Every time I'm perturbed because of what others said or did, my mom asks me to calm down and to try and flush it out of my system. I cannot begin to explain how difficult that becomes at times.
It is easier said than done. When our friends seem to be climbing the success ladder faster than us, it does bother the inner self. No, its not being envious. It essentially is not a negative feeling. But it evokes a sense of urgency, a fear of being left behind. And that in a way seems to be instinctive. Blame the society, blame the modern age or blame yourself; you cannot run away from it. Let's face it, we do get affected!
In all these complexities of life, we in a way forget to ask ourselves, what had we actually set out for? It actually becomes difficult to recall what exactly was the sole purpose of it all. After series of adaptations and alterations, the original seems to be lost far behind. And that is sad. What is worse is that after being caught in a mindless struggle for the supreme position, we don't even bother anymore about things which should be primary; for instance love, friendship and commitments.
This sort of creates a loop again. These questions of shoulds and musts are in a way directives to conformity. These again are assembled on the pillars of societal notions. It's like we are stuck in this loop. Moving from one point to another in circles. Basically not getting anywhere.
This age we live in again, is not very accepting. Neither is it inclusive. Either you fit in, force in or be left out. We are again tending towards the jungle rule.
Caught in between the inner and outer self, it becomes difficult to choose between x and y. How do you devise your modus operandi ? And given the above premise, what should a generic protocol be? Should it be conforming or non-conforming?
What's your call?
Friday, December 17, 2010
Monday, December 6, 2010
One day when we’ll be old, we’ll walk ourselves to an empty bench in the park right outside our home to soak in the drifting afternoon sun as the clouds wander up above in the sky.
I will place my head on your shoulders and you will gently clasp my hands. I’ll pretend to look at you while I look at all those years in between us. In absolute sequence, I’ll make myself walk down all the ages spent together, sitting there with you.
I will point out to you some bits and pieces of our lives. You will laugh at some, smile at some and tease me ‘bout the others. I’ll smile along.
And as we soak in the warmth of our togetherness, we will have too many memories to recollect and too many things to put a tick against. We will call ourselves rash for some, brave for some, foolish for some and crazy for the others.
I believe the crazy parts will surely outdo the others. I don’t think we’ll be wise. We have set out to be unwise, haven’t we love?
Like photographs arranged together to recreate the past times, I’ll lay down before you all our factions. Each one of them which we shared together. You’ll do the same. And thus there in that moment, we will have recreated our lives. Piece by piece, layer upon layer, memory after memory…
I wonder if we’ll still need to tell each other how much he or she is loved. I have been told that with love and with companionship, words cease to serve themselves as useful. The customary by and large takes over. But I think, I’ll still hold your arm and while we help ourselves walk back home and whilst you make sure I’m fine, I’ll silently whisper into your ears the words which will have become by then the meaning of life - the soul of our eternity.
I love you.
I will place my head on your shoulders and you will gently clasp my hands. I’ll pretend to look at you while I look at all those years in between us. In absolute sequence, I’ll make myself walk down all the ages spent together, sitting there with you.
I will point out to you some bits and pieces of our lives. You will laugh at some, smile at some and tease me ‘bout the others. I’ll smile along.
And as we soak in the warmth of our togetherness, we will have too many memories to recollect and too many things to put a tick against. We will call ourselves rash for some, brave for some, foolish for some and crazy for the others.
I believe the crazy parts will surely outdo the others. I don’t think we’ll be wise. We have set out to be unwise, haven’t we love?
Like photographs arranged together to recreate the past times, I’ll lay down before you all our factions. Each one of them which we shared together. You’ll do the same. And thus there in that moment, we will have recreated our lives. Piece by piece, layer upon layer, memory after memory…
I wonder if we’ll still need to tell each other how much he or she is loved. I have been told that with love and with companionship, words cease to serve themselves as useful. The customary by and large takes over. But I think, I’ll still hold your arm and while we help ourselves walk back home and whilst you make sure I’m fine, I’ll silently whisper into your ears the words which will have become by then the meaning of life - the soul of our eternity.
I love you.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Education
Last week I watched ‘An Education’. It’s a 2009 Oscar Nominated movie. This movie is about a 17 year old school girl. The movie begins with her mom and dad’s dream of seeing their daughter go to the eminent Oxford University. This dream is instilled in her in a way that she begins to think that Oxford would be the place where she would begin to explore the world. A gateway to all the great French movies and music and books. She would read and learn and live. In a way she has been told.
