Friday, April 27, 2007

.......Stumped

The traffic is crawling in contrast to the peppy rhythm of that Bollywood tune blasting out of the radio. The car seems slower than a snail and the air is heavy with tinges of gasoline and vapour.

I am bemused at the honkers and the little kids trying to sell their wares amidst this cacophony. I have been intently staring out of the window…deliberately avoiding conversation. I feel angry…terribly angry and maybe even let down.

The master of the house has decided…he has to attend that silly charade to please the higher ups and ensure nothing goes wrong with his stellar career…. while feasting on visuals of skimpily clad bimbos from his office and their offshoots across India. The agenda of this do…nothing but partying and so-called training (for what and in what I don’t want to speculate…but there it is managing to make everything seem so official and desirable)

Reason asks me if I shouldn’t merely let go…considering nothing in this world can be saved my mere paranoia or fear or concentrated thinking by one. I have my fears…my insecurities…and I have absolutely justifiable and valid reasons for all of them…. unfortunately everyone seems to think its silly to impose my quirks on someone else and suffocate them too….

How else does one find redemption…do you allow yourself to be continually sucked into the vortex of fear, abandonment, jealousy, insecurity and a lot of other meshed up shit? Or do you find someone who understands and hankers along without triggering another panic attack? Or do you bury them so deep they can’t surface at all? Or do you put on an act every so often sometimes you forget what reality is?

The world warned me against straying into such a situation…. they pleaded continuously asking me to stay single in order to deal with my demons and allow myself justice and sanity. As always I didn’t comprehend then…and I disobeyed. Now I am beginning to pay the price.

When everything above your chin is completely screwed up and enmeshed in crap…the best option is to isolate yourself and deal with the nonsense one by one. Or even assuming you cant deal with them…the solitude will offer suggestions and solutions…. when in a pairing…. the vapour thickens…clarity eludes…you subvert the issues to ensure peace and longevity…but where does that leave you?

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

To Borrow Celine Dion's words...

I always loved this song more than the Titanic track for the sheer beauty of the lyrics. This one's for you Bali....


For all those times you stood by me
For all the truth that you made me see
For all the joy you brought to my life
For all the wrong that you made right
For every dream you made come true
For all the love I found in you
Ill be forever thankful baby
You're the one who held me up
Never let me fall
You're the one who saw me through through it all

You were my strength when I was weak
You were my voice when I couldn't speak
You were my eyes when I couldn't see
You saw the best there was in me
Lifted me up when I couldn't reach
You gave me faith coz you believed
I'm everything I am
Because you loved me

You gave me wings and made me fly
You touched my hand I could touch the sky
I lost my faith, you gave it back to me
You said no star was out of reach
You stood by me and I stood tall
I had your love I had it all
I'm grateful for each day you gave me
Maybe I don't know that much
But I know this much is true
I was blessed because I was loved by you

You were my strength when I was weak
You were my voice when I couldn't speak
You were my eyes when I couldn't see
You saw the best there was in me
Lifted me up when I couldn't reach
You gave me faith coz you believed
I'm everything I am
Because you loved me

You were always there for me
The tender wind that carried me
A light in the dark shining your love into my life
You've been my inspiration
Through the lies you were the truth
My world is a better place because of you

You were my strength when I was weak
You were my voice when I couldn't speak
You were my eyes when I couldn't see
You saw the best there was in me
Lifted me up when I couldn't reach
You gave me faith coz you believed
I'm everything I am
Because you loved me

You were my strength when I was weak
You were my voice when I couldn't speak
You were my eyes when I couldn't see
You saw the best there was in me
Lifted me up when I couldn't reach
You gave me faith coz you believed
I'm everything I am
Because you loved me

I know we'll pass the test of time.

I’m straddling moments of lucidity and near deafness. The pain is irritatingly numbing. I have always chided myself for getting into these spots with my eyes wide open and yet once again I am exactly there.

I have descended from the mountains…where we sat watching the stars, sipping on rum and freezing beneath our woolens. Amidst the hillocks of Mussoorie we regained moments of innocent love we had relinquished in favour of maddeningly silly and materialistic corporate lives.

