Risk of thoughts

Simple, the word, how much ever I use it my life it becomes more complicated. Friends, the more there are, the lonelier I feel. Studies, the more I learn, the more I question my abilities. Rains, the more it falls the more it is critiqued. Love, the less I care the more it hurts…
Why is it that way, that when you plan to mend the plumbing you find more leaks? Or when you plan to stop the bleeding the more the cotton goes red.

Why can’t I say it straight? I claim to be the bluntest person. Well if not on the entire planet than at least in the closest five mile radius. When I go to express my feelings I can only spin riddles.

If one is being led, he cringes for freedom to express himself. And when he gets it he just wants to throw the ring back at you and say lead. Well at least that is me.

Can I stop fretting about the numerous things I can’t digest. Can I stop fretting about how I can’t change people? No not really. From counsellors to psychiatrist (read aunts to friends) all have warned me about caring too much. Is it possible to ignore that one human quality that I understand the most? Why is care now considered to be interference?

Care, this four letter word- why is so difficult to find. How can an entire human race that is built on the fundamentals of care and love, want to criticise those who are truthfully concerned.

Well may be not the entire human race. Some are busy pampering themselves; they don’t realise that the one next to them is lost in silence of gloom.

When did this happen? How come things became so complicated? When did a simple thing such as the best way to do something right is subjected to ones perspective?

These questions of mine might seem like babble but for me they are the questions which I pen down and then forget; only to be written again.

Have you ever felt like transforming into that character in that television soap or a movie just because they have a good family or great friends or even because they are thinner than you?

Don’t get me wrong I love my life and definitely would not trade it for anyone else’s even though I crib at times about my (so called) sorrows (I hate this word- makes me sound like a drama queen; for that matter anyone.) I have worked too hard on my life to give up now when things have begun to fall into place.

If I sit to write, my never ending thoughts will flow out my brain and heart and flood the document. These thoughts are not something new that I have discovered. You may have felt the same. I write it down not because I am bored but because I like to let go of these thoughts hidden in the dark chambers. The only difference would be my choice of words or language.

These are not the words of someone on the verge of suicide. That is just not my style. Neither of someone eternally depressed. Anyone who knows me will be able to vouch for that. They are just thought bubbles waiting to scream till their lungs hurt.

I am happy. (I am telling this to myself more than you.) I have travelled to different places, met different people and have had a lot of great vegetarian food.

I write this because I am on a quest for simplicity (don’t confuse it with normalcy- another word I hate). The moment I find it, I will write another billion words to explain how I did. But till then confusion and queries is all I have.

Enough is enough

How is it that people keep bitching about others but hate to hear anything about them? If someone is rude to you, you keep pestering yourself about that person but if anyone is good to you, you take them for granted. Why is it that when they treat you bad you are hurt, but if they tell you about their feelings you become all emotional? Hypocrisy to the core is what this is.

Life is not complicated. We make it complicated by letting such ignorant fools in our life. We always make excuses for others behaviour and keep explaining our behaviour. Why do we wait for approval when all the other person does is reject you. When they don’t need your advice, why wait on them hand and foot.
I am sick and tired of the above mentioned people and hereby pledge to keep away from such losers. It isn’t that I will die if I don’t have their company. Some people don’t give that easily. I am one of them. I keep changing my behaviour hoping to get their acceptance. This makes me look like a beggar with no self-respect. I gain their acceptance but in bid lose my self- respect.

Why do I want their acceptance? It is because I have accepted them as an important part in my life. Basically if I decide this person is important, it is then that all this above drama kicks into action. So I first have to give a ‘rat’s arse’ to get rid of this drama.

Is it that I am a dumb blonde who is dependent on others for a social life? Frankly speaking I will be more than happy to curl up in a corner with a good book. Without them will I have no human touch? Of course not, the places in my life for close and near ones are full and I need no added baggage. For anyone to stereotype me I have to allow them and from now I formally strip everyone of the privileges of categorizing me.

All I want to do is live my own life to the fullest extent doing what I please and I need no Tom, Dick and Harry’s permission to do so. So I bid good-bye to all those monsters in my life who I had till now given the permission to hurt me. This write-up is an announcement of farewell to the threats to my happiness.
Get ready to welcome a new me who gives a ‘rat’s arse to any dumb nonsensical torture on earth or above.

