tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-261047942024-02-29T00:48:38.615+05:30Expressions...Shades and Shadows... Splashes of Colour... The play of Light... Ups and Downs... Highs and Lows...
Just the way I see itUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger82125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-57033851661144092462015-02-12T20:02:00.001+05:302015-02-12T21:24:52.596+05:30Step back a bit, perhaps?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I never intended to write a post on anything even remotely connected to politics because I have never been able to become an all out follower or a hater. Can a rational person (and I like to think I am rational, more often than not) possibly be a blind believer, this way or that? It seems childish to see things as plain black or white when the muddy greys are all over the place. I must agree though that I have been amused (or is it just embarrassed?) by some of the statements attributed to a certain scion of a political party in my country. It reiterates for me that politics in today's world needs brains. Power or connections alone shall not suffice unless supported by intelligence, charisma and at least the semblance of a vision. Monetary backing is a given in these circumstances. If one dreams of being able to govern well, then unfortunately, politics is the way to get there. Accept the fact that a prerequisite to offering good governance is that one needs to get elected. And more often than not, in order to get elected, one needs to play dirty. Anybody who claims they have a clean record are just plain deceiving themselves. Everybody who wades into the political minefield needs to accept that they shall have to make their own sweet deal with their conscience and/or their own gods/demons. So, let's step off the idealistic high horse and get real. <br />
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I am proud that ours is a democratic country. Democracy, especially when it comes to billions, has its pitfalls, but these are by far outweighed by the advantages. It is true that a lot more work needs to be put in to make the democratic process cleaner and more fair. However, once someone has been elected via a fairly democratic process, shouldn't they be given a chance to perform? For the last many months, I have been aghast by the irrationally strong responses put forth by individuals who I would have normally expected to stop and think first. Just as sheer blind faith is to be frowned upon, blind hatred and prejudice is also to be guarded against. <br />
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Sometimes I wonder whether all those who spout self-righteous judgement really have the right to sit in said judgement when they are unable to give their elected representative even a chance. See, even if we personally didn't vote for the person who has been elected, the fact that we are part of a democracy means that they are our representative. We don't have to stand aside if atrocities are committed or stay silent when we encounter injustice. We have the right to put forth our concerns but to outright spew propaganda of any sort is not rational behaviour. Do we even realise that by the sheer unwillingness to stop and listen and think for a bit, we are actually invalidating and weakening our own argument? There is much that needs to be done regarding true freedom and justice in our country. There is much that needs to be done for equality and our voice needs to count in this matter. But in order to be heard and be counted, perhaps we need to be able to step back and stop shouting. Anarchy may seem attractive but it shall only lead to more chaos. Perhaps we need to learn to speak up without screaming out allegations. Perhaps we need to grow up a bit. Just step back a bit. Once the crazy noise dies down then the voices of sanity shall hopefully prevail. And amidst the silence voices that speak up quietly may deliver a louder message, one of truth and justice and a free people. I have hope, I think I may even have faith, in the wisdom of a people that have flourished for so long. In the strength of a people that shall learn to not let prejudice cloud their judgement. I have hope for my country, that we shall not forget to be good human beings while we are busy being politically active social activists and/or avid followers. I have faith. Or do I?</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-4798963281628459822014-11-07T19:33:00.000+05:302014-11-08T18:42:42.058+05:30पानझड <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
वाऱ्याचा वेग आज इतका होता की खिडकीसमोरच्या झाडाच्या पानांना जणू मोह आवरेना. त्या उंच भक्कम झाडाशी आपले असणारे सारे संबंध सोडून वाऱ्याबरोबर उडत जाण्याची त्यांची इच्छा फारच तीव्रतेने जाणवत होती. का बरं असं वागावं त्या इवल्याश्या पानांनी? वर्षभर त्या झाडाने त्यांना जोपासलं, प्रेमाने लहानाचं मोठं केलं. आणि एक वाऱ्याची वेडी झुळुक येताच सगळं सोडून निघून जायला तयार झाली ही पानं? वारा काही हलकेच, अलगद नेणार नव्हता त्यांना. तो स्वतःच्या वेगात, तूफानीमधे हरवलेला होता. बेधुंद. बरोबर कुणी येतंय का नाही याची बिलकुल काळजी न बाळगणारा. आणि एकदाचा वाऱ्याचा वेग संपला की ती बिचारी पानं, हिरमुसलेली, वाळलेली, दमलेली, इथे-तिथे बिखुरलेली असणार. त्याच झाडाच्या मुळांशी.<br />
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वाऱ्याबरोबर बेभान उडण्याची मजा काही औरच असावी. क्षणिक इच्छेच्या भरात वाहून जाणं हे काही त्या भरभक्कम झाडाला कळणार नाही. आणि कायमचं वाऱ्याशी झुंज करत ताठ उभं राहणं काही त्या पानांना मानवणार नाही. प्रत्येकाने आपापल्या नशिबात जे लिहिलंय तेच आयुष्य जगायचं हेच सत्य. शेवटी म्हणतात ना, <i>everything tends to chaos. </i>तसंच काहीसं असणार.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-55070850432843211232014-03-13T00:08:00.000+05:302014-03-13T00:11:12.039+05:30Were you always this way?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
You meet a person in a given situation and you see an aspect of them under those peculiar circumstances. It is then so easy to decide that this person is just what they appear to be to you, just exactly that... no more, no less. They may appear kind and loving or calm and balanced or bitterly sarcastic or mind-numbingly boring or brilliant or modest or so on and so forth... ad infinitum. But you choose a set of characteristics and you apply them to said individual and that is it! But you forget, that these same people may be seen differently by others. They may actually be different with others. You may be missing out on the inner turmoil of a silent, apparently calm person. You may be missing out on someone's creativity just because your experience of them has been of the mundane. Or perhaps, you never expected them to be creative. So you never ventured to explore those aspects. You may never touch upon the seething resentment within the soul of a person who appears carefree. Or the deep-rooted romantic within a person who is apparently always strong and unemotional.<br />