Along comes this man who momentarily frees her from her cocooned world and shows her a different world. She is escorted into the world which she dreamt of. She’s taken to music concerts, to the English countryside, to Paris and into the luxuries of life. Not only does she find herself falling for this man but she also finds her parents wooed by this very charming person. He asks her to marry him. Before she can say yes her parents hurriedly offer their consent for they know she will be ‘taken care of’ by this rich, charming gentleman. The dream of Oxford University is pushed away. Who needs an education anyway when you know you shall have everything a comfortable life asks for at your disposal?
She unable to comprehend the flow of her life agrees and drops out of school. As was expected the man turns out to be a fraud. He was already married. He leaves without any apologies to her or her family.
Though the movie ends with her going back to school and ultimately making it to Oxford University, it got me curious. What was the purpose of education in this girl’s life? To give her a good life? To grant her, her dream of achieving the arty things she wished for when the other options did not work out in her favor?
Why did she go back when she had dropped out with complete conviction that what she learnt in class was not necessary for a better life? Why was education condensed to a mere alternative? Why is education never seen as something born out of pure love for a certain subject? What exactly is the purpose of education in our life? Is it just an either-or choice that we make?
Somehow at the end of the movie, I felt they belittled the role of education. Education, in my opinion offers a wider panorama. It should not be a means but a way of life. For once we need to segregate education as learning and then eventually earning process and education as a trans formative process. Both are essentially different.
Along comes this man who momentarily frees her from her cocooned world and shows her a different world. She is escorted into the world which she dreamt of. She’s taken to music concerts, to the English countryside, to Paris and into the luxuries of life. Not only does she find herself falling for this man but she also finds her parents wooed by this very charming person. He asks her to marry him. Before she can say yes her parents hurriedly offer their consent for they know she will be ‘taken care of’ by this rich, charming gentleman. The dream of Oxford University is pushed away. Who needs an education anyway when you know you shall have everything a comfortable life asks for at your disposal?
She unable to comprehend the flow of her life agrees and drops out of school. As was expected the man turns out to be a fraud. He was already married. He leaves without any apologies to her or her family.
Though the movie ends with her going back to school and ultimately making it to Oxford University, it got me curious. What was the purpose of education in this girl’s life? To give her a good life? To grant her, her dream of achieving the arty things she wished for when the other options did not work out in her favor?
Why did she go back when she had dropped out with complete conviction that what she learnt in class was not necessary for a better life? Why was education condensed to a mere alternative? Why is education never seen as something born out of pure love for a certain subject? What exactly is the purpose of education in our life? Is it just an either-or choice that we make?
Somehow at the end of the movie, I felt they belittled the role of education. Education, in my opinion offers a wider panorama. It should not be a means but a way of life. For once we need to segregate education as learning and then eventually earning process and education as a trans formative process. Both are essentially different.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Reflections on India By Sean Paul Kelley
Sean Paul Kelley is a travel writer, former radio host, and before that an asset manager for a Wall Street investment bank that is still (barely) alive. He recently left a fantastic job in Singapore working for Solar Winds, a software company based out of Austin to travel around the world for a year (or two). He founded The Agonist in 2002, which is still considered the top international affairs, culture and news destination for progressives. He is also the Global Correspondent for The Young Turks on satellite radio and Air America .
If you are Indian, or of Indian descent, I must preface this post with a clear warning: you are not going to like what I have to say. My criticisms may be very hard to stomach. But consider them as the hard words and loving advice of a good friend. Someone who’s being honest with you and wants nothing from you.
These criticisms apply to all of India except Kerala and the places I didn’t visit, except that I have a feeling it applies to all of India , except as I mentioned before, Kerala.
Lastly, before anyone accuses me of Western Cultural Imperialism, let me say this: if this is what India and Indians want, then hey, who am I to tell them differently. Take what you like and leave the rest. In the end it doesn’t really matter, as I get the sense that Indians, at least many upper class Indians, don’t seem to care and the lower classes just don’t know any better, what with Indian culture being so intense and pervasive on the sub-continent. But here goes, nonetheless.
India is a mess. It’s that simple, but it’s also quite complicated. I’ll start with what I think are India ’s four major problems–the four most preventing India from becoming a developing nation–and then move to some of the ancillary ones.
