All I need is a hug.
A big, warm, long, bear hug.
One that says, don't worry: all is well.
One that gives me a sense of security in this uncertain world.
One, that makes me feel. If only for those 2 minutes, that there is no problem that can't be solved.
Give me some sunshine…
Give me some rain…
Give me another chance,
I want to grow up once again…
That apart, 3 Idiots: a must watch.
Not only for all engineering students, but for all human beings.
Until next time…
So much to say, but the words don't flow;
A whole journey to complete, but nowhere to go;
Look at this irony called life, Little joys in exchange for so much strife;
Shattered dreams like broken glass, no flowers; just an empty vase;
When will the clouds part, when will the sun shine;
When will that elusive happiness be mine.
Happy Birthday to me.
Until next time…
My birthday is coming up, yes, again, and for all those who want to give me something, for once I'll make your life simple. You need not rack your brains like every other year to think of what to give me.
Here's my wish list.
Well, doesn't that make life simple for you? Just take your pick and make me happy!
Until next time…
Damn.
I can't write on demand.
Been wanting to write since when, but nothing happens inside of me that I can translate into words.
I hate this dependence.
How the hell will I ever write a complete book!
Until next time…
So I'm having a really bad day. I'm all tired and exhausted after work, and am ready to collapse after I trudge along for 25 minutes to the station with two, mind you – two, very heavy bags. I reach platform 5 for my regular 7.04 Churchgate Fast. I wait for about 2 minutes and when it's 7.03 and the lady sitting on the roof decides that now is a good time to announce that "platform krmank paanch pe aani waali local churchgate ke liye tej local hai. Ye local aaj platform paanch ke badle platform teen pe ayegi. Yatriyon ko hone wali asuvidha ke liye khed hai."
Right.
So I start running again, with two, mind you- two, very heavy bags to get to platform three, along with half of the city's population jostling to get there before me. A sidestep here – if you've ever travelled by the local trains of Bombay you would have noticed that the regular travelers stand at pre-decided places, everyday, and jump onto the train as it pulls in and before it completely halts. That's the reason they were jostling to get there as the train in question was already pulling into the platform. Anyways. Back to my story. I didn't bother jostling. Well, I couldn't. I just ran as if my backside was on fire and got to the platform just as the train halted.
One tiny detail that the lady sitting on the roof forgot to mention was that the Ladies First Class does not come at the same place on Platform Three as it does on Platform Five. I realized this belatedly as the train halted. I had two options: I could either get into the Non-Ladies First Class (I don't know what else to call it – General First Class? Gent's Firs Class? Whatever) or I could trudge back to Platform Five and wait 10 minutes for another train and get into the Ladies First Class.
No points for guessing what I did – any pea-brain could make that decision.
So I got into the General/Non-Ladies/Gent's/Whatever First Class and was lucky enough to get a seat (non-window, which I would have got for sure in the Ladies First Class and which was the main reason I wanted to travel in that compartment. I mean it's not as if men bite or something – Well, not all). Exhausted I wished that the fast train which thought it was a slow train but was actually moving at the speed of a bullock-cart would soon get the epiphany that it was actually a fast train and move at speeds suitable to that of a fast train. Somehow the train's wavelength and my wavelength didn't really match, and it crawled across Bombay.
And then I saw a friend.
An old, very good, long lost, I'm too busy with my work to meet you friend.
Catching up with friends is always refreshing, and what made it even more refreshing for me was that one, I wanted to catch up with this particular person since a very long time, and two, the updates that he gave me about his life.
He made me forget my horrible day, made me smile for a long time after we parted, and even carried one of my heavy bags! (Like a true friend, I must say)
Shit happens. And sometimes good shit happens. And well, as rightly said, it ought to be good if it's after 25 years of constipation!
So touch wood. And may the shit keep happening. : )
Until next time…
There is no will.
To do anything.
No will to talk.
No will to smile.