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And worst of all, you pass your judgement. And then you rest the case. You don't stop to take a second look, or even a third one. You miss out on so much! Someone you think you know really well may actually appear a stranger to you if you ever saw them through another person's eyes. Or even through your own eyes, but without the curtain of expectations and preconceived notions. Don't you find that, oftentimes, perceptions are coloured by expectations? Do you think that sometimes you tend to judge too quickly? As if it makes life simpler to categorize people into sub-sections in your mind? And then, don't you lose out on the rich diversity that even that one person has to offer you? It is not easy to keep an open mind, to be non-judgemental. It means that you have to let go of your sense of self-importance. You have to step down from the pedestal that you placed yourself on. The one from where you gave yourself the right to pass judgement about others. To say that someone is mean, to say that another is an idiot, or someone else is selfish. Yes, everybody is flawed. And unluckily, perhaps, you have been exposed to all their unique flaws. But surely, each one of us is more than just the sum of our flaws? There is some good in every person. And sometimes, do you stop to think whether you bring out the worst in another person? Perhaps, they think the same about you? Perhaps... perhaps... perhaps.<br />
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If you just take the risk and decide to look at one other person in your life from a different perspective, you may discover a hidden poet or an angst-ridden soul or a hilariously wicked sense of humour that sends you into absolute fits of laughter. It takes a bit of trust. And some self-deprecation. Some letting go and some letting in. But its do-able. And then, even if you have just one friend, that friend may suddenly seem to be a different person. All the comfort of the known but flavoured with the excitement of the new. If only we were so brave...</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-42464553416947354882013-11-17T09:15:00.000+05:302013-11-17T09:15:27.825+05:30विश्वासाचं नातं <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">मी समोरच्यावर पूर्ण विश्वास ठेवायचा असतो कि समोरच्याने आपल्या प्रामाणिक व्यवहाराने, वागणुकीने माझा विश्वास मिळवायचा असतो, जपायचा असतो? कोण ठरवतं हे? </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">सुरुवात कुठून होते? कशी होते? माझा तुमच्यावर विश्वास नसेल तर त्यात चूक कुणाची? माझी? कारण माझी डोळे बंद करून विश्वास ठेवण्याची क्षमता नाही म्हणून. का तुमची? कारण तुम्ही बेधडक विश्वास ठेवता येईल असं नेहमी वागालच याची खात्री नाही. किती खेळ खेळतो न आपण, एक-मेकांच्या मनांशी? मनाला नको ते ओढताण. खरंतर आयुष्य सोप्प, सरळ असावं. जे मनांत असेल त्याप्रमाणे वागावं, त्याप्रमाणे बोलावं, त्याप्रमाणे करावं. नाही? मग यात डावपेच नाहीत आणि कसलंही गणित नाही. जे समोर दिसतंय तेवढंच सत्य! अगदी <i>face value</i>! नकोच तो मनाला त्रास. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">आणि हे सगळं संपतं कुठे? कारण अविश्वासात केवढा धोका आहे! पूर्ण नातीच्या नातीच </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">उध्वस्त करून जाऊ शकतो हा अविश्वास. कधी कधी एखाद्याचं पूर्ण आयुष्य देखील बरबाद होऊ शकतं या सगळ्या खेळांत. किती नाजूक आहे नाही हे विश्वासाचं बंधन? अगदी जीवापाड जपण्यायोगं. पवित्रता आहे यांत दडलेली. तुमच्या देवाशी तुम्ही नातं जपणार नाही इतकं हे माणसांतलं विश्वासाचं नातं जपलं पहिजे. कारण समोरच्या माणसावर, त्याच्या माणुसकीवर माझा विश्वास नसेल तर कुठेतरी माझीच माणुसकी हरवून जाईल, संपून जाईल. हो ना?</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-86606119816195574152013-10-07T02:11:00.001+05:302013-10-07T02:20:40.397+05:30A moment in time, a moment out of time ...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
There is something so liberating about living in a new place, a place where nobody knows you. You can keep all your personal baggage aside and start afresh. And if you are lucky enough to land up in a place where people hardly bother to judge random strangers for being unexpectedly different, then you are in for a good time. You can be as frumpy or as glam or as silly as you please and nobody really cares. You can just be yourself. You can wander all over town, enjoying the solitude amidst the teeming masses. Nobody looks at you pityingly or judges you as being unsociable or unpopular or just plain old sad and lonely if you sit down alone at a roadside table with a book and a steaming cup of hot chocolate.<br />
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Don't get this wrong. Living among people I love and care for is simply brilliant. Nothing can come close to the comfort and warmth of family and friends. But when I am identified as a certain kind of person and am expected to always abide by people's perception of how I should behave and the kind of person I should be, then it becomes very difficult to be anyone else, anyone different. If I were to take the plunge and decide to ditch my career, or take up some crazy hobby or insist on solitude or just decide to change the entire pattern of my life, I may have to live with well meaning friends and family taking me aside and telling me that my life is going off track and that I should buckle up and start behaving like myself. But how can I be myself and not myself all at the same time? Whoever I am, whatever I am at the present moment is all me. It may not be the me that you know, or expect, but it is still me. In any case, I am not normally carefree enough, perhaps not courageous enough, to be that wildly crazy.<br />
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In this land, where few people know me, or know what I am supposed to be like, it is a delight to redefine myself. No, that's not true, I am not redefining myself, more like, rediscovering myself and my capabilities, my likes and dislikes. Discovering all those things I used to love... reading for myself. Reading a multitude of books together, in random order. Not just books for relaxation but books for their sheer pleasure. All at once. As the mood may strike. Wandering aimlessly about town, gazing at ancient buildings and into the endlessly blue windswept sky, imagining patterns in the various cloud forms and the fuzzy white lines of airplane exhaust crisscrossing the blue sky. Browsing through stores, window-shopping, people-watching, losing myself in the melodies of the street-musicians. Deciding that I do indeed love cooking. It relaxes me, rejuvenates me. I know that modern, liberated, independent women are often supposed to look upon cooking as a chore, forced upon them by the chauvinistic elements of society. But I love the planning of a meal, understanding a recipe, shopping for the right ingredients, and putting together a delicious, hot meal. I love the melodious blending together of spices and flavours. I love the smells, of chocolatey-gooey cupcakes and cinnamon-topped apple pies, wafting out of the oven. I love the visual treat of colourful food with different textures, creatively presented. It almost feels like a form of art therapy.<br />