Forced together

That day my mother was lazing in her favourite corner with a telugu magazine. I had just returned from college when out of the blue; water started seeping into the house. It had happened many times before. So we simply climbed onto our beds to avoid the water. As we were stuck, all we could do was stare out the window.
In a matter of few minutes, the flood had risen to knee length. Hence, we lost hope of the rain subsiding, and went upstairs to Asha aunty’s house. There we saw our other ground floor neighbours: the Roy family, the Shetty family and Shankaran family. The other members of the building had also come to console. This was the first time I saw all the residents of Harikripa come together in one tiny hall. Asha aunty was very pleased as she could play the host.
After a few hours Mr. Manjerekar suggested that we should bring our Television sets upstairs. So Uncle John’s son Verghese and I volunteered. We burst out laughing as we pulled out the 21” TV from my semi-flooded flat. It is yet to be known how it worked for a year without repair. By the end of the evening we, a total of 15 people including Asha auntys family, were the only ones left.
For the next two days the ground floor residents of Harikripa building had become homeless. We made the best of what food and water was left. As there was little water, each family would share one plate. With so many people under one roof, we kept each other entertained and tried not to get on any ones nerves. No one could complain about the stink as it could have been him/her.. We were cut from the outside world and tried to listen to the radio on our phones.
Ironically we were cramped up in a 650 square feet flat for 48 hours with those we couldn’t tolerate for more than 48 seconds.

‘A home away from home.’

It is a two storied building with small rooms. Once a bungalow, its owner converted it to small rooms to rent it out. No one apart from the owner knows its name. It has eight rooms with common toilet and bathroom. Four steps lead you to the first room. It has a blue door with ‘Joshi’ etched on it. This is a compact room owned by Kaku (meaning aunty in Marathi). It is the biggest room in the building. It looks like a pathway to another room. If you are taller than five feet you have to bend little to keep yourself from getting hurt.
As soon as you enter, you will see two grey cupboards on the left. Next to the cupboard is a rusted red colour refrigerator with a BPL 20” television set on top of it. On the opposite side there is one cot for the ever flowing guest. This is where the hall ends. Take another step ahead and you are in the kitchen. One compulsory item in the kitchen is a steel basket with white onions, a must with every dish served in Kaku’s house. On the left there is a long black platform which ends with a sink.
When Kaku’s son Sanjay got married, they added a loft. Once in the loft, you cannot stand. It had just two beds and a night stand with a night lamp. A ladder, leading to the loft, was fixed between the refrigerator and the platform. I used to stand on the 4th step and watch Kaku cook. I would often mimic her and would dream of one day doing the cooking like her. On the opposite side there is a shelf. The shelf contains photographs, groceries, books and sometimes linen. The shelf always had a bug of chocolates that we would steal in Kaku’s absence.
During festivals, the black floor of the tiny kitchen would temporarily take the colour white. Big steel boxes full of different kind of ‘laddos’ would be stacked neatly under the shelf. Kaku would sit with her big aluminium boxes and huge plates to make sweets. If we were lucky we could assist her in making the sweet even if it meant only handing her a spoon.
A white door leads to the backyard (if one may call it so). On the left there is a small green tiled patch with attached taps. I call it an open-air washroom for washing clothes and bathing little kids. To go to Aunty Mary’s home (another small room), one will have to walk through Kaku’s house and go via the open-air washroom. This was also our stage for various dances. Often in the afternoon when the tiles were dry we would sit there and play games. If you step take a right and walk around the large shoe-flower trees you will come back to the front which was where we played cricket and badminton.
Though the room was small, there was always room for more people. In the entire room, my favourite spot was the white ladder. Here, I spent five years of my childhood. The image of the room has been etched into my brain. Even today when I close my eyes I can see the room in its full form. It has been six years since I last visited the place. Now Kaku has moved out and some strangers have occupied it. Today thought the door says a different name, for me it will always be my childhood cresh belonging to Alka Joshi- Kaku.

MOVING ON

As a young child, I never understood why my parents separated. I do not remember how and when I was informed about the divorce. Today I have vague memories of my father. When the divorce was taking place we moved to my grand-parents home. I know this for a fact but don’t remember it myself. I was only five years old then and my sister was three years old. As my mother was a working woman, we were put in a crèche. My father would come to meet us weekly. My sister and I would wait anxiously for that day. I would learn the poems taught in school and practice dance steps to show him. At times, he would take us along with him to buy dresses or chocolates for us.