No will to blink.
No will to even to get up and eat something.
I blink and breathe because it's an automated process, I have to do nothing, it happens on its own.
I just sit and stare in space.
Blink.
Breathe.
And wonder.
What the hell am I doing in office on a Saturday!
Until next time…
The wings have been clipped, the freedom has been curbed.
The bird has been caged, not a sound anyone heard.
All that remains as evidence of something that-once-was,
Is a free-falling feather, slowly flittering across.
It falls on the ground, gets soaked in the wet mud.
The epitome of the biggest breakage, and not even a thud.
A freedom lost, a spirit broken, a heart that's down in despair.
The world goes on, and so does life, for no one seems to care.
Until next time…
So I finally saw it.
I remember seeing the book at a bookstore years ago.
I remember wanting to read it, but never picking it up ever and actually reading it.
I remember seeing the promos of the movie when it released a few years later.
I remember wanting to watch it, but never buying tickets and actually watching it.
Because I have a death-phobia thingi.
What happens when someone dies? When that someone was your entire life. How do you move on? As Holly said, how do you breathe?
What do you when u lose the only thing that mattered in your life? The one that changed life as you knew it. The one who was irreplaceable.
The entire idea of someone dying on me freaks me out.
How, I mean how can life just go on?
News flash: it does.
Whether you like it or not, whether you want it to or not.
Someone told me that death is actually the destination that we're to get to after the journey called life. It is not the end, it is a beginning. Of another journey.
That's all fine when you're the person who died. But what if you're the one who's someone died. The one who got left behind? The one who still looks out for someone when she smells a certain food? The one those whose eyes moisten when she hears a certain song? The one who just can't breathe without a certain someone? The one who is left behind.
Alone.
There are a lot of people who lose someone in the blink of an eye. There are a lot of people who lost someone while you were reading this. Someone somewhere loses someone every second. There are a lot of people who are alone.
This is for all of them.
"The thing to remember is: If we're all alone, then we're together in that too." - Patricia in P.S. I Love You.
Until next time…
Just wanted to stamp today's peculiar-never-to-be-repeated-in-a-century date somewhere.
Thought of waiting till 09.09.09 P.M. but it just wasn't worth the wait.
Anyways September is here.
Black Month.
Lets see what it brings this year.
Until next time…
You walk along the path of life and it feels like it's an abyss.
Deep.
Dark.
Unending.
And you never know what will come up next, what will happen next or what the outcome will be.
You just walk along, trot along or run along depending on how much you can manage. All you have to guide you in this abyss is your faith. Not because faith makes you strong and all that. But because it's all you've got: you have no other option.
It's like holding a rope - one you can't see, but feel - and walking in a dark, deep, unending cave. You walk / trot/ run with its help. There comes a rock, suddenly, and you slip. You arms flail, trying to use the rope to help you maintain your balance, help you to not fall. But you fall anyways, and end up letting go of the rope. You get up, dust your clothes and curse the rope: what frigging good was it anyways. You walk on for some time without the rope disgruntled with the entire idea of its being, but sooner or later, sometime eventually you flap your arms about in the dark to look for it. You search frantically till you can finally feel it again and then you resume your walk, holding onto it tightly.
For something is better than nothing, right?
Until next time…
They say you should let life take its course, not worry too much, and relax for what has to happen will happen. And everything happens for the good.
They have had a very easy life, I'd say.
How can you just let it be? There are certain issues that nag you all the time: why did this happen? Or what will happen now? Etc and these issues consume your mind your energy your existence with a fervor so great you are pretty much incapable of doing or even thinking something else. How, then, are you supposed to just lay back and let whatever is happening, happen. How, then, can u just leave it up to God & Destiny & Fate?
Do They also not say that God helps those who help themselves?