First, pollution. In my opinion the filth, squalor and all around pollution indicates a marked lack of respect for India by Indians. I don’t know how cultural the filth is, but it’s really beyond anything I have ever encountered. At times the smells, trash, refuse and excrement are like a garbage dump.
Right next door to the Taj Mahal was a pile of trash that smelled so bad, was so foul as to almost ruin the entire Taj experience. Delhi , Bangalore and Chennai to a lesser degree were so very polluted as to make me physically ill. Sinus infections, ear infection, bowels churning was an all to common experience in India . Dung, be it goat, cow or human fecal matter was common on the streets. In major tourist areas filth was everywhere, littering the sidewalks, the roadways, you name it. Toilets in the middle of the road, men urinating and defecating anywhere, in broad daylight.
Whole villages are plastic bag wastelands. Roadsides are choked by it. Air quality that can hardly be called quality. Far too much coal and far to few unleaded vehicles on the road. The measure should be how dangerous the air is for one’s health, not how good it is. People casually throw trash in the streets, on the roads.
The only two cities that could be considered sanitary in my journey were Trivandrum –the capital of Kerala–and Calicut . I don’t know why this is. But I can assure you that at some point this pollution will cut into India ’s productivity, if it already hasn’t. The pollution will hobble India ’s growth path, if that indeed is what the country wants. (Which I personally doubt, as India is far too conservative a country, in the small ‘c’ sense.)
The second is sue , infrastructure, can be divided into four subcategories: roads, rails and ports and the electrical grid. The electrical grid is a joke. Load shedding is all too common, everywhere in India . Wide swaths of the country spend much of the day without the electricity they actually pay for. With out regular electricity, productivity, again, falls.
The ports are a joke. Antiquated, out of date, hardly even appropriate for the mechanized world of container ports, more in line with the days of longshoremen and the like. Roads are an equal disaster. I only saw one elevated highway that would be considered decent in Thailand , much less Western Europe or America . And I covered fully two thirds of the country during my visit.
There are so few dual carriage way roads as to be laughable. There are no traffic laws to speak of, and if there are, they are rarely obeyed, much less enforced. A drive that should take an hour takes three. A drive that should take three takes nine. The buses are at least thirty years old, if not older.
Everyone in India , or who travels in India raves about the railway system. Rubbish. It’s awful. Now, when I was there in 2003 and then late 2004 it was decent. But in the last five years the traffic on the rails has grown so quickly that once again, it is threatening productivity. Waiting in line just to ask a question now takes thirty minutes. Routes are routinely sold out three and four days in advance now, leaving travelers stranded with little option except to take the decrepit and dangerous buses.
At least fifty million people use the trains a day in India . 50 million people! Not surprising that wait lists of 500 or more people are common now.
The rails are affordable and comprehensive but they are overcrowded and what with budget airlines popping up in India like Sadhus in an ashram the middle and lowers classes are left to deal with the overutilized rails and quality suffers. No one seems to give a shit.
Seriously, I just never have the impression that the Indian government really cares. Too interested in buying weapons from Russia , Israel and the US I guess.
The last major problem in India is an old problem and can be divided into two parts that’ve been two sides of the same coin since government was invented: bureaucracy and corruption.
It take triplicates to register into a hotel. To get a SIM card for one’s phone is like wading into a jungle of red-tape and photocopies one is not likely to emerge from in a good mood, much less satisfied with customer service.
Getting train tickets is a terrible ordeal, first you have to find the train number, which takes 30 minutes, then you have to fill in the form, which is far from easy, then you have to wait in line to try and make a reservation, which takes 30 minutes at least and if you made a single mistake on the form back you go to the end of the queue, or what passes for a queue in India.
The government is notoriously uninterested in the problems of the commoners, too busy fleecing the rich, or trying to get rich themselves in some way shape or form. Take the trash for example, civil rubbish collection authorities are too busy taking kickbacks from the wealthy to keep their areas clean that they don’t have the time, manpower, money or interest in doing their job.
Rural hospitals are perennially understaffed as doctors pocket the fees the government pays them, never show up at the rural hospitals and practice in the cities instead.
I could go on for quite some time about my perception of India and its problems, but in all seriousness, I don’t think anyone in India really cares. And that, to me, is the biggest problem. India is too conservative a society to want to change in any way.
