’t. And one such person was a friend of mine who was deeply hurt by someone’s very insensitive remarks. Thus, this article is for my friend – and all those of you who have fallen victim at some point to such unnecessary acid behavior. I will now start addressing all the judgmental people out there.

You walk around with hate and bitterness in your heart. You voice your opinions to anyone and everyone who will listen. As per the opinions of your cronies and you, the happy-go-lucky single girl is a leper. You will tell her and everyone else that she is a slut, and that while she can party and have fun with “strange boys” as long as she is young, she is headed towards disaster because she will one day be all alone. Strangely enough – you don’t say this to single men, unless they are in a financially better position than you/your husband/son/etc.

As per you, the young boys or girls who live in the flat above yours are nuisances who ought to be arrested. You think that Kareena Kapoor and Rihanna are big time sluts. No doubt, you would have read with glee any gossip on a tabloid which says horrible things about them. If like Nafisa Joseph, any of them fall victim to misfortune, instead of pitying them, you tell everyone “I always knew, that person was always trouble”. However, if you happen to accidentally meet them somewhere (you certainly are not among those people who would meet them on a regular basis), you wouldn't think twice before greedily begging for an autograph, or hassling them for a selfie.

You think that successful men always have double dealings with the mafia and are selfish. You think that teenagers ought to be “seen, but never heard”. You think that books and media these days are full of “unsavory stuff”, and completely enjoy the censor board’s annoying messages and forced edits on movies and serials. You think that your neighbors' kids who are studying in US are becoming “uncultured” (unless your own live abroad as well). You think that your colleague’s son is having an affair, and that other people’s daughters are sluts (unless they resemble yours in any aspect). You believe that your female colleague who just got promoted has been sleeping with the bosses, and your male colleague who got promoted is a kiss-ass. You feel that divorced people have serious mental or sexual issues. You think that rape victims deserve what they got. The list is endless.

But let’s think really hard – in this list, is anyone your friend? The real reason why you feel this way is because in the bottom of your heart, you realize that you are nothing. You have no special talent, you have absolutely no charm, and are completely boring. Probably, you even think that your own kids or spouse are unremarkable. You cannot even have a full conversation with anyone, because you can’t think of anything to say. You are facing serious insecurity issues with members of your immediate family, and bitterly realize that you don’t have the capability of changing your life.

Thus, you have no friends, and are completely alone. Being devoid of talent or personality, you develop idiosyncrasies or heavy opinions on popular people – because you think that it will make you stand out, and protect you from letting other people know the truth about you. The truth which you desperately wish you could change – that you and/or your family are completely unremarkable, boring and below average.

Do realize – people are not fools. We see right through you. Just because we tolerate you doesn't mean that we don’t. Maybe it doesn’t really matter to you – but your behavior is probably affecting your immediate family in a very negative way. While they are not our problem, do take this as a warning – DO NOT underestimate us, and learn to behave. If you cannot accept yourself or others, at least learn to keep your trap shut. There may be a few simple, innocent people who get temporarily fazed by what you tell them. Just remember – there will always be strong, powerful cynics like us who are everywhere. We will help your victims as well as every person you associate with on a daily basis to realize the truth – that you are full of shit. Don’t worry – we will never harm you physically. We just pity you – being in your head, your ego, your shoes for that matter - is the modern equivalent of inferno.

Daddy

He was, and always will be, my first love. 

He held me when I was little, and played ridiculous, humiliating games of pretending to be farm animals only to see me laugh. He hugged me, and protected me when I got scared of nightmares. He sang me lullabies, and helped me sleep when I couldnt. He pretended he couldn’t see me and made me felt wanted, needed by yelling “Oh my God, where did she go??” during Hide & Seek (although I was in plain sight. I used to stand behind the door and close my eyes, and think I was invisible). His voice would make me cackle at first, because he couldn’t find me. And after a few seconds, I would go rushing out to him because even at that age, I did not want him to worry. His trips abroad made me feel lonely. And when he would return, I would burst into tears – tears containing all those feelings I had bottled up inside me when he was gone, tears that wouldn’t stop because I had missed him so. I used to feel so possessive of his love, that I couldn’t bear it if new guests who had entered our home spoke to him, or even looked at him. Everybody had to win my approval first.