Should we not then do something, anything that we can do to make sure that events turn out in our favor? Should we not then revisit events that happened, wonder why certain things happened and be better prepared for a next time if such a situation were to arise? Should we not learn from our mistakes? Should we not make sure that we try our best not to commit mistakes? There is a God, there is Fate and there is Destiny. But is that all that is there? Do we have no power over the outcome of our life? Is everything to the tiniest detail planned and plotted by God, Fate & Destiny?
They are conspicuously quiet now.
Until next time…
There is this guy that some of us have abhorrently named "TableTop"
It's best his actual identity and the reason for the name remain, well, hidden from public domain.
But the reason we gave him that name abhorrently, is because we ALL abhor him.
He's like this irritating buzzing noise that you can hear if you have a really bad TV set – one that try as hard as you may to ignore, it is so persistent that you just can't.
So he was there somewhere in the background and I wanted to drown out his abhorring voice so I put on the music and listen to the soundtrack of Kaminey (which BTW is another nice way of describing him – Kamina) and was listening to this nice number called fatak and there was that para which was so apt for TableTop!
A little backgrounder before the aforementioned para here: he has absolutely no work in life, he will never do his own work, he is always finding people to pakao & offload his work to etc, he walks around talking on his handsfree set (meant for cars???) smack in the middle of office, he talks really loudly, when he talks (to people) people scatter far away from him faster than pollen on a windy day (including the ones he was trying to talk to), since he has no work he always roaming the streets (so to say!) and bugging people who have genuine work in life, he self invites himself when a bunch is heading out for lunch, he doesn't get the hint when he Is purposely left behind!, he self invites himself to official events, his highlight of attending official events is the "imported beer" served there "for free yaar!!!!" , oh and since u must have figured out by now (even though I was trying to be professional and not mention it) that he is from my workplace I might as well mention he belongs to he senior management cadre.
Imagine.
The much amusing para:
"ginti na karna iski yaaron mei…
awara ghoomein galiyaron mein…
ye chipkoo hamesha satayega…
yeh jayega aur fir laut ayega!"
FATAK!!
Until next time…
Yes, I know its clichéd and everybody and their aunt who has watched Love Aaj Kal loves it, including me.
But this post is about them, The Mango People, the aam junta.
Quirky behavior that only an aam aadmii can get away with.
Like wearing masks(or handkerchiefs daaku style, for the lack of masks) to protect themselves from the so called pandemic outbreak of swine flu. And looking paranoid, shit-scared, and funny all at the same time.
Like carrying a bottle of nilgiri oil to office and making the entire office smell like a hill station fresh out of a Yash Chopra (the old original ones, not the the new ones that just carry the YashRaj tag) movies. And tearing the head of the poor person who has a genuine cold (and nothing else) for coming to office and putting everyone else in "danger".
Like tapping the person standing at the door of a local and ask – "are you going to get off at the next station?"
(And why else would I be standing at the door otherwise???)
Like being practical, and then regretting it.
Like just posting crap like this and getting away with it!
Until next time…
So it's been raining. Sporadically. Its sunny one moment, & pouring the next. And this sporadicity (it's not a word, but I made it up coz it perfectly explains the point I'm tryin to make) has been continuous, pun intended. On Sunday I went with kiki for a bike ride, assuming a nice warm sunny morning was perfect for it. And on the way back, got caught in this –did I mention, sporadic- rainfall. More like bucket-fall of water. But whatever. Have been coughing since, shivering a bit at night, and still feeling hot when I wear my windcheater and walk in the rain. (Which by the way is a necessity, as you don't get a rick from andheri station to chakala, and I do have to get to work right?)
The cough has intensified into a relapse of the stomach infection I had last week (if ur thinking how, join the club) and I now currently am battling 2 infections with one very weak immunity system. Not to forget that my sinus usually acts up in the rain and is waiting for like the one more time that I get drenched (which is inevitable, as I have to not only walk to office from the station but also walk back from the office to the station in the evenings, each trip taking 25 minutes on an average; and I can't possibly be that optimistic to think that it will never rain at any of these 2 times on all the days left of the monsoon season) post which it too will unveil its ugly face.
