Moments that define you!

After every argument and disagreement, she asked herself, "Is it worth it?"

She was confused, scared and in doubt. All these emotions intensified several folds when she thought about the basis on which she hung on to them. For she was alone.She was rational to the core, she justified all her thoughts eventually. Dissecting every thought and bringing them down to absolute lucidity was a habit inherent in her.

Her people found her eccentric and complex, vague at times but when she came up with simple solutions at times they were just surprised. It never occurred to them that the things she spoke might be tried, tested or simply processed. So when she wanted some clarity, she was either left alone or given abrupt comments.

Now here she was in this particular situation which was totally crazy according to everyone around her. Maybe it was. She considered it. She had questioned it while it came bang into her life, she had questioned it when it started seeping in into her life, she had questioned it when it made her miserable, she questioned it when it made her go maddeningly happy. All through it she never forgot to feel and enjoy while crucifying it to sensibilities. Despite what people said, things made sense to her. Her instincts stood by her as guardians through the loneliness.

She asked herself again, "Is it worth it?" a millionth time and she knew instantly that -Yes! It is and was all the while.

Busted Bubbles

He: What do u want of me?
She: I want you to work, sort your life, do something for god sake!
He: For now I am going out of country, will do something when I get back.
She: When are you going?
He: The day after tomorrow
Shock, silence
She: Where?
He: Spain
(Good Lord)
She: When will u come back?
He: I don't know
She: What the hell (Fumes, tries to sound calm) Ok......How did you manage this?
He: Magic, jackpot......m blessed you know
She: (Confused, angry)Ya right!So much for believing that "I" am the God's Child!
He: Its ok, maybe you are
She: (Perplexed) I feel so cheated, scared and rotten. Not by you but by everything that I believed to be true, by everything I hung on to. Why?
He: Look I got to go, I will call you back alright. Bye
She: (Speechless, empty, blank)

This is called a "Decent" conversation: By someone I know.

Brain Gone Bonkers

Friday: Bored to death with nothing to do

Saturday: Cleaning, chilling, watching weird bollywood flicks 

Sunday: Running around doing all the trivial things like stitching, talking, learning to cook and attending a vanity fair

Monday: Work BELOVED work finally!

Result: Splitting headache by the end of first 3 days. And a weird kind of headache brewing on the end of 4th day due to excess drama and brain drain.

Excess drama: Mother allows lazing around : Woohoo miracle

                         Best friend gets a job : Super happy

                         A bomber out of nowhere: Shocked beyond wits

                         Work gets approved: Surprised

                        

Now how much can a small brain possibly take?

Boredom kills, boredom makes me run, boredom makes me hide and anything otherwise makes me think. Now thinking is good but when I have to, it comes with so much profundity that my brain just snaps and goes bonkers. 

Conclusion:All I can say is I prefer this unpredictability over predictability, I prefer shock over eternal knowledge and I prefer this lingering headache that crops up out of drama than the one out of boredom. 

Hopeless hope

I am a creep magnet,
Tall and lean,
With a smile on  my face
And a smirk on my mind,
Everytime I meet a creep
I wish "this one is sane",
And bang goes the mask
and snap goes the face.

PS: " I am a tea pot." has been ringing in my mind for whole day long and this is what I come up with! Idle mind forced to work :(

Boulevard of my Memoirs

Walking down that long and lonely path in the evenings, I have pondered, wondered,envisaged, sulked and dreamed. I have fretted about my family, thought about my friends and analysed people-known and unknown alike. This path with a few ups and downs, trees lined on both sides of the road, the smell of the wild weed enriching the air, auto rickshaws wheezing by once a while and the horse carts tottering away has been my dearest companion during the loneliest years of my life. This is my path from my home that leads to the Titwala Temple.