When I was eight, and was laughed at by everyone at school for having buck teeth, he was the one who told me I would win the Miss Universe title one day. When I stood second in class, he pushed me further, saying that I was his girl and that I would do him proud. And each time, no matter what place I stood at, he brought me chocolates, and proudly told everybody he knew that his daughter was a genius. When I bled from cuts and scrapes, he would put ointment on my wounds and hold me tight to make me feel safe. When I was punished by mom for being naughty, he would make me laugh and give me the strength to feel better again. 

When I got sick, he carried me over his shoulder and made sure that doctors give me their undivided attention. When I got into fights with bullying boys at school, and got into trouble with teachers, he would patiently hear my side of the story, and then defend me to the school administration. He gave me the strength to believe in myself. He taught me my worth, and stood by me through every hopeless breakup with boyfriends.

To me, he will always be my hero. Throughout the years, we have had our share of tiffs and disagreements. But I will always love him fiercely, and to me, he will always be the ideal man. Today, whenever I face criticism for being too independent and for not behaving like a damsel in distress, I feel my Baba standing next to me as I tell them to go to hell, because I know that I am right. When I speak up against injustice, or wrong-ness, I feel a voice in my head - Baba's voice - that I am doing the right thing. 

When I help people I don’t even know, it’s because of my Baba – the person to whom everybody would always go to when in need of help. When I feel frustrated, and have this crazy desire to just quit, I hear my Baba telling me – You are stronger than that! You are my kid! And when I see other girls whose fathers try to control every aspect of their lives – be it career or love – I feel angry. Angry, because I don’t understand. And I don’t really understand – because my Baba had never, ever stopped me from following my heart and my dreams.

I love you Baba. Thank you for being so wonderful. Thank you for teaching me my worth, and to know the difference between real men, and jerks. Thank you for loving me so much, and at the same time, to let me be free. I love you more than words can say. You & mom are the greatest loves of my life, and my best assets.

The Divine Meter

Dealing with pain is one of the hardest things in the world. While physical pain does have remedies – pain… when emotional, is certainly, one of the most difficult challenges ever faced by modern man & woman.

A very famous and wise person had once quoted “No one will ever understand you unless they go through the same pain”. This is perhaps, one of the simplest, and yet, most understated quotes every said. When we look around us, we see that everybody – man or woman is in some kind of emotional upheaval. Sure, the intensity may differ – while for some it may be a minor itch, for others, it feels like an abyss from which there is no return.

But it is there. Look at the quiet bespectacled girl quietly typing away at her desk. To you, she may seem the epitome of stolidity. However, deep inside she may be suffering from loneliness, an unhappy marriage, in-law troubles, or low self esteem which is unaided by the fact that her husband is having an affair. Your friend’s boss – about whose bitchiness your friend can never stop complaining – might be suffering from the pain caused by a rebellious child who has taken to bad company and whose grades are slipping each day. The fact that she also has to work for the sake of her own career not only gives her a headache, but also sends her on guilt trips.

So how do people cope with pain? For some who are lucky – family and friends offer a solid support and relief. Talking things out with those who understand you and love you – no matter what – can be like the nectar of life. Some others are equipped with the god given gift of compartmentalization. Such people lock away their pain in a little box at the back of their mind, and instead devote themselves wholly to other outlets – such as work or exercise.

The rest of us, who are not as lucky or as good at compartmentalization, go through trauma. No matter how hard we try, pain keeps attacking us over and over again – like a sadist who waits for his victim to recover a bit. Just when he starts to believe that the torture might be over – the sadist gives yet another round of agony. Pangs of pain – gut wrenching, stomach clinching, mind numbing, and heart snagging emotions - attack us when we are least expecting it. It could after a spa session, while waiting for the train, after lunch time, after a few drinks, between just waking to the point of being completely awake. And when it hits – we feel powerless. Hopeless. We feel like drowning victims who after a point of struggling futilely, realize that it’s better to just accept the situation and let the water take us under.

I am trying an experiment these days to deal with tough situations. I have accepted that life cannot be perfect – that there will always be ups and downs. Instead of viewing it as a sadist hell bent on torture, I view such pain causing events as a divine emotional rating meter. Just like seasons – a scorching summer is the only way people can truly appreciate the value of torrential rains. Thus, if we couldn’t ever feel pain, maybe we would never truly be able to appreciate the value of true happiness. So, I thank god with all my heart. Giving us pain is probably his way of reminding us that good things in life – like family, best friends, solitude, sound health, love – are truly divine gifts, and should be appreciated from the bottom of the heart. And so, with the knowledge that feeling pain is an indication – a preparation to be able to appreciate wonderful things in life, I rest down my pen.