I remember the look of annoyance mixed with anger on my mothers face when we showed her the gifts. She would often grumble to herself. I would think that I had done something wrong. So I would sit with my homework and do it quickly to gain her approval. My mother tried her best to keep us in the unknown but I slowly began to understand.

My sister and I were the topic of discussion for the crèche women. Though I was too young to understand what they spoke, I would understand a few words here and there like ‘poor thing where will she go with her two kids’ or the man doesn’t look so devious what must have gone wrong with the marriage.
Then one day it so happened that my father stayed a bit longer.

Usually he would leave at sharp four p.m. My sister was showing him her drawing book. A woman at the door interrupted us. That woman was my mother. She had returned from work to pick us up. For a moment, the entire scene froze like a scene from an Indian film. My father made an abrupt move and picked his bag and left. The crèche women stared at my mother move aside as my father passed by. Their eyes did not meet. The crèche is just a five minutes walk from my home. The entire way home, my mother did not speak a word. When we reached home, my mother went to the phone to call my aunt. I remember my grandfather taking us out to the garden.

I was six years old then. My mother sat me down to tell me that I was the elder sister and that I need to understand what was going on. Finally, she told me but it somehow did not affect me. I went back to playing games as usual.
Till date it has not affected me, that is my notion. Now that I am far away from my mother, I feel like I have to face my fears. Earlier I would suppress my doubts because I did not want to upset my mother. But today 24 hours away from home, I feel I can finally seek answers to my questions. I begin with googling my father’s name.

SO What!

Today was when we all received our exam hall tickets. Our attendance was marked on it so that the principal could yell at us or give us her nod. Yes those with good attendance hardly got a smile with an obligatory ‘All the Best’. I received the second gesture as I had a whopping 90% of attendance. How? is all I wonder as I was sure I would be in the danger zone. Call it my paranoia. I know you will.
The reason I write about it is because I would like to state the reactions I received. The usual but totally unjustified. Some behaved as if due to me they will also be expected to behave the same. Some showed an attitude that seemed to say I had better things to do than you in life than attending college. Yes I would think. Mostly catching up on the sleep they lost, completing their last minute assignments. Some carried an expression that said of course you could attend college because you care about it.
If I am against bunking is it my fault or their problem? Yes, it seems that way. Why join college if you can’t spare few hours of your life? Or you simply don’t because you feel you are superior to the professors? Then how is it that you don’t top? It has become a statement. If your name is not on the defaulters list then you are not of the cool crowd of your class.
And it does not stop at this. If you won a competition, such as debate or elocution or have been awarded the best student award for that matter even nominated you are to face the jokes at your expense. Especially if a professor has commented publicly about your work then you are forever written of as the teachers pet. The privilege of the above is drained off by these sadists who are sure that they can never achieve the above.
The worst is when they become hypocrites, when they are rewarded or have a good attendance. They will behave as if this is a common thing for us, the ‘Padakus’ or the intelligent ones and that they are the geniuses who could accomplish the task. We the so called gifted ones are not to take pride in our achievements because we worked hard or it is expected of us. But if criticized in a similar manner, will react in an aggressive manner to defend their honors. They seriously are the worst among the lot of the bunch you have to tolerate in your class. The jealous and ‘wanna-bes’.
A friend asked me why I waste the space on my blog, writing about such trivial issues. But I believe that such trivial issues are the ones which truly show a peep into the reality of the person.
At the end I would like to conclude that the above characters, The jealous and ‘wanna-bes’, are the ones who criticize those to the maximum alike whom they would like to be or they disapprove of those because they themselves are criticized by their peers, parents or the people they look up to for not being like these others.

Me, Myself

In this world of mine with mysteries and histories, i find myself strangely alone. With old ties broken, a to- avoid list, troubled allies and forgotten memories I begin my week.
At times you wonder is there anyone who would work so hard for you. Hardly anyone. You can make a list of friends whom you can party with, a list of friends who will call you their best friend, a list of friends who would wish you on your birthday asking for treats and a list of friends who would list your name among those they would call in emergency. These lists are frankly easy to make. But as I sit to make a list of friends, family and relatives who would be there for you even if the sky falls on your head, I find myself staring at a blank sheet. I ask myself how can that be so?
I wonder maybe I am being too rude or I can’t recognise the care of those around me. There may be those who after reading this may go, how can she say that we are they for her. And there have been many times when my friends have been my guardian angels; I call them my God- sent friends.
In life since I could think of I have come to do many things independently, from buying my own clothes to travelling places. For me my independence matters a lot. I don’t hesitate to do anything alone I go ahead. But then I look back and I hope at times only if I could have help carrying my heavy luggage or I could share my headaches or grumble with someone.
Independence comes at its own cost. It is a package of self dominance and loneliness. You take the good and throw the rest but at times another independent hand is always welcome.