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It is fun to connect with myself, as clichéd as that sounds! I miss my people. I miss the everyday traditions of families. But I am re-learning so much about myself instead. Perhaps, this is a rite of passage. Perhaps, it may not even be a question of a different place. It may just be a matter of time. Like I am on vacation from my own life. Something that everybody should go through. A time to find yourself, to lose yourself, to just be. To find out whether you are a person you can really like. A lot. Without the baggage of expectations. With all the freedom that comes from knowing that you have a loving place to go back to. A time to live for the moment, live in the moment, carefree, mukt :)<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-72303603120893949902013-06-28T02:32:00.000+05:302013-06-28T02:32:05.898+05:30To lie or not to lie, that is the question.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Trust. The loss of trust is often the single most important stumbling block in any relationship. Isn't it important for you to be able to trust the people in your life? This means that you need to have the ability to trust and those you trust should be able to garner it and live up to it. You need to be able to trust your family, your friends, your lover, your partner, your colleagues, in one way or another. You need to be able to believe that they will not betray you or your trust and this has to be a two way street with both parties willingly involved.<br />
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Sometimes, small little lies spring up out of a desire to avoid conflict. We call them white lies and, more often than not, we do so to appease ourselves. If it is really a 'harmless' little white lie, then wouldn't it be better to just air it out in the open rather than keeping it hidden and having to cover up your tracks carefully. No matter what kind of lie, the fact that this lie is out there means that there has been a breach of trust. Plus, telling one lie to one person often means that there exists the danger of another person, who is in on your secret, spilling it out into the open. Again, trust issues. What hurts more than the fact that somebody is hiding something from you is the fact that they felt the need to do so. Loss of faith in another person is a tragic thing indeed! It brings along disillusionment, it raises doubts and strains relationships. Nothing hurts as bad as being lied to. Nothing hurts as bad as being betrayed.<br />
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Commitment to the truth, no matter how painfully difficult, and clarity of communication can often nip most problems and misunderstandings in the bud. However, we are all complex beings. In fact, the ability to lie knowingly and willingly is believed to be a very human trait. Some people are habitual lie-tellers. They tell the most fantastic lies cheerfully, without flinching and without remorse. Then there are others who fidget, sweat, get nervous while concocting even the simplest of lies. Remember Joey who can't lie and his racoon-tales? I understand that life is not really about black and white, there exist myriad shades of grey in between. As has been said, this world is a mirage, "<i>Maya</i>", all a lie within a lie within a lie, <i>ad infinitum</i>, and the purpose of human life is to try and decipher the truth hidden within. How about owning up today to one lie you have told or lived? Try it and you shall love how much lighter and happier you shall feel :)<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-74236821546387014302013-06-23T23:22:00.000+05:302013-06-24T02:08:51.252+05:30A matter of blind faith.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Oh the times when I wish that people would stop and think before they take anything and everything on faith, blind faith! Rational faith of some sort, in something, might perhaps be an anchor for some people. However, each of us is born with a brain capable of rational thought. Yet, many of us choose to spend entire lives following somebody else's thoughts, or as they call them 'teachings'. We are all blessed with dreams, thoughts, logic and an innate sense of that which is right. Add to this the fact that we, as humans, have the benefit of having parental care for a major part of our young lives. So we ought to grow into beings capable of identifying the irrational and the illogical, of discriminating between right and wrong, even when some supposedly great godly person insists on telling you what it is right and which is the only correct path of life. Not that we are perfect. Of course we are flawed. We shout, we scream, we get angry. But then that is perfect too, because it allows us to be human. Because it ensures that we learn to love, and be kind and to listen for ourselves, not as a consequence of another person telling you that this is the way to be!<br />
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Each of us must have distinctly individual paths in life. How can we allow another human being to tell us what is proper for us? Aren't we, or at least the people closest to us (friends and family), best suited to decide such things for ourselves? How can we equate another person's words to gospel, as if he or she is, in fact, god? In fact wouldn't that be blasphemy of sorts? In fact, how can a person who is truly learned and wise ever want to be adulated and revered as god? Only people who perhaps don't understand life, who just want to be lauded as godly or saintly would encourage or allow other fellow human beings to think of them as greater than the common masses.Whether or not you believe in the existence of a god as an all-powerful being is an entirely different issue. There are those that believe that god is perhaps all that is good and beautiful around you. The goodness of people, the beauty and wrath and awe of nature, the intricacy of all the biological processes that keep you alive, the imperfect perfectness of evolution - any or all of these could be that which is named god. A very personal issue. A very delicate issue.<br />
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However, isn't allowing another human being to take the form of this personal, private, delicate matter, completely irrational? Especially when that person has not lived your life, has no real idea of your peculiar personal problems and difficulties. How can we accept that there is a standard one-shoe-fits-all approach to life's problems? There can not be a universal solution to human problems. Simply because we are a bunch of complex, diverse, crazy but unique individuals as a result of the myriad circumstances and situations that we have each inherited or encountered. Of course, we will all need advice. We will make mistakes and will need to be made aware of them. But being reduced to parroting out another's words as the only words of wisdom is an insult to a rational thinking human being. Accept only that which you believe is true, not something that some 'great person' has told you is the way of life. Because at the end of it, that person is going to live and die in his or her own unique way. In a way completely different from the story of your life. So please do stop to think, think deep and hard, before you let another person tell you how to live your life. It is truly the only life you shall have. Wouldn't you have rather lived it your way? At least at the end of it all, you wouldn't blame another for the life you led!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-60143836490193851682013-01-28T01:46:00.002+05:302013-01-28T01:46:20.918+05:30Switch off!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sometimes, you may spend all your time with a person, but you still feel like you have had hardly any companionship. You may have been sitting right next to each other all day. Yet, you have hardly exchanged a few words; forget thoughts or opinions or feelings. Perhaps, it is a reflection of the times. We are all evolving towards being superficially self-sufficient. We have numerous devices that make us feel entertained, stimulated and even apparently connected to the entire world. The fact is we are all increasingly connected to and involved with our devices, leaving us with little concern about the actual human beings around us. Don’t you feel the urge for some real human interaction, for a little conversation, shared laughter, even a wholesome fight?!? With a person who is actually in the same room as you, and not staring at you out of a psychedelic screen? Some days I wish I could just switch off all telephones, mobile devices, laptops, music players and listen to non-electronic sounds. Days go by and I realize I have not even heard birds or the wind in the trees or the sound of rain … in a long, long time! There are days when I want to just talk aloud endlessly and still be heard patiently.</span></div>