It's good in a way. All the coughing has hurt my vocal cords and I now sound like a frog. Gives them poor lonely souls on the road some company.
Croak Croak
Until next time…
Manga jo mera hai,
Jaataa kya tera hai,
Maine kaunsi tujhse jannat mang li.
Kaisa khuda hai tu,
Bas naam ka hai tu,
Rabba jo teri itni si bhi na chali.
Chahiye jo mujhe karde tu mujko adaa.
Jeeti rahe sultanat teri,
Jeeti rahe aashiqui meri,
Dede mujhe zindagi meri, tenu dil da vaasta…
Until next time…
Baksha gunahon ko,
Sunke duaon ko,
Rabba pyaar hai tune sabko hi de diya.
Meri bhi aahon ko,
Sun le duaon ko,
Mujhko woh dila maine jisko hai dil diya.
Aas woh,
Pyas woh,
Usko de itna bata.
Who jo mujhe dekhke hase,
Panaa chahoon raat din jise,
Rabba mere naam kar use, tenu dil da vaastaa…
Until next time…
An incident occurs in your life, and you get affected. You face it, what other choice do you have. So you face it, live with it, deal with it, accept it. You live through it, bear the brunt, face the side effects, and let it affect you. And then you think it over. You feel a joy at having survived it. You feel strong.
But it's a false alarm. That one incident can and will affect you for the rest of your life. It will come back to haunt you again and again, making you weaker at every instance, till it eventually breaks you down. It will make it a point to affect all the important issues/people in your life, obviously in a negative manner, and be at it regularly till you don't give up and bow down.
Till you don't break. Till you don't shatter.
Is this even legal? How many times is one incident allowed to affect your life? Is there no law protecting us against the atrocities of such incidents? Are people not allowed second chances anymore? How much does one thing you did in the past matter so much in your future? Isn't the past supposed to belong in the past, and the future be a new beginning?
Apparently not.
Until next time…
Parents. The ones who raise us from tiny babies into full grown adults. The ones who feed us when we can't feed ourselves, the ones who fend for us when we are barely able to open our eyes.
Parents.
But then, we grow up. We have a mind of our own, choices of our own, decisions of our own, in short: a life of our own. And they have a plan of their own.
What we should eat, what we shouldn't eat, what we should study, what we shouldn't study, how we should study, how we shouldn't study, who we should be friends with, who we shouldn't associate with, who we should marry and who we shouldn't marry.
No matter, that it is our life that is in discussion here. What matters is their approval. I agree that they have our best interest at heart, but somewhere I feel that it is tainted with a bit of selfishness. "what will people think…" or "how could my child do this?"
How far should a parent control a child's life? Especially after the child has reached a certain age (25 good enough?) and is mature enough to make his/her own decisions. This is a debate that has raged on for ages, and is of more relevance in a country like India, where the culture doesn't permit a child to go too astray from the parent's aspiration. There are advocates on both sides. I'm not saying that a child should rebel all out and do what he pleases. But I'm also saying that some decisions should be left to children, especially after they reach a certain age.
I've been a victim of this parent-pressure many a times. Sometimes it's been my parents sometimes it's been someone else's parents. Either ways, it's my life, my mental peace, my happiness that gets affected in the end. When will they realize that?
Until next time…
Once upon a time
In a land far away
There was a sleepy village
Whose name was Jilmanway
The people of that village
Were always sleepy and droopy
And the children there had no toys to play with
So they played with dogs that had names like floopy
One fine day
When everyone was sleepy and taking a break,
A little boy called Andre
Suddenly became wide awake
The people then got worried
Wakefulness did not make them happy
For when someone awakened
They forgot to be sleepy
So they told little Andre
"Go to sleep, o little one"
For if u r awake in the day
For u night and day will become one!