Farewell is it?

Time is running fast… or it is going at a slow pace. Whatever the speed I see myself growing older by the second. My birthday is drawing nearer, the day I start work is drawing nearer, my exam date is drawing nearer, but most importantly the day to say goodbye is going to be here soon. Too soon may be.
As I go over the photos my classmates have put up on FB of the time gone by, I wonder who will I see again, who will I forget, who will remember me, who will I want to see again and who will want to see me again.
Too many questions running in my mind, too little time. After three years together I still feel I need more time to know everyone. May be if I had stopped worrying about what people are saying about ME, I would have heard what they are saying, what their thoughts are. If I would have stopped judging them, I would have known what they truly are like. But now it is too late for regrets.
Do I have no regrets? If I say no I will be lying to myself. I know I will do many things differently if I have another chance. I would have not hurt all those I did in process to gain the upper hand. I wish I could have been confident enough to be me. Every one of us has had that moment in the past three years where they could have been themselves but chose to just fit in or slip in to the shadows.
I made some great friends, I could have made more. In the last few months when every one is preparing to say good bye, I am sure each one of them must have come across someone from the class who made them think, “Huh, why haven’t we interacted much before?” I know I have.
I have learnt a lot about relations. I have learnt that a few words spoken by the most unimportant person can hurt you a lot. I have learnt that it takes just one night (maybe coupled with a few drinks) to turn your friend to a stranger. I have learnt that if you think too much about one darn thing you will really miss the other good moments.
Once someone said to me in a very rude manner, Grow Up! I remember me ridiculing his words. I can remember how immature how I was. But today I can say I have grown up because I walk away with cherished memories with each my classmates. Hope when we meet again in future we will be able reconnect or recreate a new bond.
When I talk about my college life it would be incomplete If I forget to mention the one person who may have left us but is still with us in many ways. I thank my stars for giving me a peek into the life of this wonderful guy. We mourned for him not only because he was gone but because we could not share with him the most precious moments we knew he would have wanted to be a part of. Till this day there is no one whose face doesn’t light up in remembrance of him.
Hope we all have the ability to create that much love for ourselves in the hearts of others. He did it in the little time he was with us, we may take a lifetime.
Finally I would like to say wherever life takes us we all will remember the time we have spent in the college we all hate and love- VES.

My Knight in Shining Armour

My Knight in Shining Armour, how easily I called him that, as if I have known him for life or a guiding angel showed me the path to him. The more I meet this fellow the more I feel like kicking him. I mean we hardly agree on anything. If we agree on something that is that we disagree on everything. He is a peace lover and I am not. Now that is not true, but I can’t be a saint when someone is kicking me on my buttocks repeatedly. I agree Gandhiji the great said that you should show the second cheek to anyone who slaps you. But nah I am not that kind though he just may be.
Till now I called him my dream man now it feels like someone pushed me from the 100th storey building making me fall right into reality. The man hates my guts and I hate his kindness. Even I am good. I have been called mother Theresa by many because of the never ending kindness that I have exhibited. But him, he can be given the future Gandhi award. Now is he not brave, cant he box the lights out of someone? NO, that is not true. If he were to throw a punch, an earthquake can occur. Then you ask why do I grumble? because next to him I seem brutal.
Now I am very glad to sacrifice him. I am fed up of his continuous lectures about how I should keep my rage from overflowing. And the problem is that he won’t leave my side. Even if I keep yelling at him, he will keep coming back for more. Does that mean he is deeply in love with me? Not at all! We are friends. Thank you very much. It’s just that he is just that good. He has sworn to remain my close friend. And unlike before the J factor doesn’t arise if he talks about other femmes.
That is where I come back to the very beginning. How easily I called him, My Knight in Shining Armour? I know there is one in my future, or at least I hope there is cause at the end of the day I am a simple gal who needs a simple guy. But after a great blow it has struck me that he is not, definitely not the one.
Someone somewhere said that when you make decisions of love there isn’t any logic. You just have to follow that small voice within you heart.