To you my love..........

To you, with all my love


I dont know who I am
I dont know where I am going
I dont know what I can
Do... for this is where I am rowing

All i know is that I miss you,
And all i really want is a sign
All I really know is love is true,
All I really know is that you are mine

But why is life so complicated?
Why do we stand test to the sands of time?
Why isn't happiness for each fated?
Why is it taking you so long to be mine?

If love is true, I shall wait,
Wait until you are ready,
Ready to see that I am not someone you hate,
To understand that I can be steady

I understand.... i am a wild horse
Untamed, Unpredictable, Unruly,
But as love takes its course....
You will realize.... i do love you... truly

Some say that love is a pain...
Takes away all your focus
But these people only look for gain,
While love is really.... about us

For everytime I look at you,
All i ever feel is the truth....
An everything I do for you,
I only aim to sooth

Your heart... your bleeding soul,
To others you may appear heartless,
My mind tells me that the others have got you whole,
But to me... you are my prince... regardless

For you I wait my love...
My everlasting, my only.... love
It is only you I love,
It is only you who brings to me..... the real meaning of love!

Maya - 1

Who are you really? The question never really hits you until its a little late. You have been leading a happy go lucky life for a very long time now..... and you have come to terms with life. You realise that life isn't always rosy.... that you cant always get what you want. And you accept this.... this is a truth of life that you have accepted.

Unfortunately.... the bliss of singledom.......... this state of perfection.... isn't forever. Sooner or later... usually sooner.... things change. And that's when you realise..... you have outgrown the joys that singledom has to offer. You start realising that although mentally you still want the same things..... emotionally.... you have grown older. And suddenly..... you don't feel 18 anymore.

"Got ma first real six strings.... bought it at a five & dime,
 Played it until my fingers bled..... Was the summer of '69"

Those were indeed the best days of my life. That is what I will feel on retrospect.... when I look back into life. These are the best years of my life. Friends, love.... career..... family..... peace of mind... I have it all.

But Whose gonna be there for me when its gone? Whose gonna make me feel this way again??? Eveeryone I know.... are getting into commitments. I know that my friends will always love me. But their spouses.... well.. that's a whole diff story. A story with new shades & colours. And I so love the shades the way they are................ I cant love anything else. I cannot love anything more. I cannot accept either that this is what they call "Maya".... an Illusion. That this is a magical time which has an expiry date.

 

A Wish

Mom always says that there are 2 kinds of people in the world. The first kind are the givers - the people who always give - love, help, friendship & care - to people around them. The second kind are the takers - the ones who only keep taking stuff - materials, time, love, feelings - from as many people as possible, and still want more. The givers are the people who somehow, can just not stop caring. And the takers are the ones who will just not care.

Today, I am reminded of one of my favorite lines from the classic "Gone with the wind". The scene depicts Scarlett O Hara, watching her family members bustle in excitement & cheerfulness as they cut up her mother's old curtains to make her a dress. She alone knows in her mind, the devious plot she has hatched, for which she needed the dress. She knew that what she planned to do was entirely shocking, and was something her dead mother would feel very ashamed about. She realized  that in order to survive, and to ensure the safety of her dead father's property & the well being of her remaining family, she was going to do something which she would have probably never even thought about, if the war had not changed the world. She realized, that she had indeed, changed. Her core values, her morals had changed. But the people she cared about - the people for whom she had had to change, were still exactly the same people they were before the war. They could still afford to be themselves, and believe in the old values of the past, values which she was taught and values which she had prided herself for, because she had changed for them. And this was not something they realized. The irony was that if they had any idea what her plans were, they would be shocked, and would judge her to no end. But she had to do it - because if she did not, they would never survive. 

I am among the people who care too much. I wish I did not. There is no point really - in a world like today's - who really cares? No one gives a shit about anyone - no matter what happens. People forget their so called "best friend's" birthday, and don't bother disrupting their daily life even a little, because for them, their comfort zone is too important. I care, and so I decided to take the effort, because someone had to. And now, I am going to be judged - just because I asked people to step out of their comfort zones - just a little. But if I stopped caring, if I too continued behaving like everyone else, then there would be nothing left. But is this something which people realise? No they don't. They don't realise that they can all remain in their comfort zones & gossip & judge me, because I am the one keeping all of them together.