Right from my school days, I had developed this habit of walking till the temple and back in the evenings when I was too bored and had no one to play with. Walking alone was specially fun as no one disturbed me and I could go on my dream weaving mode without any hassle. When I got my brand new cycle, a ride to the temple and back became an obsession. Making that ride within a certain time limit was something I did just to make myself happy. As I grew up, with numerous classes and loads of homework to be dealt with, cycling stopped, these walks became infrequent but they were still there when I was too bugged with books, teachers and my mom's blabbering on grades and a fantastic "career".

Once I finished school, we moved to Mulund to get closer to my educational institutions and my parent's work place and save precious time on travel. Our beloved "home" was still there and my granny had moved in . This place now became my weekend abode with me rushing there every Friday night or Saturday mornings to get back on Sundays. My craze for fiction had grown into full bloom by the time I finished school and had entered college. So getting away to a silent place and read in peace for two days was a luxury I enjoyed which I had not known then. My granny was a sweetheart when it came to my reading. She never bothered me and left me alone as far as I got up early, ate on time and answered her timely queries.

With books, granny and good food, this path had a way of pulling me back to it. Invariably, I used to walk at least once through this place when I was there. Fromm school to college and out, my thoughts had evolved to more distinct visions , I could distinguish between the need to unwind my thoughts, delearn the teachings of my elders, parents and friends, sulking and plain dreaming. This place had become an inseparable part of my life when it came to de stressing my over worked mind. I remember giving myself pep talks just before exams, wondering what would happen to my life and soothing my ruffled feathers on this road while getting intoxicated with the smell of the weed.

The journey of a young girl who was scared of the world, of people around her, of anything and everything new to a woman who fell in love with similar lonely paths, learnt to be social, dared to be alone but never lonely and who dreams to explore the world and back was taken in this lovely boulevard. I still have my home, but with my granny no more, my visits to this beloved place has reduced to a great extent. From everyday to every weekend,to once a month,it has not come down to once a year or lesser.

This memoir is a result of my visit to this place two days back. The walk (not alone this time) made me realize how special and how important those moments were to me - the time spent with myself. I am not sure if I want those days back but I sure would love to walk down my memory lane once in a while, relive my moments and cherish them. Yes, this path has changed over time in its look and feel and so have I but I guess every time I take this route, it would be the path I "took" that I would remember than the changes that I should  probably notice. 

Woman As I Know

Through silence she speaks volumes,

Through her smile she melts ice,

Her laughter creates ripples amongst hearts alike,

Head held high, she balances her heart and mind,

She will stand by you just to be there,

Do not undermine her willingness to listen and understand,

For her patience and tolerance are the unyielding companions of her love.

Adore her; love her for what she is and who she is,

For she represents every color of life and every ray of light through darkness.

This is the spirit of woman I have known and am proud of!

Happy Woman’s Day to all my ladies!

Creatively challenged!

I have no idea how I got into this in the first place! With my life full of brilliantly creative people, I have always realized that creativity is not my forte. Ask for ideas and I go brain dead - straight! Ask me to think about colors, ask me to "create" something beautiful and I am in a deep lurch.I can appreciate beauty in every form, I know that but creating it is not something I find it within my limits.

Writing is something I always liked, mingling and playing with words just for fun and learning new ways of expressions. I like to express through words.It was something very difficult to do when I started using it as a tool of expression but now they have become "my" way of expression.  I am working on the skills of simplifying things yet give my words a refined touch. It is a long journey and I m sure the path ahead would be fun so long as writing is just writing and not a form of art.
What irks me every now and then is that  after making writing as my source of income, I don't see myself doing what I wanted to. I write, it gets rehashed and the whole thing goes down the drain. It is always more than one mind corrupting the original thought. I write but I don't get to play with words. With millions of restrictions and compliances set as criteria for approval and a number of brains working on it at the same time, the idea or the sense of expression is lost somewhere.
I was told I am a conditioned writer and that I need to explore my dimensions. Well first I need to figure out if writing is something I need to continue for a living, then I need to know what kind of writing I need to get into and then finally on the Hows and whats of it. So what started off as a simple passion went on to become my bread and butter and now finally into a profound confusion - again!  So I seem to be creatively challenged with "writing" as a form of art as well.