Sharing the same air with Abu Salem....

If you don’t know who he is google him. Wikipedia says that Abu Salem (born 1968) is an underworld don originally from Azamgarh district in Uttar Pradesh, India. He is convicted for the 1993 Bombay serial blasts case and killing of India's music baron Gulshan Kumar (1997).
Well, it occurred quiet coincidentally. We were travelling in the 2926 Paschim Express from Chandigarh on our way back home. When a little rumour told us that Salem was in the next coach. We sang halleluiah and got off at the next stop to get a good glimpse of him. We behaved like star struck hooligans whose long unheard prayer had come true. My two near and dear friends even clicked a photo with him. All this for Abu Salem. The joy and happiness that he gained from this at of ours was evident in the huge smile of his.
But did we forget the blood he has on his hand. He is the cause for several deaths. We made him a celebrity as if what he did was something totally forgivable or that the killings of the commoners do not matter. But before I berate us I ask myself, did we do it consciously? No, came the answer from deep down. Are we not smart or intelligent enough to understand the stupidity of the affair? No, we have the brains to draw the right conclusions. Then what is it that made us behave in that way? The enthusiasm! I think. I mean what else could drive a set of to-be graduates to behave in such star struck manner.
As I write this even I am confused. The two of my friends who clicked the photo are simpletons. They got carried off a little.. or a lot. But I admit that I am not that a simpleton.
Leave it!! I am happy that we could get a glimpse of this culprit and I am happy that my two blond friends have something to show off.

May be in future when I decide to write about this topic again I will have my thoughts in an organised manner so as to I can blurt out the exactly right thing.

Unwilling to give away!

It is funny how you think you have control of something in life and then suddenly realize you just made a mess of things. Something as such has happened to me. I thought my feelings about a particular someone is in control. We came to a practical conclusion of just remaining friends and I thought I was happy with the idea only soon to find myself dwelling in piles of regret. In order to show how ‘cool’ I was with the idea of just being friends for life, I even introduced this person to someone new. Well I thought genuinely at first that things will work out great but then to this extent and so soon, I hardly expected and now I am not happy.
To see my Knight in shining Armour slip away from my fingers that to because he is falling for someone I would think of is beneath me is totally depressing. (I know I sound egoistical but then what can I do?) Suddenly I want to be like the witch of the west and bewitch him to fall head over heels for me laughing wickedly as the other girl cries. Then I wake up and realize I can’t be like that neither can I hurt my friend. Was I to do anything stupid not only will I loose his friendship but I will lose one of my six pillars.
But why does it have to be me? Why should I be that good friend who waits in the corner playing the role of a well wisher? Why can’t it be my turn to blush hundred times when my cell screen blinks my guy’s name while my friends tease me? Why can’t I be that one whom a guy wants to call in the night or be possessive about me?
I could have handled it but then when they keep sharing their feelings about each other with me and tell me what fun things they were doing, I just want to crawl to a comfy spot with a bowl of ice cream and cry my eyes out. To even say that after reading this he will come to me is a hyperbole because he does not read let alone read blogs. And luckily or unluckily she is too dumb to understand that this implies her.
Thus I have no option but to play the well wisher sitting in the corner. Hopefully it isn’t at their wedding cause then I will definitely go bonkers.

Just the right words!

You don't own me, I'm not just one of your many toys
You don't own me, don't say I can't go with other boys

And don't tell me what to do
And don't tell me what to say
And please, when I go out with you
Don't put me on display, 'cause

You don't own me, don't try to change me in any way
You don't own me, don't tie me down 'cause I'd never stay

Oh, I don't tell you what to say
I don't tell you what to do
So just let me be myself
That's all I ask of you

I'm young and I love to be young
I'm free and I love to be free
To live my life the way I want
To say and do whatever I please

A-a-a-nd don't tell me what to do
Oh-h-h-h don't tell me what to say
And please, when I go out with you
Don't put me on display

I don't tell you what to say
Oh-h-h-h don't tell you what to do
So just let me be myself
That's all I ask of you

I'm young and I love to be young
I'm free and I love to be free
To live my life the way I want

By Lesley Gore-

The last words

IF

If you can keep your head

when all about you are losing theirs

And blaming it on you.

If you can trust yourself

when all men doubt you

But make allowance for their doubting too.

If you can dream and not make dreams your master.

If you can think and not make thoughts your aim.

If you can meet with triumph and disaster.