Maybe the fault lies with me. It is not necessary to care so much. Why should I spoil my relationships with people, & fight for others when I know perfectly well that its of absolutely no use? I wish I knew the answer. I wish.. I knew why even after millions of experiences  why I continue to care, why I cant become like the others. I wish I knew why I was such a masochist. I wish I could just not bother, and stop caring. I wish the pain would go away - a pain that has become all to familiar now. I wish I could just continue being merry & make politically correct statements whenever it mattered, and all the time ensuring that I don't have to even lift a single finger to help anyone.

Cultural Dilution

I had a long hard day. In fact, I had a long hard week, although, my week had started on Wednesday, when I got back to work from a great holiday. Over the last few weeks, I have had a lot of interesting conversations with friends, family & colleagues. All of their views have got me thinking on the subject - What is right & What is Wrong?

Ours is a society which is based on ancient tradition. This ancient tradition, over the years, changed several shades due to political & cultural influences froun invaders across the world. Now, our old, glorious tradition is almost lost - and all that remains is a half hazard, confused concoction which no one can really connect to. You may meet several people during the day who are very religious & culture conscious - they diligently offer prayers in their place of religion, they observe various traditions, give/take dowry as per their own sect's custom, arrange for ridiculously expensive weddings which could explain the reason why most western nations dont regard Indian poverty very seriously, and frown upon women who are "forward". Yet - when you have an in depth conversation with them about their customs, and delve deeper into their thoughts to understand why they stand by their traditions - they dont really have a satisfying answer. A satisfying answer would be either a logical one - giving a firm reason to why such and such activity should be performed due to x,y,z effects over society or oneself - or would simply be that believing gives them faith, and faith gives them strength to forbear the hardships of life.

But no - all you get are confused arguments, and hurriedly ended conversations. The main reason is that most people in our country do what they do simply because they have been programmed that way. This would also explain, the brutal rape case in Delhi. Dont get me wrong - women in our country have been raped continuously since forever. However, this particular case is particularly heart wrenching, simply because the nerve of the culprits has shaken everyone to their bone.

Somehow - I dont quiet digest the uproar. In ancient India, women were revered, respected & had an equal place in society. Hinduism is probably, one of the few religions in the world which have an equal number of male & female dieties. Some of the female dieties are in fact, considered to be more powerful under given circumstances than their male counterparts. The reason for all these values is the dilution of culture. And by culture - I dont mean religions. No religion on the planet encourages rape, torture & murder. Every religion preaches love, respect & mutual harmony. The cultural dilution happened because most of the outsiders who settled here were barbarians, conquerers, who used various techniques to break the steady harmony in this great land, divide its people, create differences & confusion & corrupt minds - to rule.

What we should remember is that we are no more ruled by barbarians. However, their dirty imprints still remain. The judicial system in India is now so complicated, that even for a terrorist like Kasab, who was seen killing & murdering hundreds of innocent people with great pleasure on camera in national television, the decision of capital punishment was given after 5 long years of trails & appeals. In India, the cultural dilution has become so intense, that a woman's safety, which was once considered one of the sacred dharmas for men, has now become a public joke. The wonderful constitution of India, does not consider rape to be worthy of capital punishment, or even life long imprisonment. Additionally, marital rape & forced anal or oral penetration is not even classified as rape. Punishments pertaining to molestation & other forms of assault are embarrasing, to say the least.

Even if there is complete evidence of the crime being committed, the court can take at least 4-5 years to reach a decision. And even if the court does take the right decision, "Human Rights" organisations spring out of nowhere demanding that the accused be let free, as he as already served the requisite number of years while awaiting trail. Politicians involve their dirty shit, making things murkier. Media takes things to even lower levels, by constantly flashing pictures of the victims & their family, while considerately protecting the accused. All the ruckus goes on for a few days - maybe a few weeks, and then people move on. After all, everyone has jobs to do, lives to live, & families to feed. The media move on to a new scandal, and life goes on.