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Your fancy smart phone’s networking applications may leave you feeling like you are constantly in touch with so many people, but are you ever really involved with these people? Being involved, in the everyday sense of the word, including the expression of emotions, opinions and urges, is essential for us to stay human, to make sure that we don’t turn into automatons. Don’t you get the feeling that you are turning into a boorish, impolite, intolerant person? As if you are not able to tolerate other people and their foibles? As if you are always right and the rest of the world needs to really buck up? Doesn't this feeling intensify when you have been cooped up with yourself with just your electronic friends for company? Do you find yourself easily irritated, hardly ever satisfied, very rarely happy from deep within? </div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It is not that I want to get rid of all my electronic devices. They appear to make my life easier; sometimes they really do make my life simpler. But they never really care for me, they don't love me or hurt for me or are happy about me. I want to stop and appreciate all the people who do all of those things for me. I want to reclaim my joy of life. I want to be able to like the people around me. I want to learn to see their goodness amidst all their faults and not just expect them to be two-dimensional perfect personas. Perhaps, I ought to go out and make some new friends, or renew old friendships over a cup of coffee, go for a walk together, or even spend some time watching neighbourhood kids laugh and play. I might find myself a lot happier, more relaxed, a lot more human. Perhaps, I ought to slow down, not caring about the crazy demands of a faster and faster world. Just stop and savour the tiny moments, stolen out of my own life. And do so right now. Stop typing away here and go say hi to somebody nearby. Just say hi. To the next person I see :)</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-14787267582784420032012-09-18T00:00:00.000+05:302012-09-23T01:29:38.330+05:30An Ode to the Husband :P<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Husbands are good fun I tell you. Not like I have so much experience, but the one I have is simply fabulous! He presents an awesome win-win situation. I mean, sometimes I am caught wondering, is this guy my husband, is he my friend? You know, all that social and cultural conditioning kicking in, with the husband being the guy that one is supposed to treat with excessive awe and respect, bordering on reverence. A friend, on the other hand, is an absolute equal. But then, that's not fair. With my parents as examples, I always knew friendship was an essential component of the soul-mate concept. How does it matter anyhow? He is the guy with whom I choose to live my entire life and he is also the guy who is, today, my best-est friend.<br />
<br />
I can go days on end without communicating with most of the rest of the world. But he always knows, perhaps unfortunately for him, everything that's happening in my life. Obviously, this means that he gets all the cribbing and the bitching, the oh-so-depressed lows, the bubbling highs, the furiously flaming tirades against all the idiots in my life. He gets all the chatty commentaries and the monologue-like conversations. He also has to deal with my "I am always right, so if you want to be right, you have to agree with me completely" dictatorship mode. He has to carefully make his way through the myriad, disconnected and apparently random topics I choose to discuss (in a monologue-like manner, obviously). He also has to fight to get a word in, because if he does not say anything, of course I am going to assume that he is not paying attention. And that can be rather fatal, albeit temporarily. But he has survived two whole years of all this madness. And has still remained relatively sane.<br />
<br />
The last two years have been crazy fun, brimming with moments that shall be forever etched in my memory. The frantic adventures involving trains, buses and air-crafts that often threatened to leave without us, the leisurely journeys to snow-clad mountains with their quaint hill-towns and to the sea and the family, the stolen moments and the audacious plans. All of this crammed into a few days, snatched out of these two long years. The years were long, because they were spent mostly apart. And yet, it is in the course of these two years that I discovered my husband. To borrow from a cliche, my "Friend, Philosopher, Guide."<br />
<br />
This is a toast to all those happy coincidences and the many twists and turns that have brought us to this moment. And a toast to all those moments to come, that shall be always drenched in laughter and happiness and togetherness. Lots of Love!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-31684786589248579872012-08-05T13:34:00.004+05:302012-08-05T13:34:38.446+05:30Not all those who hear can listen.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
You know, there are so many people in the world who are
always happy to share your happy moments with you. You can tell them the good
news and can be assured of a smile in return, a pat on the back, even shared
laughter. In fact, it is heartening to know how many people feel good for you,
care for your joy and are ready to become a part of it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I realized that there are not really that many people in
the world that you can have a major melt-down with. Those days when you want to
rant at the world, bawl your heart out or just crib endlessly, till even you
are irritated with yourself. Those days when you are feeling incredibly
vulnerable, when even a glance could hurt you really bad. When you feel like
you shall never succeed at anything or that you have hit the absolute pits. How
many people in the world do you know that you can be your worst self with?
People you can share your worst fears with? Most importantly, how many people
who will listen, and listen well, and then love you just as much the next morning
because, one awful day does not make you an awful person? And then I realized
that these people must be simply awesome individuals. I mean, it must take
someone special and strong indeed to listen to and see another person at his or
her worst, lowest, crabbiest phase and then not judge them for having been that
weak. I am lucky enough to have always had such wonderful people in my life.