And treat those two impostors just the same.

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken

And stoop and build'em up with worn out tools.

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch and toss

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss.

If you can force your heart, and nerve, and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone

And so "hold on" when there is nothing on you

except the will which says to them "hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue

Or walk with kings, nor lose the common touch.

If neither foe nor loving friend can hurt you.

If all men count with you ... but none too much.

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

with sixty seconds worth of distant run.

Yours is the earth, and everything that's in it.

And which is more ... You'll be a Man, my son.

--Rudyard Kippling

few lines

without a father
she became the mother
of her own mom at a tender age
without a guiding hand
she walked through thick n thin
all smiles hidden tears
heart filled with fears
she waded through deep waters
and entered unknown territories
as a human she made mistakes
and she learned from them
never repeated them
but one mistake she will always not forget
it changed her mind
it changed her heart
turned her life upside down
brought in new waves
and some lost life
she found her soul
it pulled her out of the puddle
of sympathy and drama
but she has to move on
she has to finally give in
and take a new path
and make more mistakes...

-----sm

bridges Torn Apart

Funny things happen that one simply cannot digest like hating a person you long considered your friend. Then when your bubble shatters you come to realize there were times you can clearly point out to and say, 'hmm so she really didn’t like me that much.' Let me explain why I say the above.

Everyone has their own worse times. At some point or the other everyone and I mean everyone has gone berserk; has had a moment of insanity. In my case it’s a bit different; I have had many of those moments. But such moments are like exams for our friends. It is now that they decide whether they accept you and stick with you or mentally make a note to maintain distance. You will never know who decided what until they have disappeared from your life. Something as such happened to me.

One of my close friends decided she could no longer continue to stay friends with a live atom bomb that can go off at any moment. I just took long to know about it. Well frankly peaking you do at times know what is happening but just ignore it till it is too hot to handle. Then you just have to accept it.

Saying good bye isn’t that easy. In my earlier blog I mentioned those friends who disappear without a bye. They are the easy ones. The ones whom you are still desperately trying to reconnect even after you have mentally said a good bye to are the difficult ones to let go of.

In my short span of life there have been three great gals who walked into to my life at three different times. All of them, I lost on account of my foolishness. They have been my pillars of strength, my fairy godmothers, my life support and my witty guru. I could not at one point think of life without them. They were always present in my future dreams either holding the bouquet in my wedding, or running around in my reception or just standing by me posing for a photo on my 50^th birthday. To imagine life without them is still painful.

But I believe that we have burnt all the bridges in between us. Even though I have informed them to read this entry in my blog, I am sure they have hardly made the effort to.

Of course I may be mistaken. Maybe someday I will meet them down the lane and reconnect the lost ties. Maybe someday, that single piece of the bridge which is still dangling will form a new path.

I believe myself to be a very practical person. Looking back at them I know they won’t give me another chance. Looking ahead I know that many more names will be added to the list. But then I look at the present and I know that there are already those who will forever remain with me in my long journey.

I have often heard of relations going sour but isn’t it said that Sour grapes makes for great wine. If any of the three are reading I hope they get what I mean. Because this is the only way I can say ‘Hey give me break you knew what I was, you know what I am and you know what I will be. But I still miss you and will always be there for you and it doesn't matter if you aren't, I won't make you choose.’

The Ugly truth for me

You would think you know someone but one day they will do something so different so beyond them that all you can say to them is, ‘Huh you had it in you the whole time.’ Sometimes your friends may have said the same thing to you.

As I write this today I have not one theme to follow, not just one thought to share but I have many. My thoughts are like the roots of an ancient tree, except for the tree no one can ever know which root goes where or where does it begin from. Hence I wish to remain invisible. This blog is hardly known to all and I would like to keep it that way. As I know my complexities will not be understood by all, because on this blank page when I let my thoughts flow I also let my fears and inhibitions be revealed.

At times when you accept that one thing that is eating you away you will feel liberated. I have been through that process many times whether it is accepting that you can never be the best or whether it is the knowledge that your realities are in actuality just a dream.

See I have been an average person all my life. Not everyone would say that about me. Only those who have known from the beginning of me can state the amount of change I have been through and all that I have let go of in order to be me. I love the fact that I can destroy many in a debate be it a man or a woman. I pride myself in the intelligent babble that I have with my professors and those equivalent or higher than me. My spectacles on my nose are something I feel I can’t do away with because without them I seem to be lost. The fact that I can not only read, but also can digest a Shakespeare and a P.G Wodehouse (a well known author of the Jeeves series) inflates my ego.