So as ordinary citizens, as ordinary female citizens, what can we do? I would love to fight for the girl - see to it that all the culprits are publicly tortured & killed  - only after they beg for mercy. But I am only one person. It feels very nice to say that one person can make a difference- blah, blah. Fuck that shit. The truth is that practically, I feel useless & helpless. I know that the real problem is the culture dilution - and its effects. The way our society is. The way it treats educated, ambitious, frank & free spirited women. The way eve teasers are considered adorable - watch the new ad with the cricketer teaching his pals how to hit on gals. I know that I alone cannot change the country in one day.

Thus, I will pray. I still believe in God. My roots have always taught me that God acts in mysterious, but sure shot ways. I pray to the lord to have pity on the poor girl, on her parents, on other helpless women like her in this country who are constantly under the fear of attack. I pray to God to let me live to see the day when parents bid their daughters good bye each morning without worrying about their safety. I pray to God to let that glorious age return once more, when men & women mutually respected one another, and worked hard towards common goals rather than demonise themselves as well as society with corrupt thoughts of lust, control & power.

P.S. - I will always love you

True love - the one elusive question that makes us all wonder. Some of us ..... who are fortunate ..... end dying in the arms of our beloved.

Let me define beloved here ......... its the one person who truly makes our heart beat.Listening to their voice makes us feel like we are a totally different person. When you talk to your beloved - every other problem in  life - be it financial... be it professional.... just sherds apart. All you can hear is his wonderful, comforting voice.... and all you can think about is how much you want to be with him. He is the one who your world revolves around. When he is with you..... you feel complete.... you feel wonderful.... you feel... like your existance in this hot, flat, crowded earth is justified. You feel like you can fight the world and return undefeated. You realise that without him.... life is meaningless.... and that he is who defines you... soul, mind & body.

The order is important. This is not some stupid, teenage crush that will just come and go. You have just realised.... that this man is your soulmate. You dont wanna live life with anyone else.... because life with the "ONE" doesnt seem scary. You can open up to him, be your neurotic self with him... and still find him snoring blissfully next to you in the morning. He wont "run away" because your passion scares him... he wont run away because your past scares him.... all he knows is that he loves you... and that he cant live without you.

Why is the world so cold? Why does the whole world have to be involved when 2 people are in love?? why cant they realise that they have no business being involved... that it isnt their lives?

Unfotunately...... he cares. He doesnt want to... but thats just the way it is. And you cannot blame him for wanting to do things right.... because he wants more than love.... he wants to build a life. Plus, he has his morals. He would never wanna hurt ppl who are close to him.... and esp you.... cuz he knows what you have been through..........and he doesnt wanna be added on to the list of people who have hurt you &  scarred you.

This is eactly the reason why good couples never get far. It is this goddammned fear that makes life a living hell. The point is that when you know that you are right.... when you know what your heart is telling you... you can never be wrong. And when your heart is never wrong... you dont have to worry about anything else. Fear is the worst enemy. It makes you underestimate yousrself... makes you doubt your own capabilities.... makes you feel dull, dark and depressed because it makes you feel completely & utterly helpless.

Be brave. Courage is one of the most important virtutes. What is even more important than courage is the ability to understand the direction in which your heart is pointing you. Listen to your heart.... for your heart is innocent...and only knows what is right. The heart is never wrong... and as long as you follow your heart.... you will always be happy... and the people around you shall always be happy because you continue spreading the joy there is in your heart.

In the Quest for Perfection

Life is wierd. It tries its best at first, to show you that there can be more to it. You dont want to believe - you are not really interested. There is work to be done, and responsibilities to be shouldered. But life keeps pushing all its beautiful things right in your face. And you cannot help but notice. The warm look in your friend's face - when he gently insists that its late and that you should be dropped home. You try and resist - you are after all a big girl, and you can manage. You have always managed in the past, and there is no sense in believing now that things are different. But then you look in his eyes, and realise that you should just let go - it would make him so happy. You give in.

There are many other such things - which life keeps pushing. The beauty of the full moon, hidden in clouds. The sound of the sea in mild tide. The sudden wind blowing your hair gently on a humid evening. The fragnance of roses from the flower shop on the way to the station. The gentle warmth of the sun after battling through meetings in the heavily air conditioned office. The fullness and perfectness of the magenta sun as it gives its last rays of light before it moves on to the other side of the world. The mischievous grin on your neighbour's son as he sneaks in through your door to retrieve his ball. These are a few things which you just cant resist - they make you feel human.