Mumbai, India ’s financial capital is about as filthy, polluted and poor as the worst city imaginable in Vietnam , or Indonesia –and being more polluted than Medan , in Sumatra is no easy task. The biggest rats I have ever seen were in Medan !
One would expect a certain amount of, yes, I am going to use this word, backwardness, in a country that hasn’t produced so many Nobel Laureates, nuclear physicists, imminent economists and entrepreneurs. But India has all these things and what have they brought back to India with them? Nothing.
The rich still have their servants, the lower castes are still there to do the dirty work and so the country remains in stasis. It’s a shame. Indians and India have many wonderful things to offer the world, but I’m far from sanguine that India will amount to much in my lifetime.
Now, have at it, call me a cultural imperialist, a spoiled child of the West and all that. But remember, I’ve been there. I’ve done it. And I’ve seen 50 other countries on this planet and none, not even Ethiopia , have as long and gargantuan a laundry list of problems as India does.
And the bottom line is, I don’t think India really cares. Too complacent and too conservative
If you are Indian, or of Indian descent, I must preface this post with a clear warning: you are not going to like what I have to say. My criticisms may be very hard to stomach. But consider them as the hard words and loving advice of a good friend. Someone who’s being honest with you and wants nothing from you.
These criticisms apply to all of India except Kerala and the places I didn’t visit, except that I have a feeling it applies to all of India , except as I mentioned before, Kerala.
Lastly, before anyone accuses me of Western Cultural Imperialism, let me say this: if this is what India and Indians want, then hey, who am I to tell them differently. Take what you like and leave the rest. In the end it doesn’t really matter, as I get the sense that Indians, at least many upper class Indians, don’t seem to care and the lower classes just don’t know any better, what with Indian culture being so intense and pervasive on the sub-continent. But here goes, nonetheless.
India is a mess. It’s that simple, but it’s also quite complicated. I’ll start with what I think are India ’s four major problems–the four most preventing India from becoming a developing nation–and then move to some of the ancillary ones.
First, pollution. In my opinion the filth, squalor and all around pollution indicates a marked lack of respect for India by Indians. I don’t know how cultural the filth is, but it’s really beyond anything I have ever encountered. At times the smells, trash, refuse and excrement are like a garbage dump.
Right next door to the Taj Mahal was a pile of trash that smelled so bad, was so foul as to almost ruin the entire Taj experience. Delhi , Bangalore and Chennai to a lesser degree were so very polluted as to make me physically ill. Sinus infections, ear infection, bowels churning was an all to common experience in India . Dung, be it goat, cow or human fecal matter was common on the streets. In major tourist areas filth was everywhere, littering the sidewalks, the roadways, you name it. Toilets in the middle of the road, men urinating and defecating anywhere, in broad daylight.
Whole villages are plastic bag wastelands. Roadsides are choked by it. Air quality that can hardly be called quality. Far too much coal and far to few unleaded vehicles on the road. The measure should be how dangerous the air is for one’s health, not how good it is. People casually throw trash in the streets, on the roads.
The only two cities that could be considered sanitary in my journey were Trivandrum –the capital of Kerala–and Calicut . I don’t know why this is. But I can assure you that at some point this pollution will cut into India ’s productivity, if it already hasn’t. The pollution will hobble India ’s growth path, if that indeed is what the country wants. (Which I personally doubt, as India is far too conservative a country, in the small ‘c’ sense.)
The second is sue , infrastructure, can be divided into four subcategories: roads, rails and ports and the electrical grid. The electrical grid is a joke. Load shedding is all too common, everywhere in India . Wide swaths of the country spend much of the day without the electricity they actually pay for. With out regular electricity, productivity, again, falls.
The ports are a joke. Antiquated, out of date, hardly even appropriate for the mechanized world of container ports, more in line with the days of longshoremen and the like. Roads are an equal disaster. I only saw one elevated highway that would be considered decent in Thailand , much less Western Europe or America . And I covered fully two thirds of the country during my visit.
There are so few dual carriage way roads as to be laughable. There are no traffic laws to speak of, and if there are, they are rarely obeyed, much less enforced. A drive that should take an hour takes three. A drive that should take three takes nine. The buses are at least thirty years old, if not older.