So when I hear that to attract the opposite sex I have to throw away all the above (basically what makes me) and that on a date I can not even pass on constructive criticism or strongly voice my opinion about a particular serious issue, I find something in me going red with rage. I have given it a try but then I find myself dying away. Not only do I have to package myself but also do I have to lock my brains in a box at home. I have to accept that I just can’t do that.

Then do I settle for anyone who accepts me and not that soul mate I have dreamed of? (By now you would have recognised my gender if you already had not an inkling.) HELL NO!!!! I’d rather stay all alone for the rest of my life finding my happiness in the smaller things of life.

Well I know many who would immediately go ‘that is not possible’ and they know I am referring to them. I may have to tie the knot at some point but that will be on my conditions.

Because as someone somewhere said if I can’t find love let me at least do my best in spreading some.

Funny dimensions

They are funny these relations. Does anyone remember exactly what it is that has made that one specific person or more your best friend. It is highly impossible for me to say that these are the ingredients required to create my best friend. Many have come and gone. And in the short span I have lived, I have seen my so called best friends go by without a goodbye. But that doesn’t leave me alone. I have many more to chose from and so do you. Isn’t it so? Bored on the way back home with no entertainment call up your friend and talk leisurely. Harrowed with a love problem or find yourself falling for your colleague then bug your friend endlessly about it. What else are they there for? They don’t have an existence of their own. But if they do then you will have to make time for their issues too.

It is lately that I have realized we don’t have one so called ‘bestest buddy’. There is no hardcore rule; no one is going to imprison you if you have more than one. At times best friend no. 1 may not understand your plight, so best friend two is just appropriate for it. I am lucky to have an endless list of great friends who I can awake in the middle of the night shamelessly to talk about the new message I received from my crush.

When a relation breaks, I wonder how it could be possible that just a moment ago I was dying to share every secret of my life to her/him and the other moment I hardly wish her/him a Hi. How it could be that my judgement about my selfless friend turned out to be wrong. But then it is just that like your clothes will fit you till only a point, your friends will stay with for that limited time. It is you who has to move on and make room for more people who may just be eligible for that position.
For me my friends are like my saviours, my second skin, the peace to my soul because they are there when even family refuses to help. I know I can face the storms bravely because the umbrella that I have created for myself or that God has created for me will always be present over my head sheltering me from all harm.

L'Aide

As my friend sleeping in the Vishnu Pose questions me 'are we going to get any rest today?' I wonder how much can we do selflessly for our friends. Everyone has a handicapped friend (I don’t mean physically) who is forever leaning on us for help. We always decide to put our interests before theirs but eventually sacrifice our precious seconds for their fruitless efforts. But then I step back and I think about the countless times I have blamed these handicapped friends of mine for my own faults, easily washing away my guilt got get that good night sleep. When in need I myself have called my army of advisors and then I see myself virtually transform into a handicapped.

This has happened to the greatest egotist too. He has had no option but to beg at someone’s door step at one point or the other. It is called ‘Karm’ or simply said ‘As you sow, so shall you reap.’ It has happened to me too. And at times I have had to knock the doors of those who I would have liked to knock out. Such situations would arise again but then I pray to lord that when my turn to beg comes again, I want my army of advisors, criticisers, well wishers, and destroyers next to me.

Only scribbles

The thoughts in my mind are quite well framed. I find myself fantasizing to be an author.

Who would be interested in an unknown gal’s inner most emotions, I question myself. Then the reply comes maybe no one maybe someone or maybe everyone and I begin the journey.

As I pour out my ideas my experiences my feelings on to the blank page all I can think of is whether I make any sense. Then the answer comes, to me I do .

Were I to write I become a writer but then again I aint a story teller. I can rhyme but then again I aint a poet. I can talk about life but then I aint a guru or the ancient one.

But then I write coz that is all what I know to do.

Sometimes I want to believe, I dream that the world will read my book, gift my book to their loved ones then I hear a laugh and I wake to my inner fears ridiculing me.

I don’t need to be held as an equal to a Sidney Sheldon, an Emily Bronte.

I know I can only read a Shakespeare let alone be compared to his brilliance.

I stay grounded but then once just once I would like to spread my wings and fly high beyond the sky