People who listened, because, more often than not, that’s all you need. You
don’t need answers or advice or solutions. You can eventually fix your own
problems, but it is the venting for which you need an audience. A silent
audience, a receptive audience. A sympathetic, non-critical audience. Having
put up my share of the dramatic my-life-is-a-tragedy performances, I hope to
learn to be that kind of audience, some day. It shall be good to sit back and
learn to listen kindly. It shall be good to learn to be silent and wise. Some
day. Some lifetime. </div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-13821077444777526532012-07-02T23:28:00.000+05:302012-07-02T23:29:03.383+05:30Are these really my thoughts?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Have you ever stopped to think, how many of your thoughts are really your own? Okay, let's modify that question, make it a little simpler. How many of your opinions are really your own? And I mean all kinds of opinions. About stuff that seems inconsequential, everyday, mundane. About all the profound stuff that you discuss as a passionate, to-be-revolutionary youngster. All those philosophical discussions and movie/music/random gossip. Just about any and every thing.<br />
<br />
I lived my life believing in my individuality. Doesn't every one of us believe at some point or other in our uniqueness? Have you not had that moment when you thought you were special? That you had thought of something, the germ of an idea, that was especially yours? Those times of divine unawareness about one's place in the scheme of things. Or rather a skewed image of one's exalted status. Delusional, yes. But definitely confidence-inspiring. Those were times when I could have had (and often did have) an opinion on any and every single thing. And off course, it was a well-informed, well-read, rational person's unbiased opinion. Did I mention delusional?<br />
<br />
And then the day dawned when I realized that so many of the things I heard myself say were things that my parents had said, or my teachers had said, or my friends had said or... I would have said that it was an earthshaking moment. But that would be putting it mildly. It is awful to find that your very definition of yourself (and yes, your thoughts do define you) is shaky, murky, lost in the voices and opinions of others. It is shocking, that realization. But essential too. Especially if you mean to grow up some day. And well, not a lot of us have a choice about the growing up. Life tends to make you do so anyway.<br />
<br />
Anyway, since that day on, I have learnt to question. It makes me a non-believer, until I have believable proof. It makes me long to have faith, yes, blind faith. But it also leaves me knowing that most of my thoughts are really my own. Sometimes, another's opinions slips through. But then, it is all about living and learning. <span style="background-color: white;">You see, so much of our childhood passes in trying to be like someone else that many of us never learn to be ourselves. I have decided to learn to be myself. The best myself I can be :)</span><br />
<br />
<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-49616706395548847082012-05-24T17:31:00.001+05:302012-06-10T13:34:13.477+05:30The girl who reads :)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i><b>My sister, Rhuta, writes, and writes beautifully, at that. So here goes, a post from her ...</b></i><br />
<br />
I love to read. I used to try to not let that define me. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be known as ‘the girl with the book’. Surely there was more to me than that. But as the years passed, it struck me - what better description could there possibly be? Books are, in a word, magical - even when they’re not about magic. That girl with her nose buried in the book, she can never be one dimensional. There are so many aspects to her character, so much depth, so many things about her that you can only guess at. You might think she doesn’t have a life, you do not know how many she actually does! On the outside she may seem dull, boring, bookish - so to speak. Look a little closer and you might see that slight smile playing on her lips. Don’t you want to know what caused it? The secret is in those pages. Join her in them. Pick up a book! If you don’t have one handy, ask her if she has another. She usually will.<br />
<div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am not defending myself, I’m trying to explain. Yes, I am the girl with the book. I’m trying to convey just how amazing it is to be that girl. I’m telling you why I wouldn’t want to be anyone else. It’s not because I can’t imagine being anyone else. Oh no! I have lived as so many characters in so many worlds that I can imagine being almost anyone. What I want is for you to experience what I have experienced, to share in the magic that these pages hold. I want your life to be enchanted, the way mine has been so far. I want you to at least give it a try.<br />
<br />
If you ask me to pick between books past and books future, I don’t think I possibly could. There’s so much more to read and discover. So much joy to find! And at the same time there are all those stories in my past. Those books are my friends, they made me who I am today. I need the books I’ve read so far and all of those I shall read in the years to come. I relish the thought of coming across all those as yet unknown treasures. Unknown in the sense I know they exist but where and in what form, only time will tell.<br />
<br />
The thing about books is they’re always there, waiting for you. I’m never lonely, even when I’m alone because I have them with me, always. If not in physical form, they’re there in my head. They’re a refuge, an escape, a haven. Nothing can compare to the comfort of curling up with a good book. It’s the simplest pleasure you can ever receive, and in my experience, the best. But don’t let me be the one telling you, come find out for yourself. Choose a book. Read. <br />
<br />
It’s never too late to read a book. They don’t recognize age limits. Oh, you missed out on Winnie the Pooh? No harm done, pick up a copy now and you can casually walk into the Hundred Acre Woods. You see that door? It’s magical, it never closes. Anytime you feel like it, they’re there waiting for you, tireless and uncomplaining. They have so much to offer, give them a chance. Learn to love books and let them love you. As they have loved me for all these years. Make them a part of your world and they’ll make you a part of theirs. Embrace the joy of reading and no matter where you go, you will always be at home. <br />
<br />
--- <b><i>Rhuta Deobagkar</i></b></div>
</div>