But little Andre was adamant
He didn't like being sleepy
And so he went to the playground
And played with his cat Freepy
Andre and Freepy
Played the games of fun
And then evening came
And down went the sun
Tired and hungry Andre went home
And threw his dirty clothes in a heap
He then ate his supper: pasta from Rome
And promptly fell asleep.
Then the people of Jilmanway
Learnt an important lesson
That more than sleep, children need to play
And to discuss this, they had a discussion
"If Andre can play and then sleep
Then this the way I'd like to keep"
Said his father, his mother nodded and added too
"And I think this should be followed by you"
So everyone agreed to this one thing
And then every morning bells began to ring
All children went out to play
And the parents worked the entire day
The sleepy town of Jilmanway
Was not so sleepy anymore
The people went to work, the children to play
And so they renamed it as activity-ray.
Until next time…
It was a dry one this year, April fool's day. No pranks, no fun. No mood, no need, no inclination.
But I made up for it.
It so happened that a friend of mine (promised him, wouldn't mention his name!) missed April fools day by one day when he was born. So I called him to wish him a very happy birthday today. And ended up giving myself a belated happy April fool's day instead! He didn't recognize my number (landline) and as the usual habit of making a fool of people who aren't smart enough to recognize my voice, I took his case too. I pretended to be a relationship executive from a well known MNC bank, and after identifying myself (with a pseudo-name, of course!) went on to wishing him a very happy birthday. After that, I informed him that he was chosen to become one of our esteemed HNI clients, and so I wanted to come and meet him today itself personally. I also mentioned that I would bring cake and flowers. This flattered the guy to no end, and he was all shy-blushy-flattered. To his credit I must mention that he said that there was no need for the cake etc, but he would like to know the features of this HNI-Account that I was offering him. I was on the verge of mentioning a free trip to Bangkok (his favorite holiday destination) when I couldn't hold it any longer and burst out laughing!
Needless to say the next 10 minutes were spent in him trying to convince me that he knew this was a prank and that he reacted in such a manner because he did know someone with the same name as the pseudo-name that I chose and that he was an HNI client with his bank already and also pointing out numerous times that he did refuse the cake and flowers; and me not believing one word of what he as saying and laughing non-stop!
After a long time I laughed. So hard, my stomach hurt because of it. And for once, I welcomed the pain in my stomach and the water flowing out of my eyes. I gave him only my best wishes, but in return he gave me a happy day in between these dark, gloomy days. For that I can never thank him enough. May god give him all that his heart desires, even if it is only a preeti (pretty) banker chick that brings him cake and flowers!
Here's wishing him a very happy birthday, and me a belated happy April fool's Day.
God knows, I needed it.
Until next time…
Two years went by, and I didn't hear a damn footstep. Two years ago I came here, hopeful, dreams in my eyes and determination in my soul. Today, two years later I leave with dreams unfulfilled, but head held high, and determination intact.
I always knew this time would end. I also thought that I wouldn't regret its end, wouldn't be sad by it. But I was wrong. I am sad. I feel something but I don't understand why, for this place hasn't really given me much; not even a job which was the primary motive for coming here in the first place. I feel like I am leaving behind a part of me. Is it apprehension about leaving a way of life that has become a routine and going into a world of uncertainty, of no rules? I don't know. I don't think it's only that. I think that somewhere this place stole a small part of me. It stole it and hid it somewhere and even though I search desperately for it, I can't find it.