But then - just when you start believing that your life is perfect, and you have made your peace with the fact that you are destined to live in a particular way - life starts bitching. It then takes such a marvellous hair pin turn, that you start spinning out of control. Suddenly - its not so perfect anymore. And you are left feeling confused.

I saw "Rockstar" recently. Definitely not one of the best movies - it was overly long, and they could have easily ended the movie perfectly an hour in advance, instead of dragging it endlessly to infinite boredom. Sometimes, you just cant help thinking that Bollywood movie directors are either complete fools, or are just plain sadists. They just dont realise that people - their target audience are a tired, tired bunch, who at the end of a long week just dont have the patience to appreciate BS.

But the music was simply amazing. And they managed to show one thing perfectly - that the perfect love story simply cannot exist. When 2 people are in love, any one of the scenarios will happen. 1. They end up together, but eventually break off. 2. Society's rules doesnt let them stay together. There will be angry parents, dozens of rules, things like caste, religion, war, etc stopping them from being happy together. and 3. Everything works out - society just gives up being its bitchy self, and accepts that nothing can stop the 2 of them from being together. And then, one of them dies.

Some people may argue that perfect loves stories do exist, and this is just what they show in movies. But believe me - I have seen a lot of life, and surely, at least one of the 3 things happen. The whole question is - when does one give up?? The practical ones just give up, and settle for things which are less than perfect. The idealists ..... what happens to them?? And when they reach the point when they just cant take heartbreaks anymore - what do they do????

Emptiness

Feeling alone and miserable is a familiar feeling. You feel this way generally when you have lost something really important in life. It could be your job, someone you loved, a relationship, a friendship, anything. At these times, they say that the best thing to do is to keep a brave heart, and introspect. Even better, try and spend time with someone totally unrelated to your own tragedy. Keeping your mind occupied on other, simpler things eases the pain. Soon, you start feeling more normal again. The pain which you felt before from your loss lessens. You feel as though it was all a part of a distant dream – something that happened several million years ago. You think about yourself as a person now and then, and then realise – exactly how much you have changed.


But then it happens again. And again. Several times. Fate plunges its knife at you several times, like a serial killer gone completely psychotic. You keep telling yourself – This time, I have learned. Like Eminem – you firmly vow – There will be a No next time. Unfortunately, real life isn’t like the Simpsons. It isn’t a show where someone will read the moral of the story, and you move on. Real life is a lot more complicated than that. You end up becoming a victim – helpless, defenceless, and wounded.

But what is the end product of this mess? You start feeling completely empty. This is the price your soul pays after your dignity has been attacked – not once, but several times. You lead a normal life as per social norms – you meet up with people, you go to work, you party, read – do all the stuff which a normal happy person usually does. But deep down inside, you know that it really isn’t you. Your heart is just not in it. You realise that every single word out of your mouth is purely mechanical – you feel like a robot which has been specially programmed to behave human. Someone cries – you offer sympathy. Someone laughs – you laugh with them. You have a one night stand with some random guy – you smile and say goodbye. But you know that deep down inside, you don’t feel a thing.

But there is always hope. And this is the magic of life. It takes a hit at you yet again – but from a completely different side. And when it does, instead of feeling miserable and angry – or even empty – you actually feel wonderful. Because the hurt that you feel, the pain that makes you well up – makes you realise that you are not completely stone. There are still feelings left in you – there is still something. And this is the something that you have to hang on to.

Maybe you will not get exactly what you wanted. Maybe you will not get where you wanted to be, in the time that you expected. But you gotta realise – life is a huge gamble. You play right, you win. And the key to playing right, is to trust your own instincts. And if you lose – well, you have to survive that.

The Gamble that is Love

Nah, this isnt about a dog. Its not even as serious as it sounds... nobody died, and so if you are expecting something dead serious, then you can think again.



Its just that sometimes... Well, most of the time, life is a real bitch. It gives you a whole new world.. it makes you feel as though you rule. But then, it takes it all away. You suddenly find someday that you have been living in a dream, and that everything is not what it seems. Its like - the joke's on you, and you never knew it all along.



There are a lot of movies about love, and life. That whole thing about finding yourself, and who you are, and then finding true love, and knowing yourself enough to say that it is what you really want - well, in my opinions its all crap. Thats because most of these movies only tell you the good stuff that makes you believes things which are statistically improbable. They conviniently leave out all those little things which really defines life or relationships. Smart n confused boy/gal oneday suddenly gets it all - career, life, social status and love, because of some event that occurs in the movie. There are also a lot of movies that tell you to be courageous - to kiss slowly, confess quickly, laugh loudly, and love truly. They dont however, tell you how to deal with times when you feel as though your life is an abyss - like its stuck at one point, and no matter how much you try, you just cant move past.