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-18520776871293873642012-04-02T23:49:00.001+05:302012-04-02T23:49:25.930+05:30Fleeting happiness...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Is happiness the same as peace? Is it the heart-felt desire to stay right where you are, forever? Is it in being motionless or in being restless? Forever wanting to be someplace else. Is it in the exploration of places new and dangerously exciting? Sometimes I have felt, it is as simple as just coming home, being with the familiar. But then, the unknown and the surprising has meant joy too. A comfortably warm hug, a quick peck on the cheek, sometimes just a glimpse or a whisper is all it takes. A mother's unspoken happiness at having her kids home and safe and laughing. It brims in her eyes... perhaps you mistakenly think it is a tear. It is in shaking your dad's hand and smiling gently at his gruffly firm handshake and awkward hug. It is in discovering families and finding yourself within them. Shades of you, traces of you. It is in traveling together. Or sometimes just traveling alone, yet to the same place. It can stem from something small like a snatched conversation with some random stranger or the knowledge that it is really about a lifetime together. Scary. It is about growing old. About counting your (few! hah!) white hair and being thrilled that you have one less than him. Hehe! <div>
Am I always happy? I don't think so. But I know that there is so much that makes me happy. It is a good life when you know that you are always just a moment away from happiness. That you are thrilled to be happy, even for just a moment. It comes and goes. Ever changing. Yet never ending. I am loving it :)</div>
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-59872847327965527212012-02-15T17:05:00.001+05:302012-02-15T17:06:16.471+05:30Blah days!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Some days seem just lonely and sad. Like not much matters really. Even the passing of time seems dull, slow. Beloved haunts appear old and deserted. As if entire buildings and structures might crumble down at the slightest whisper of a breeze. Everything seems perishable, delicate, derelict. Dust seems to hang, stagnant, suspended in the air. The sunlight looks dirty, dusty. Even trees seem to have been drained of freshness and life, with wilting leaves that could do with a wash. The birdsong sounds tired. A smile takes effort, laughter seems a dream. Is this ennui? Do places and times <i>influence</i> your mood or do places and times <i>reflect</i> your mood? I have never been able to decide for certain. Perhaps this is just a sign, telling me to move on. To find newer challenges. If I get too comfortable in one place, I will stagnate and get bored and boring. How utterly dreadful!<br />
<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-69659814194086063052012-01-05T13:38:00.000+05:302012-01-05T13:39:33.852+05:30A year gone by...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A year is actually so much time passing by. 365 days, 8760 hours, 525600 minutes or 31536000 seconds. Or so Google tells me. You get older, pretend to be wiser, meet new people, fall out with others. There is a certain comfort of familiarity every year. You know the sun will rise and set a certain number of times this year too. The seasons will change with spring gently bidding goodbye to harsh winters and hot blistering summers making the torrential rains feel like a blessing. You will enjoy festivals, look forward to days of celebration or say a quiet prayer for days of remembrance.<br />
<br />
Yet what keeps you looking forward to another year is the expectation of something new, something different, something that shall make you happier. Not because the last year has been just old or dull or sad. Oh no! Surely the year gone by was new once. You looked forward to that year with a lot of expectations. You were blissfully happy, you cried a lot and you laughed more. You fought like crazy and yet fell in love, a number of times, all over again. You were praised and berated. You were unbelievably successful some days and a colossal failure on other days. It has been a good year for you, yet the new one beckons. It glitters with promises of more everything, better everything, happier everything.<br />
<br />
The year that has gone by has been, for me, one full of moments that make wonderful memories. A year of firsts, of love, laughter, family, togetherness. Umpteen meetings and partings. Adventurous journeys with missed, delayed or cancelled buses, trains and flights. Time seeming to have a will of its own. At times I could sense it dragging along tediously, at others it was rushing by with a whoosh. There are regrets too. But the joys far outweigh these. I look back on this year and I feel thankful for all the wonderful people who have made this year easier, more joyful and memorable. Family, friends, colleagues and of course, the husband. A fantabulous guy. My best friend. Confidant, philosopher, adviser, lover, magician. Thank you for this amazing year. And here's to another beautiful year!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-49374819071814073752011-11-24T13:10:00.001+05:302011-11-24T13:14:27.475+05:30Old spaces and new<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">There are places I remember, all my life,<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Though some have changed, some forever, not for better<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Some have gone, and some remain<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">All these places have their moments...<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span lang="EN-GB"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">In my life I have loved them all.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I
borrow haphazardly from a much loved Beatles song. Today these lines describe
perfectly my swirling thoughts and emotions. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">For
the last few weeks we have all been gearing up for major changes in our lab
lives. There have been massive clean-up missions resulting in the entire place
looking far more cluttered than it did before, even though each time it really
did seem like we discarded literally sacks of junk! We have discovered ancient
stuff that not only looks unidentifiable, but smells weird and is awfully
old-fashioned and outright filthy! There have been many adventures with mice,
lizards, spiders and big black fat ants disturbed from their favourite haunts.
There have been delighted cries at rediscovering a missing instrument or
chemical or even an old greeting card. There have been spontaneous outbursts of
laughter, cut-throat competition to test our abilities to be the best cleaners
and junk-removers, many frayed tempers, much teasing and yet, good strong
friendships and togetherness. Nothing tests you better than a situation where
you need to work cohesively in a group even while maintaining your identity.
And I must have some of the best lab mates in the world! We have learnt to
leave aside personal differences and gel into a cohesive unit. It also helps
that each of us has a definite sense of belonging; we feel it is our lab and
hence we work because we want to, not because we must or have been told to do
so. Hard work, perseverance, some essential planning and an incredibly involved
and enthusiastic boss have made the change seem easier.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">The
change I mention is one of place and space. We move from our old, historical,
dilapidated building to the supposedly fancy, new one. We move from a
cluttered, yet much loved space to a bigger, stranger place. I have loved my
old lab. I have learnt a lot here and met an awful lot of lovely people,
fantastic seniors and current lab mates, who are more friends than colleagues.