The silence was absolutely rejuvenating. The smiles, the cuddles, the sleeping ins, the panting sighs and grumbles as we navigated one slope after another, the gulps of water and the gasps for air, the silly laughter, the benumbing TV shows to kill the time in between when conversation had left our tongues dry, the Tibetan flat noodles, the nicely flavoured chilly momos, the sprinkly and warming alcohol, the hot air emitting heater by our feet, the small shawl beneath which both of us tried hard to hide, the yellow blossoms on our balcony, the naughty apes playing on the other side of the window panes, the green valley spread beneath our legs, the chilly air that made us cling close not allowing even a hair’s breadth between us, and so much much more…

The trip away from humanity and everybody was a welcome break. We renewed our beliefs, our love, our promises, our tears, our passion and lots more.

One year under our belt…we promised to forge ahead come what may. And vowed never to let go even if the going got so tough we couldn’t bear it anymore.

I wanted to print this on something and hand it over to him…. but I bought a cosmetic card from Archie’s.

Here is what I wanted to tell you…. corny though it may seem….

“I didn't think that I could love you more than I did a year ago.But little did I know that in sharing my hopes and dreams with you, my love for you would grow.Bali, I'm so thankful for your love and all the joy it brings.For better or worse, through thick and thin, you've been there by my side, sharing the laughter and the tears, through life's uncertain ride.
You are so much a part of me; I know we'll pass the test of time.Hand-in-hand I'll walk through life with you for your hand was made to fit perfectly in mine.”

Monday, April 16, 2007

Taking stock

There is a sense of loss filling me up…even as the smiles cling to my skin I wonder where this phase is headed.

I know deep within that this might make or break the next leg of my professional career and even as I navigate potholes with the dexterity of an F1 driver, something in me cries out at this injustice.

All the moves can be dated back to the fights I had…the numerous arguments fighting for my worth and for justice…for promises made to me that were forgotten…for mistakes I didn’t commit and was forced to take the blame for…against egos that could not take the anger and resilience in a voice that refused to shut off….

Those have blotted my career like none else…Everytime I was passed over for a more mediocre yet more accomplished “sucker” I watched from the sidelines…holding on to shards of confidence that warned of slipping away.

I never learnt the art of tact, diplomacy or mere networking or hob-nobbing with the powers that be. I have always believed (still do) that my work alone should speak for itself…and hence the many coffees and dinners I turned down and the many smiles I refused to flash earned me nothing but wrath and anger.

The people of the world were never my concern and hence I could not sympathize or empathize with those that deserved not a second’s attention.

And it has left me way behind in the race for recognition. And each time a face from my times, stares back at me from the TV screen or otherwise, while furiously climbing the ladders of success something in me dies. The belief that maybe mere mediocrity, and sometimes even things way beneath that coupled with sheer people skills could take a person to the echelon of success has made dents in my brain and many other places.

The anger and hatred I feel at these silly fools is so immense I refuse to take stock for fear of it consuming me. But then again I cannot but turn a blind eye to those who stare back while I fight for what is rightfully mine. Maybe I should have been amoral, dishonest, a pseudo who could sweet-talk the pants off anyone. Alas that one eludes me like the plague.

I sure don’t deserve this. The result of working hard, giving away my better years, my life in a sense…of being scrupulous and simply honest.

And today taking stock just prior to entering my 28th year, I wonder if I weren’t equipped at all for all the better things in life and for the success I thought was due me!

Thursday, April 12, 2007

For a mad GOODU!

"Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born." Anais Nin

She is crazy…a supposedly mature teenager in the garb of a middle aged woman. Shaking her snaky hair free, she giggles and talks like a mad hatter and bursts into insane laughter at the innocuous language she has invented!

She was “suggested” to me by someone close. And she turned out to be the best thing that has happened to me in a long time to come and that too of the same gender!

The weird thing is the many experiences in isolation that we share…and the fact that despite the gaping years we have managed to find so many levels of similarity. The many quirks we share too make me laugh. Who would have thought in this creepy land of computers and wannabes there would be one soul who still loved old books, the smell of bread and the scary greens she gorges on like a cow.

My husband wonders at this new found proximity and togetherness. He had been amused at the fact that I kept only males for company. This is a pleasant surprise alright but he wonders at the constant need and actual comfort we derive from each other.

Our world is one of inanities, stupid jokes, shared pain, misunderstood anguish, unchanneled anger and worry, deep seated fear of losing control, of being swarmed by these stupidities enough to want to bail out, of silly chatter, or sniggering comments about unknown and known souls, of steaming cuppas, crunchy beetroot filled cutlets, so many childish pleasures, chocolates, saris, tantrums, jealousy, and what not….

