Friday, May 14, 2010
Friday, February 20, 2009
Labels: Friends, Happiness, Lessons, Life, Loneliness, One sentence
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Impassioned ranting of a deeply upset mind
Thursday, November 06, 2008
Memories from long ago are crystal clear in my head, like that pungent (but inexplicably comforting) smell of spices in a south indian flour-mill many years ago in a town with an unpronouncable name, or that little pool of water - a gutter really, below the tiny bridge that the school bus went over everyday, and seeing a water-lily in that for the first time ever. Or even the weight and texture of the hands that never should have trespassed and touched the flesh that wasn't willing, ready or old enough to understand. It's all fresh in the mind like it happened yesterday. Only it didn't.
On the other hand, more recent years - at least a couple of them - are completely unclear and hazy - like bits of a dream that you try in vain to remember the next day, like a foggy winter morning in an unfamiliar new place. So much so that sometimes something flashes before my eyes, like a waking dream; something vaguely familiar, and i'm left astounded, for i don't know if it really happened, and if the person i saw was really me. And i know that if i delved on it, closed my eyes just long enough, it would all come back bit by bit. All of it. But i don't. I understand that it is my mind trying to self-heal, by blocking away memories that have no place in my life anymore. And i'm ok with that. I know by now that my mind is a more reliable friend and guide than my heart.
And besides, why would i want to go back to that dank, dark place? It's nice to have the noises in the head silenced finally, to have the cloud lifted. It's great to see the bright side of life, and to be simple and uncomplicated again.
So here i am, in the dead of the night, realizing that i will be good, and clear as water, with no exciting new secrets. There will be no more being an enigma - and the adrenaline and other heady stuff that goes with it, and i'm not complaining. That was my kick then, this is my nirvana now.
So now, maybe i should get back to the much neglected, half-done presentation. Only, that is something that the older (the younger) me would do. So instead, i'm going to call it a night and get my 7 hrs of sleep. Till the next time, then!
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
It's your birthday, but you aren't here anymore. Well, are you watching us from heaven? What do you see? Are you shocked? Afraid? Dismayed? Saddened? Do you feel angry? Angry that your life seems to have been a waste? That we so efficiently undid all that you spent your life building?
What can i say? I'm sorry for all of us. We have never needed you as much as we do now, but if you were here, we'd have killed you faster than we did the last time you were around. Only this time, you'd die not of a bullet, but of heartbreak. Like i said, I'm sorry.
Happy Birthday.
Ps - Photo taken in Vizag: A street artiste posing as human statue. Whadya know... we have em in India too!
Saturday, September 13, 2008
You may say i'm a dreamer, but am not the only one...
Your eyes widen in shock and concern, and you gravitate towards the nearest television set, also frenziedly scanning your memory for names of friends and other loved ones living in that city. One after another you text or call them all, and more often than not, get through none. On TV, newschannels scream 'Breaking news', and correspondents at the site of the tragedy air in high-pitched and well-intended but a little useless and definitely insensitive reports from the location. Wailing relatives, bloodied sidewalks, shredded body parts, overfilled ambulances and stretchers, harrowed police and gallant samaritans - the images repeat over and over until you're so sick of it you change the channel. Only to find the next one relaying the same content.
And besides, there are things to do and places to go. Office reports to prepare, birthday gifts to buy, and relationships of all kinds – some to nurture, some to snap. There isn't time to brood about the serial blasts in a city at least ten thousand miles away or to do something drastic a la Naseeruddin Shah in ‘A Wednesday’.
And so you go back to working on the presentation due the next day or buying the veggies or reading the book or making dinner or going to the gym or whatever it is that you do. And like one news channel commented, slowly you become numb, you start ‘adjusting’ and getting comfortable with the sinister new neighbour - Fear. Slowly, you feel as much (or as little) as you feel when you hear about a road accident. Very sad... terrible...tsk tsk... the poor family... so young...etc etc. And then it’s back to the newspaper or the computer screen.
So i do the opposite of what i really want to do. I pray. That someday we will have common sense prevail. That we will live without fear. That the killing in the name of religion will stop. That there will be a day when i'm no longer convinced that there isn't one place in my own country where i'd feel safe and content enough to have and bring up my kids.