Looking back I see a presentation, like one of the many I have made here. The only difference is that this one is in my head and the slides consist of memories. Like photographs taken, freezing that moment for eternity. My interview. The first class. The first friend (pink!). The first fight. The worst professor. The best professor. Sleeping on the first bench (yes, I did!). The numerous presentations. The horriblest (word coined by me, it's just most horrible in one word) exams. The egos. The misunderstandings. The friends (yes, I did make them. Even after believing that after a certain age you can't make friends, I made friends here. Friends I will cherish, and miss. Friends I never thought I would make). The travelling. The bitching! The giggling. The timepass. The competition. The fighting. The bamboo trees behind Nescafe. The thawing in the sun. The freezing in class. The canteen tea. The station road paani poorie. The rides in the car till dadar station. The coming to college in a car on Sunday mornings. The late night classess. The early morning classess. The diet lunches. The sharing of the salad. The end.
The very expectedly abrupt end.
kahin to dil mein yaadon ki ek suli gad jaati hai,
kahin har ek tasveer bohat hi dhundhali padh jaati hai.
koi nayi duniya ke naye rangon mein khush rehta hai,
koi sab kuch paakar bhi ye mann hi mann kehta hai.
kehne ko saath apne ek duniya chalti hai,
par chup ke is dil mein tanhai pannti hai.
bas ya-aa-aad satth hai, teri ya-aa-aad saath hai.
teri ya-aa-aad saath hai.
main jahan rahoon, main kahin bhi hoon,
teri yaad saath hai.
How many of these people will remember me? How many of these people will I remember? When will we meet again? Will we all meet again, at the same time? Why am I feeling bad? Am I the only one feeling bad?
Whatever happens, I won't forget these two years. If nothing I'll have a lot of memories.
Bitter-sweet memories.
Until next time…
A piece of fiction – an excerpt from the diary of "Mumbai"
I am the city of dreams, the city of hope, the city of glitter, and the city of gutters. I am Bombay, or rather now, Mumbai. There are many that come to me with dreams in their eyes, with hope in their soul and with nothing in their pockets. Some come here and some are born here. I take each and every one of them into my arms, welcomingly and try to accommodate them as much as my over-stretched resources allow me to. I stick with them through thick and through thin. I make each one of them a part of me. Some become successful, some become famous, and some remain like the gutter-creatures that they were born to be.
But all of them hate me.
And I don't understand why.
Is it my fault that all of India finds only me to come to, to fulfill their dreams? Is it my fault that the very people who are in-charge of my welfare mistreat me, abuse me, and think about their publicity and pockets? Is it my fault that I am not built to handle such a large and ever-growing population? Is it my fault that everyone takes everything shamelessly from me, but no one remotely even thinks of returning to me – and that too not for me, for the million others like them who are going to come to me? Is it my fault at all?
I let 18million (and still counting) people walk over me every day. I have let them cut across my body to let them build their so called railways. I feed them. I take care of them.
And what do I get? "Bombay, oh I hate this city!" – echoing everywhere. Be it the film star, or the student, or the slum-dweller or the businessman. They all forget that they are what they are – good or bad - somehow, because of me.
Then why don't they leave me, I wonder. If I am really as bad as they portray me to be, then why do they still tramp over me every day, struggling to fulfill their dreams? Why don't they just pack their bags and take their family someplace else, that they think is better than me?
Maybe because deep down, they know, that there is none other like me.
For all I do for you, all I ask of you is acknowledgement, if not appreciation. At least don't bad-mouth me. I can hear you. All of you. And it hurts every time I hear those words. If you think that wherever it is that you come from is better than me, please feel free to leave. I will miss you, that is for sure for I have made you my own, and it does hurt when a part of me leaves. But if you are really as miserable here as you sound, then it is best that you leave. I can assure you one thing though; you will never forget me. For as I said: there is none other like me.
Until next time…
There is this fundamental question that has raised its head in my life. How much is too much?