Doesn’t a place seem dearer if you have had memorable experiences and forged
important relationships in it? It seems like I knew almost every nook and
corner of the old lab. It was comfortably familiar. And as always, letting go
of the known is not easy. But, I do like the airy spaciousness of the new
place, the open plan and the light flooding in. It seems like a good place. I
know it shall now take a conscious effort to make the new place seem ours. To treat
it like a new fresh canvas on which to paint our individual strokes with many a
flourish and much faith. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">A
new sense of belonging is priceless, yet letting go of the old one brings a
tinge of tears to my eyes. It makes me want to store the memories of the last
lab meeting, the last experiment, the last round of discussions in the old
place. There is a feeling of sadness when I see the packed boxes, the dusty work
benches and the empty rooms that echo eerily. But change is supposed to be a
good thing. And we are supposed to be moving on to better facilities, more
space and opportunities for greater coordination between the biological
sciences. Even though it seems like a mammoth task at present, I look forward
to the day when it feels like I could walk through the entire building in the
middle of a dark night and yet not lose my way. To the day when I walk into the
lab and it feels mine again. I hope we make it into our lucky new place and
that we do some of our best science here in the next few months. I hope we
charge up the space with our enthusiasm and energy. Amen. Or something like it.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-59883986291722993432011-09-29T20:38:00.002+05:302011-09-29T20:38:42.434+05:30Polka-dotted frocks<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Today afternoon I saw two little girls in pigtails, riding their bicycles and giggling away. Their matching polka-dotted frocks, their smiles and the aura of complete freedom around them made me aware of a pang of envy, of longing for times gone.<br />
There was a time when five little girls would all be fitted out in bright matching cotton frocks with identical patterns and frills, just a specially different colour for each one. Those were days of carefree summers, of youth and fearless adventure. Of mangoes, afternoon picnics, hide and seek, tantrums and umpteen tumbles. I can even see their eyes... happy, wide and guileless. Anything seemed possible then, the world was a personal stage. A place where everybody was meant to be happy.<br />
And then the little girls grew up. Back then, I remember I wanted to grow up fast, real fast. Today I wish, sometimes, that we never did have to grow up. That we could have remained that age forever. Friends together. Sisters together. Time never lets you stay that young. It snatches away those moments of togetherness. It makes you grow up. As each of us now looks ahead to a new and different life, I hope we shall remember those happy sunny summers. Those shared holidays and the "gachhi" at aji-papa's house that was our permanent adda and treasure trove! I shall miss those times. Always.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-87348460729883851422011-09-27T21:08:00.001+05:302011-09-29T17:56:58.595+05:30Life Lessons<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have gone through life believing I am lucky. Have tried to live life in the open wind and the sunshine. I have had a lovely life, full of the most beautiful people and times. Have believed in kindness and niceness and genuine goodness. Trusted with my heart and had faith, always.<br />
<br />
Yet not everything is as lovely as it seems. The harsh light brings with it shadows and darkness. You chance upon people who can spoil everything, people you wish you didn't have to meet ever again. Have you met these blurry, shadowy, seemingly crazy, hurtful and self-obsessed people who refuse to grow up and face the world? They never bothered me before because I thought they were just in that bad phase and that they would change... because people are essentially nice. I have never believed that anybody is inherently mean or bitchy. I have never wanted to believe that any person is crooked within. It is just a bad time for that person. They seem to see a grey and glum world and perhaps decide that the world deserves a grey and glum person.<br />
<br />
But the world is as it always has been. Real. Lively. Tough. But worth it. Every moment. And I wonder, why do I have to be understanding enough to wait for someone to see the truth? Wait while it hurts? A waiting I do not deserve. What for? For those who see a tainted world? For those who do not think before they speak or act and who do not see or value anything beyond themselves? How fair is this? Is it better to stay still and wait for this to pass? Should I smile and shrug it off or should I react?<br />
<br />
I think I like my life better with its love and warmth and friendship. I choose to believe in that. I choose to let that, and that alone, be my truth, my reality.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-52993012250938314672011-08-04T00:49:00.001+05:302011-08-04T00:56:05.365+05:30Another of R's pomes :P<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><i>(An old poem by my lil sister. Found the original handwritten one and laughed over it so much today. Here's to memories of childhood fights and her ability to still see the humour!)</i><br />
<br />
'Tis a night like every other,<br />
'Tis time for my nightly fight,<br />
I must fight for my rights wi' my sister,<br />
She just refuses to put out the lights!<br />
<br />
I shout, I argue, I coax<br />
But all of it is in vain.<br />
She just yells right back at me<br />
And tells me I'm a royal pain.<br />
<br />
That's it. It's over. Stop it.<br />
I've taken about all I can bear<br />
Now its time for us to call the referee.<br />
And decide exactly who stands where.<br />
<br />
Our mother marches in and glares at us,<br />
And berates us for making a din.<br />
We both start pestering my sister<br />
And she eventually caves in.<br />
<br />
But she refuses to go down gracefully.<br />
She still will put up a fight.<br />
She bangs about as long as she can<br />
And then reluctantly puts out the light.<br />
<br />
And then when the night is almost over,<br />
And when the joy of the fight starts to pall,<br />
She comes and sleeps right next to me.<br />
I mean, we're sisters after all.<br />
<br />
--- Rhuta Deobagkar<br />
<br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-67506733580824477652011-08-02T18:11:00.000+05:302011-08-02T18:11:19.451+05:30Charmed Lives<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">What am I supposed to do with the oodles of unsolicited advice that jumps at me from around every corner? Even when I don't really have a problem in my life, there is always somebody around that wants to convince me that I am facing, or am about to face, a huge gigantic problem and then they proceed to dole out advice concerning the ways and means to tackle this heretofore non-existent problem. Blah!<br />
<div>First and foremost, I lead a charmed life. If that makes you nod your head and sigh at my immaturity or naivety, all I can say is, "Too bad!" and some more "Blah". I have the most awesome friends and family and I love the work I do. If I crib about all or any of the above at times, it is just to entertain myself, and I do that well. Okay, maybe I do not exactly entertain myself, but some complaining helps to let off steam. It helps me to appreciate all I have after a storm of self pity and self obsession.<br />