Her glasses perched on her nose, her stiff saris, her matching accessories, her aching hands, her sparkling diamonds, her little bindi, her aching belly (courtesy crunches to lose the flab), and her vulgar white-capped phone. She makes me smile, comes running every time I need her and listens when I tell her silly pains that make me want to run away. She feeds me, worries and obsesses about me (or so I presume), and eggs me on Every time I am down!

I so adore this mad lady…. I am really grateful for that one phone call from Delhi that directed her in to my world!

Dr Shrinkari, I am not letting you go come what may!

Friday, April 06, 2007

Reliving the Past!

I keep hearing that noise from deep within…I am yet to ascertain what it could mean or be. I am confused. I know there are those you want to stay on with you for life, despite all your efforts to push them into the farthest recess in your being…but would that be one of them calling out to me?

And then there is this soul I have been calling out to in every language I could conceive. But it evades me like the plague. Glorified payback I believe. Not unwarranted either. But penance seems no good an answer.

That one dissenting voice I would give the world to hear cackle in my ear…. the wisps of breath that punctuate that conversation so lost in the clouds…the little pats that I imagine every time he laughs at my achievements…the sweet nothings that I wish would dot the night instead of mere shiny stars…

Flashes from the past…barely enough to kill a lifetime. Infernal longing to rewrite the equation…to relive the past…to undo the horrendous impetuous mistakes and regain the laughter.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

Of Arts & Farts!

He kept fingering his well rolled and set curls…it was pissing me off. This arty farty old man…with his rudraksha beads and bulging waist with even bigger pockets and a bag large enough to hold him within, supposedly to scare off the less intellectual kinds…. his unkempt beard was another turn off…I was maintaining a stoic silence so as not to upset the delicate balance between them. She had forced me into this…and now she sat trying to make polite conversation with this man I wanted to tell off…trying so hard to hold on to his smoke even as he fidgeted with the empty pack looking around for a lighter in all those deep pockets of assumed wisdom and literature.

He liked to keep his cards close to his chest for fear his literary knowledge might fly away with a stray one…like his tousled locks and his brain was playing havoc with his visuals. He was looking for scarlet-o-hara amongst his umpteen messages saved to again strengthen the façade he had built around him. The point being, what use are these pitiable graspers of literature? I mean, no harm in having a well read and intelligent soul around you? Why does it necessitate a particular physical feel to be intelligent or even artistic? Why is it that the world assumes a normal person cannot get into the skin of a character while reading or creating it simply for the lack of disheveled locks, an untidy room and smelly feet?

These archaic myths have turned into a mockery the decent soul’s yearning for genuine knowledge. For one, if only people would refrain from imposing a certain eccentricity on someone who loves word play, we might be closer to actually enjoying the nuances of the language, which is not necessarily exclusive to “those quite not there”. The worst part they are the most hurt souls this side of the Atlantic if one were to freely offer them a reality check…then you shall fry in the fires of hell for having questioned the credentials of so simple and pure a literary soul!

I hate such pretentious buggers who assume an aura of intelligence merely courtesy their appearance. I hate hypocrites and those who plead to be categorized different. If you are more than just your clothes, your stench and your unkempt look should play testimony. Rest should be up there hidden from public view…for you and the creator alone to enjoy and muddle over.

Keep him away from me for the next time my tongue shall not obey my bodily commands. And he wont like spittle on his well curved locks…

Tch tch.

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

Cranky Dilemma

The silence is reverberating. There have been random moments when I have been forced to wonder if this is not punishment for my own stubbornness? After all I chose the least trodden path, decided to brave it out with fewer friends than fingers on a hand. And to look back and complain will not help solve the problem.

For some years now, I have been languishing with the bare minimum of friends. Not that the need for multiples was not there, just that finding those that fitted the bill was impossible. Which made things kind of stagnate on certain fronts. The essence of any relationship is the way it can evolve to become something more fresh and interesting with the passage of time. And the minute it recedes into the past, we have to reinvent the whole damn thing to make it appealing at least in one aspect.

I am facing a cranky dilemma now. I have certain clogs I need to unearth, but that will then leave me with fewer than I started out with…which is inherently unhealthy and unwise. So then do I turn a blind eye or a deaf ear to these glaring mishaps? I am really in need of divine intervention at this moment. And that seems to be lacking too.

Has everyone abandoned me to my miserable fate? Christ it is definitely scary.