How much do you adjust/ compromise/ change yourself for the convenience of others? Any relationship requires compromise, I agree. But I also agree that every person has a right to be themselves too. What I mean is that how far does "I'm like this only, take it or leave it." Go. How far should you let it go? If the other person can have the balls/ guts to say this, why can't you. Well, you can. But I don't. Not that I don't have the balls/courage. But I don't want to. It will cause an unnecessary fight, and the worst thing is that it's not one person. It's a bunch of them. And I really can't afford to fight with a bunch of people in my life. Do they expect all people to accommodate them like that? Or is just me. Why do I let them push me? Why do they not get pushed when I try? Is it worth fighting for? Why can't someone (anyone!) do something simply because I want it? Why is that I always have to deal with their "them-ness" but they can't deal with my "my-ness"?
I'm sorry; did I say one fundamental question?
I know the title has nothing to do with the content; but the content has everything to do with the title.
Until next time…
It doesn't bother me when a considerably new friend stops giving me bhav. But it does bother me when someone I have known for years suddenly realizes that it has been years and hence stops taking me seriously, and not giving me bhav and taking me for granted in general. I don't want to be the centre of the world's attention, but I do want to be someone's centre of attention. But apparently, this concept is too difficult for people to understand.
How much can you change overnight? Enough to shock everyone who knows you into speechlessness? I don't think anyone can change so drastically overnight. It's a gradual process, one that may have been brewing for years but has only just begun burgeoning. Till where it will go, will end on a high or a low, only time will tell.
When someone starts acting differently from what has been their standard behavior, it makes me wonder whether this new them is the real them or the old them was the real them. If the new them is the real them, why did they conceal it or so long (and how!). And if the old them was the real them, then why are they acting so bloody different!
I really don't like change, don't I?
Until next time…
Once in a while,
There comes along,
This thing that you wanted,
For which your heart does long.
You work,
You pray,
You slog you butt off,
And you wait for that day.
And when it comes along,
It brings with it,
The unexpected situation that you never thought of,
And with a shock your confidence takes a hit.
You wonder why,
You wonder how,
No matter how much you wonder,
Nothing's going to change now.
What you need to realize,
Is that what you want is not what you get,
What you get is what you deserve,
Something Better will come along, for it is not over yet.
Until next time…
He's got a paunch, well hidden, but a paunch nevertheless; huge butts, a cute smile and the most mesmerizing blue eyes you have ever seen! From far you can't make out that they are blue, but when you get close enough to notice, you don't just notice, you notice! They are deep, blue and very very pretty. The moment you look at them , they take your breath away. You have to concentrate on breathing, you're that awed.
He's the new blue eyed boy, man rather, in my life and after so many years I have a full blown crush - on him!
Sigh …The world seems to be so much more prettier…
Until next time…
Lost: one Diamond earring
Found: my old love for bicycling
It was a lucky earning, and not keeping the loss of monetary value in mind, it represents, at least to me, loss of good luck which I desperately need at the moment. I can't remember the exact moment it fell off my ear and neither the place. My mother discovered at the dining table that I was wearing only 1 earring and even after hours of frenzied searching and turning the house upside down I couldn't find it. I was even game for tracing my steps back till I reached college and wherever else I went, but didn't as my parent saw no point in it. At night I dreamt about it: it was lying just within my reach but I couldn't grasp it or that it kept appearing and disappearing as I went to pick it up. I even thought in my dream that this was all a bad dream and it would be over when I got up as God can't be so mean to me in one day! But sadly, it wasn't so.
So to get me out of my depressed sulking, kiki, my darling sister took my cycling. It was at 7 AM and I still hate her for that, but other than that it was good fun! We rented a couple of bicycles and raced around on the Malabar Hill Slopes. The weakling that she is, she lost and was usually far behind me, panting, and trying to catch up. My shouting out: "kick kiki, come on!" had little effect on her speed and more on her disposition towards me! Today morning I remembered what it used to feel like, all those years ago, when as kids we used to cycle for hours and hours. It used to feel like I was flying, the wind in my hair racing along to wherever I want to go. That love for cycling gradually led us to getting mopeds, and once we had mopeds, our cycles rusted away unnoticed for over 12 odd years. In fact I wasn't even sure I still remembered how to ride a bicycle, but apparently there are some things you don't forget and riding a cycle is one of them. Hopefully, we will go back and cycle regularly (only after kiki can walk straight, she seems to have overdone her capacity!)