But here is what I feel. I feel that its not about "finding courage". Its more like "taking the gamble". Its all very easy to believe all the crap that movies,songs and books throw out at you, not to mention all the gyaan you recieve from various people around you - well wishers of course. But when what you fear the most happens, when you lose the person you love the most because you believed a bit too much, or too soon, then you find yourself all alone. You dont really wanna be with any of those well wishers, and you only feel like screaming when you see movies, or read romance novels. And you dont even want to be with your friends - because although they are concerned about your sadness, they dont really get it. And there are certain things, which no one can ever tell or advise you. FOr instance, no one can tell you what to do when you feel desparate. No one tells you how to deal with gnawing feelings of loss, and how to shut that stupid voice in your head, which keeps reminding you of the way the whole situation started - because of your own impromptu decision. No one can tell you what to do or how to make yourself feel better when a voice in your head keeps saying over and over again - This is your own fault.



So basically, you come to the conclusion that it is useless to even believe that there is something called as the "perfect love story" or even "perfect relationship". Take a look in the chronicals - have the people who have been in perfect love stories ever lasted? Romeo and Juliet died tragically, So dod Laila & Majnu, Heer & Ranjha, Sohni and Mahiwal - even in P.S I love you, the couple had a perfect love story - which ended in tragedy because Gerry got a tumour and died. The rest of the stories in the world - either end in complete boredom where love eventually dies a sad death, or the people who get married just end up compromising on everything, and focusing on other aspects of life.



Is it worth making such a decision? Just to shut the mouths of nosy neighbours and annoying relatives, is it really worth gambling your life away, and then conceeding to be in a marriage that is just not you? Or is it worth taking the risk and admitting your love to the perfect someone when you meet them, knowing that it would most probably end in heartbreak, and the subsequent loss of a wonderful friend from your life forever? Is the perfect love story - which has everlasting passion, friendship, joy and companionship - and which is so elusive for some reason only god knows - worth the risk?

Finding a reason to live

There is no way by which I can begin this post. How does one start to describe their feelings when they have lost every reason to live? When life looks like an endless obstacle course, with absolutely no goal to bear them for? Everything feels just too depressing, things which I once cared about feel meaningless, and there is absolutely no reason for me to go on.

Random thoughts - what if I end it all? everything would be over. No matter what people say, about living life, about appreciating the value of life, etc, etc... all feels like bullshit. The truth is that there is no end to the nonsense which the world will put you through. the world has changed now... it is no more a place where people who are loving, caring and straightforward can survive. there is only place for the mean, the cowardly, the uncaring, the selfish, and the people who never reveal what they are really thinking, even if it were god standing before them. If the whole world is this way, then there is no use of being yourself. And if you cannot be yourself, there is no point in living.

People are weird these days.I remember the good old days when we were taught that as long as your intentions are good, you will always be able to get your message through. Not anymore. people these days judge everyone according to the way they see themselves. if they themselves are capable of cheating, lying and manipulating someone, they automatically assume you are too. No one stops to think that you are a different person, and that you may have genuine reasons for your actions. There is absolutely no logic applied in such situations - people simply judge you the way they want to, since they just need a reason to reject you from their lives. And you may fall dead before them, but they will never admit that this is how they feel.


And so, one may ask, what is the whole point of living? It is all a lie - the truth is that no one gives a rat's ass. And after all the money and the power in the world, what is the use when you cannot share it with people who you really love? and someone who loves you back - with all your faults.

This isn't a suicide note. All I was trying to do is introspect into the minds of the people who feel this way. But the, i feel at times like this, it is like working the treadmill. It feels extremely exhausting as you are running on it - the blood is pounding through your head. You feel that you need to hit the emergency stop button - and now. But then there is a voice whispering - just a little more, just a little more. And then your workout completes ultimately. You then feel extremely proud of yourself - because you did not give up.

Maybe that what life is all about. Pushing yourself to test your own limits of forbearance. So maybe, giving life another chance is worth it. Maybe we don't need to find a reason right now - maybe we should, for a change, let the reason find us.