Everyone in India , or who travels in India raves about the railway system. Rubbish. It’s awful. Now, when I was there in 2003 and then late 2004 it was decent. But in the last five years the traffic on the rails has grown so quickly that once again, it is threatening productivity. Waiting in line just to ask a question now takes thirty minutes. Routes are routinely sold out three and four days in advance now, leaving travelers stranded with little option except to take the decrepit and dangerous buses.
At least fifty million people use the trains a day in India . 50 million people! Not surprising that wait lists of 500 or more people are common now.
The rails are affordable and comprehensive but they are overcrowded and what with budget airlines popping up in India like Sadhus in an ashram the middle and lowers classes are left to deal with the overutilized rails and quality suffers. No one seems to give a shit.
Seriously, I just never have the impression that the Indian government really cares. Too interested in buying weapons from Russia , Israel and the US I guess.
The last major problem in India is an old problem and can be divided into two parts that’ve been two sides of the same coin since government was invented: bureaucracy and corruption.
It take triplicates to register into a hotel. To get a SIM card for one’s phone is like wading into a jungle of red-tape and photocopies one is not likely to emerge from in a good mood, much less satisfied with customer service.
Getting train tickets is a terrible ordeal, first you have to find the train number, which takes 30 minutes, then you have to fill in the form, which is far from easy, then you have to wait in line to try and make a reservation, which takes 30 minutes at least and if you made a single mistake on the form back you go to the end of the queue, or what passes for a queue in India.
The government is notoriously uninterested in the problems of the commoners, too busy fleecing the rich, or trying to get rich themselves in some way shape or form. Take the trash for example, civil rubbish collection authorities are too busy taking kickbacks from the wealthy to keep their areas clean that they don’t have the time, manpower, money or interest in doing their job.
Rural hospitals are perennially understaffed as doctors pocket the fees the government pays them, never show up at the rural hospitals and practice in the cities instead.
I could go on for quite some time about my perception of India and its problems, but in all seriousness, I don’t think anyone in India really cares. And that, to me, is the biggest problem. India is too conservative a society to want to change in any way.
Mumbai, India ’s financial capital is about as filthy, polluted and poor as the worst city imaginable in Vietnam , or Indonesia –and being more polluted than Medan , in Sumatra is no easy task. The biggest rats I have ever seen were in Medan !
One would expect a certain amount of, yes, I am going to use this word, backwardness, in a country that hasn’t produced so many Nobel Laureates, nuclear physicists, imminent economists and entrepreneurs. But India has all these things and what have they brought back to India with them? Nothing.
The rich still have their servants, the lower castes are still there to do the dirty work and so the country remains in stasis. It’s a shame. Indians and India have many wonderful things to offer the world, but I’m far from sanguine that India will amount to much in my lifetime.
Now, have at it, call me a cultural imperialist, a spoiled child of the West and all that. But remember, I’ve been there. I’ve done it. And I’ve seen 50 other countries on this planet and none, not even Ethiopia , have as long and gargantuan a laundry list of problems as India does.
And the bottom line is, I don’t think India really cares. Too complacent and too conservative
Friday, August 6, 2010
I have never been this happy before. I have never been this calm. Even in the honking and blaring of Delhi traffic, I have a smile on my face. And I know life's good.
Its beautiful rather. To live and to completely belong to the man I have now forever been in love with.
Love, it may change lives. It may change destinies. It may destruct or resurrect. Or form or dissolve.
Its been a little more than all this to me. Just a tiny bit more.
Its given me our 2 am noodles. Its given me our songs. Our rhythm, our reasons, our just-like-that days, our desires, our passions, our dreams, our pleasure. Our lives.
And in all this, the story has changed pace. The writers remain. They have to. They will.
Forever holds. Time does not.
Its beautiful rather. To live and to completely belong to the man I have now forever been in love with.
Love, it may change lives. It may change destinies. It may destruct or resurrect. Or form or dissolve.
Its been a little more than all this to me. Just a tiny bit more.
Its given me our 2 am noodles. Its given me our songs. Our rhythm, our reasons, our just-like-that days, our desires, our passions, our dreams, our pleasure. Our lives.
And in all this, the story has changed pace. The writers remain. They have to. They will.
Forever holds. Time does not.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Colors.
If the old grey crescent moon comes peeping to your window, please let it know that I’ve left.
I have waited too long in search of Silver.
If someday we happen to meet again, you will know how long I’ve waited. Long till my Silver turned to Grey. And on moist mornings, when you thought the White replaced all. It was only me in hurry-scurry tucking away your Grey. Lest you find them.