Apparently, it makes me seem a lot more interesting if my life is angst-ridden and a veritable tragedy just waiting to happen! The more sorrowful my eyes and the more heart-felt my sighs, the more my life seems 'happening' and 'dramatic'! Albeit, to others. To me it is always dramatic even when it is full of light and laughter with an unbroken series of highs.</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-4200850886105732542011-07-07T22:46:00.000+05:302011-07-07T22:46:50.873+05:30And then, there shall be none...<div class="MsoNormal">The weird thing is that we go through life knowing it shall all end. The very fact that I exist implies that I shall cease to do so at some point in time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I am sure it is rather silly to live an entire lifetime being afraid of what is, after all, unchangeable! So, though I ought to acknowledge that I have only a finite period of time available to me, it never shall make any sense to fear this. Yet, we are all afraid.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">So then I ask myself, if I am anyway going to die one day, and I am very well aware of the fact, what is it that I am so afraid of in my life? And you know what, the answers are many! I am afraid of pain, of not knowing, of loss, of uncertainty. Small little things, but each of them makes me fearful. There have been times, when I would have given anything for the absence of pain, physical or emotional. Other times I would give anything to hold on, to never let go. You might very well wonder what I know of pain and loss in my safe little world. And I must agree it is hardly an iota of the pain of millions of others. And yet, to me, my world revolves around my experiences, and I can only speak with reference to those.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">I guess, at the end, it shall matter not whether we were afraid, but it shall matter whether we could live with our fears and yet be tremendously happy. </span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-12370338447209971542011-06-26T19:31:00.002+05:302011-06-27T21:07:44.587+05:30Fevered Musings<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0hOAGvn4fCu01W_olrQbIwEsif2TZe9GNt40i9iotCX9RHCbY9r7Neu8g0e6WT3wm-7Hz7NZF8xdcmc1fkgvD5Zr8uki1IwqxsG9xcWgUlM3D-dMZTd2vLBgwI_TCQ_wrvqGcSQ/s1600/nightmare.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0hOAGvn4fCu01W_olrQbIwEsif2TZe9GNt40i9iotCX9RHCbY9r7Neu8g0e6WT3wm-7Hz7NZF8xdcmc1fkgvD5Zr8uki1IwqxsG9xcWgUlM3D-dMZTd2vLBgwI_TCQ_wrvqGcSQ/s320/nightmare.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Picture Credits: Aditya Lele</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>I was feverish all through last night and it was an enlightening experience. Did you know that your mind can be astoundingly creative when you are not completely in control of it? I had vivid dreams. I wove stories in my mind. Each one spilling into the other. Never ending. Surreal. Nightmarish. The characters were strong and well defined. They went places, they did things, and they lived larger-than-life lives. I kept telling myself to note each detail. Something about the exact words to perfectly catch an expression or the heartbreakingly beautiful way with words I seemed to have discovered. I wrote it all down. My masterpiece. On paper. In black and white. Or so I thought.<br />
Alas, the fever broke with the dawn and with it were gone my stories. My poor little stories. Washed away. Just like that.</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-61848128775629732692011-05-22T01:02:00.001+05:302011-05-22T11:30:40.383+05:30<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Some days I am so lost within myself that I forget to look outside. Remind me about the world at those times.</li>
<li>When I get obsessed with <i>my</i> problems, <i>my</i> schedule, <i>my</i> life, remind me that the world does not revolve around me, neither shall it stand still for me.</li>
<li>On those days when I am outstandingly horrible, smile and love me. I promise to be better.</li>
<li>When I make too many demands, indulge me. I shall make up for the insanity. </li>
<li>At times there are so many voices in my head, I forget it is my own voice that is getting drowned. Help me hear it clearly.</li>
<li>When I am all hung up on how the entire world is against me, let me know, again, that you are on my team.</li>
<li>Laugh with me and at me, always. </li>
</ul><br />
<i>“Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Just walk beside me and be my friend.</i>" ---- Albert Camus</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-49561774533763607612011-03-21T00:26:00.001+05:302011-03-21T01:58:11.793+05:30All that is bright and beautiful...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">When did we become so cynical? When did we stop believing in good endings and happily-ever-afters? When did our first reaction become a sarcastic snort and a sharp toss of the head instead of a smile and a twinkle in the eye? When did we stop wincing upon hearing about massive devastation or a minor loss?<br />
Is it just me or has everybody around become a little tougher, a little harder and a lot less sensitive? We seem to take even major disasters in our stride, as if it is all but natural! Gory details do not seem to disturb us, nor do the sight of atrocities. We just casually flip the newspaper sheet aside or change channels or move on. We voice opinions volubly and knowledgeably and yet never seem to be really touched by the pain that is somebody else's life.<br />
I do not know whether this is a kind of defense mechanism. Perhaps if we let everything affect us, we shall never be able to get on with the daily business of living. So letting it all flow over may seem like a good idea. It is when this becomes a habit and not just a temporary reaction, that it frightens me. Not letting something disturb you and being obviously nonchalant and flippant about it are completely different reactions. But does this mean that we have stopped believing in the good and the beautiful? Have we grown accustomed to everything being gray and dingy and dull and soulless? Or do we at least sometimes wish to see fresh colour around every corner and look forward to warmth and brightness and life?<br />
I so want to believe in goodness and beauty and justice and all things wise and wonderful. At times I just long for the strength to believe. All else shall fall in to place then. Or so I hope.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26104794.post-12432718611050006842011-03-20T23:52:00.000+05:302011-03-20T23:52:40.552+05:30Old and new<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Have you ever realized that to really accept something new and to make it part of you and your life, you need to let go of the old, at least for a while? You have to get to the point where the new is as much natural for you as the old. And this has to do with acceptance. It takes a lot of conversation with one self and others. It comes with the added baggage of guilt and feelings of disloyalty about all that shall be missed awhile. It is not easy. Trust me. Some heartache, a few tears and a lot of thought and will power are called for.<br />
And surprisingly the new is something that you are looking forward to with all your being. It is exciting and promising. Yet it is frightening. The old is comfortable and warm and something you have gotten used to, till it has become second nature. They say moving on is part of life. But that is easy when you want to break off with the old. Moving on to the new while never cutting off all the strings that bind you to the old is mighty tough. <div>At times it seems like all of life is a balancing act. You don't lose perspective and keep your focus on maintaining balance and all shall be well. The only problem is that you are not always lucky enough to have a broad beam to balance on, sometimes you need to walk on incredibly thin ropes... But in the end, it all seems worth the while and the pain and the laughter as long as some one is holding your hand along the way.<br />
</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1