Until next time…
Another day, another story.
Of prancing pigeons and lost opportunities.
There are other better things in the world, I'm being told. Repeatedly. So I guess there must be, and I'm going to vie for them. Let the ones gone not matter anymore, as mattering won't change anything really. It is disappointing, and I would be a big liar if I said that it weren't. But hey, disappointment can be channeled into motivation and I'm going to try to do that. Something better does await me, and find it I am going to. And you - yes you - reading this – don't feel bad for me. I will do better than this, I know it and you should too.
Courting pigeons can be a funny sight, and got a laugh out of me even when I was at my lowest. Outside the window of the first floor of the Westside Café at Kala Ghoda there is a parapet, and on it were 2 pigeons. The male was following the female for quite some time irritating her to the core. And when she finally showed interest by fluffing herself up completely he had second thoughts (men, I tell you – all the same in any species!) and started acting pricey. It was a funny sight, watching a fully fluffed up pigeon running after another pigeon that was chasing it just minutes ago!
Until next time…
I like to think that my life is a book, and each year is a chapter in it. At the end of every year, I take stock of what happened and what I learnt from it; and look ahead and prepare for what will come. As my birthday and the end of the year, English-calendar-wise, fall within 15 days of each other, I have usually conducted this take-stock-and-look-ahead exercise at the beginning of the year. This year too, I look back at the year gone, closing one chapter of my life, and start a new, and fresh (BGO*!) one.
The past year was mostly routine; consisting of travelling, college, studies, exams, CGPA's and a bit of fun squeezed in here and there. In the last two or three odd months I realized that in my single-minded dedication to reach a goal set long ago, I had become the very stuffy, almost sadoo to a certain level person that I kept teasing other people to be. I realized that I should have some fun, and really, "take a chill-pill!" (In the very famous words of my Shahrukh…). So I did. For example, I got screwed in an exam, the outcome of which is still unknown, and apart from a bit of bathroom tears I was cool (which is a really big deal for the old hyper-paranoid me! Trust me. The old hyper-paranoid me would have wailed like a banshee and taken the roof over her head, literally, ending up making everyone's life as miserable as she thought her life to be.) This year was also one of lost friendships found again, and final goodbyes to old dead friendships. And of course, how can I forget. It was the year in which I started losing weight! Not much, but definitely a satisfactory and pleasing start. This was also the year of suffering, trauma and pain for every Bombayite. The fright, the terror, the fear lingers in every heart, but we move on. Our spirit is injured this time around, but we are healing. Slowly and steadily, like the Turtle.
Enough about the bygone. Now, about the one ahead.
Even though I don't like to plan life, I do like to look at the broad expected aspects. The problem with planning life, I think, is that it seldom goes the way you planned it, and that can be a bit of a rude shock, as I've already discovered. But nevertheless, some things you don't plan for, you know they will happen. Like a job. The coming year will be the start of my so called career. Apprehension clouds this matter obviously, as there is no job in sight; forget about it being the right one. But I have kind of settled with God and Destiny on this one. They have got me this far, and they will get me ahead. The apprehension's still there, though. It is also the year in which I plan (oops?) to make some headway on the "I'm-single" part. Marriage? Engagement? Haven't planned that much in detail. But I'd like for something to happen. More weight loss, definitely needs to happen, and I hope that this coming year will be the one in which I finally can reach my target weight and stop losing weight and start maintaining it. (As you can see, all my talk about not planning life etc was bullshit.)
All said and done, it's a new day, of the new year. One year gone by, and another one knocking at the door. So let's say bye and hi in the same breath, and let's keep the peace and hope alive.
Happy New Year.
Until next time…
*BGO = Blinding Glimpse of the Obvious.