I’ve seen you in colors. As Red melted into White crafting Pink, I’ve seen you softer. Tender. And as Sapphire blended into Black, I’ve feared you.
From darks to lights. I’ve seen you through each one of them. In colors. Or pallid. Of yesteryears and today.
And I’ve loved you through each one of them.
Through Rusted earth and fiery Gold.
In my own rustic way.
I have waited too long in search of Silver.
If someday we happen to meet again, you will know how long I’ve waited. Long till my Silver turned to Grey. And on moist mornings, when you thought the White replaced all. It was only me in hurry-scurry tucking away your Grey. Lest you find them.
I’ve seen you in colors. As Red melted into White crafting Pink, I’ve seen you softer. Tender. And as Sapphire blended into Black, I’ve feared you.
From darks to lights. I’ve seen you through each one of them. In colors. Or pallid. Of yesteryears and today.
And I’ve loved you through each one of them.
Through Rusted earth and fiery Gold.
In my own rustic way.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Friday, May 7, 2010
Na jaane kisi se kitni mohabbat karne ke baad kuch aise alfaaz janm lete honge. Na jaane kisi ko kitna paana hota hoga. Na jaane kisi ko kitna khona...
Aaj jaane ki zidd na karo
Yun hi pehlu mein baithe raho
Haaye mar jayenge
Hum toh loot jayenge
Aisi baatein kiya na karo
Tum hi socho zara kyun na roke tumhe
Jaan jaati hai jab uth-ke jaate ho tum
Tum ko apni kasam... jaane-jaan
Baat itni meri maan lo
Waqt ki kaid mein zindagi hai magar
Chand ghadiyaan yehin hain jo azaad hain
Inko kho kar mere... jaane-jaan
Umr bhar na taraste raho
Kitna masoom rangeen hain yeh sama
Husn aur ishq ki aaj mehraaj hai
Kal ki kisko khabar... jaanejaan
Rok lo aaj ki raat ko
Aaj jaane ki zidd na karo...
PS Farida Khanum makes it sound divine.
Aaj jaane ki zidd na karo
Yun hi pehlu mein baithe raho
Haaye mar jayenge
Hum toh loot jayenge
Aisi baatein kiya na karo
Tum hi socho zara kyun na roke tumhe
Jaan jaati hai jab uth-ke jaate ho tum
Tum ko apni kasam... jaane-jaan
Baat itni meri maan lo
Waqt ki kaid mein zindagi hai magar
Chand ghadiyaan yehin hain jo azaad hain
Inko kho kar mere... jaane-jaan
Umr bhar na taraste raho
Kitna masoom rangeen hain yeh sama
Husn aur ishq ki aaj mehraaj hai
Kal ki kisko khabar... jaanejaan
Rok lo aaj ki raat ko
Aaj jaane ki zidd na karo...
PS Farida Khanum makes it sound divine.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
It rained yesterday afternoon. For the second time this year. I was absolutely overjoyed. As soon as it turned grey and I heard the first growl of nature, I jumped out of my bed, put my Pamuk book down and pulled all the curtains. The cool rainy breeze hit my face. I closed my eyes. I love the feel of rain on my skin.
I got P the Lonely Planet’s guide to India for his birthday. It’s one must-have for anyone who loves traveling. Of all the things I want in life, I want to see at least 80% of what’s there in that book. Needless to say, with P. :D
I so envy those people who have these super cool travel blogs with amazing snaps of all the places they have traveled to. Every time I see these blogs, there is this intense desire to get there too. To feel what’s it like to actually be there. In those wonderful places. To touch. To see. To soak in every bit of the place. Of that moment.
In between all this, college is nearing its end. In a few more months under-grad college life will be over for me. And obviously that imminent question seems to be looming ahead of me as well. What next?
Well honestly speaking I am not absolutely clueless. I do know what I want. However, the enormity of the very question itself is scary. You know like when someone asks you what exactly you want out of life. Now, how is one supposed to answer that? How do you put all your wants, all your desires, your dreams into one concise answer? At least I don’t think I can. Aren’t all those wants, those dreams themselves sewn together to create the continuity of life? Like one stitched to the other to create your very own life…
There are so many things I want in my life. So many I cannot even begin to list. And I know all of them are not directly linked to my earning a degree, a job and eventually a social status.
As of now, I’m happy with the idea that I’ll soon be graduating. It feels good. Feels older. But good.
And yes, the rain brought with it these tiny ice-like particles too. I gobbled one of them. Just like that. It tasted like nature.
I got P the Lonely Planet’s guide to India for his birthday. It’s one must-have for anyone who loves traveling. Of all the things I want in life, I want to see at least 80% of what’s there in that book. Needless to say, with P. :D
I so envy those people who have these super cool travel blogs with amazing snaps of all the places they have traveled to. Every time I see these blogs, there is this intense desire to get there too. To feel what’s it like to actually be there. In those wonderful places. To touch. To see. To soak in every bit of the place. Of that moment.
In between all this, college is nearing its end. In a few more months under-grad college life will be over for me. And obviously that imminent question seems to be looming ahead of me as well. What next?
Well honestly speaking I am not absolutely clueless. I do know what I want. However, the enormity of the very question itself is scary. You know like when someone asks you what exactly you want out of life. Now, how is one supposed to answer that? How do you put all your wants, all your desires, your dreams into one concise answer? At least I don’t think I can. Aren’t all those wants, those dreams themselves sewn together to create the continuity of life? Like one stitched to the other to create your very own life…
There are so many things I want in my life. So many I cannot even begin to list. And I know all of them are not directly linked to my earning a degree, a job and eventually a social status.
As of now, I’m happy with the idea that I’ll soon be graduating. It feels good. Feels older. But good.
And yes, the rain brought with it these tiny ice-like particles too. I gobbled one of them. Just like that. It tasted like nature.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
More than words
I now know why I have not been able to put together anything for a while. Not a word. Not a sentence. Nothing.
Probably you’ll laugh at it. Probably you’ll nod just the way you do, with small tufts of hair falling on your forehead. Or maybe you’ll pull me close to you and say in your very characteristic manner,
“Girl you are crazy!”
But then it’s true you know. For I see no other reason.
Anyway, now that I’ve begun this, there are a few things I would like to tell you. You know when you leave me to be on my own for a while, while you sit down before me to make our coffee, I keep looking at you. At times, thinking but mostly for nothing at all.
And as you hold the coffee in between your palms and take in the aroma, I wonder…
‘Bout how this would all end.
You know how obsessive I am about conclusions. About closures.
Maybe you will wince. Or maybe you’ll ask me to shut up. But by closures I mean something else.
I know some things are never meant to end. They are forever. Yes, they are.
And so is this.
All I mean is the fulfillment of some desires. The answers to some questions. The conformity to an otherwise unknown destiny.
Actually, to put it simply...
The story of our lives. Yours and mine.
Probably, you think of it too at times. For I have often seen you looking at me when we are at a bookstore and you have an opened book in your hands. And when confronted, you safely choose to comment on my kohl or my ear-rings.
But then that’s just you.
You…
And your roses in that poetry book. They are safe with me. And they forever shall.
So now you know why I have not been able to put together any words of late.
I was only trying to write about you…
Probably you’ll laugh at it. Probably you’ll nod just the way you do, with small tufts of hair falling on your forehead. Or maybe you’ll pull me close to you and say in your very characteristic manner,
“Girl you are crazy!”
But then it’s true you know. For I see no other reason.
Anyway, now that I’ve begun this, there are a few things I would like to tell you. You know when you leave me to be on my own for a while, while you sit down before me to make our coffee, I keep looking at you. At times, thinking but mostly for nothing at all.
And as you hold the coffee in between your palms and take in the aroma, I wonder…
‘Bout how this would all end.
You know how obsessive I am about conclusions. About closures.
Maybe you will wince. Or maybe you’ll ask me to shut up. But by closures I mean something else.
I know some things are never meant to end. They are forever. Yes, they are.
And so is this.
All I mean is the fulfillment of some desires. The answers to some questions. The conformity to an otherwise unknown destiny.
Actually, to put it simply...
The story of our lives. Yours and mine.
Probably, you think of it too at times. For I have often seen you looking at me when we are at a bookstore and you have an opened book in your hands. And when confronted, you safely choose to comment on my kohl or my ear-rings.
But then that’s just you.
You…
And your roses in that poetry book. They are safe with me. And they forever shall.
So now you know why I have not been able to put together any words of late.
I was only trying to write about you…
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