Hope..

Hope..

Monday, February 27, 2006

through the transition.....

Had been thinking for a long time to write about this..about the transition in my life brought about by the significant event called “marriage”. I call it an event and more correctly “an event of the year” if not century, considering the ups and downs we’ve had.

Three postponements gave us a long courtship period which according to my sis was wonderful because it gave me an opportunity of what she calls as “licensed flirting”. As for me , I would have been more appreciative had I known that this would be diluted considerably post-wedding.

Two months of married life so to speak, but the idea will perhaps take a little more time to sink in….perhaps not till I “actually” begin my married life, and the two months of hostel life will give me the much needed time.

In short, its difficult. From being the eldest in my maiden family to being the youngest in the new one….is an interesting experience altogether. So from being called “didi” to becoming a “dadi” and “nani” – the transition was sort of overnight.It was so cute the way my nephews and nieces would call me “didi” instead of auntie because I looked young. Large families have their own advantage – you have a lot more people to love and pamper you, specially when you are the youngest.

From being absolutely wary of animals, specially dogs to becoming a dog-lover comes naturally from being married to a person who is an ardent animal-lover. Afterall, had I not been prepared to live with twelve stray dogs from day one. It feels wonderful to be married to a man who people say is “not so ordinary” at all. But then it does make me feel quite small at times…..quite imperfect most of the times. Afterall till date I haven’t been able to figure out anything at which I could be better than him. Its impossible to be better than perfect. Nevertheless, I’m gonna keep trying…

The skepticism and apprehensions – “would I still be accepted by my friends? Will I change? Will marriage change the way I think?”
Constant anxiety…..if I’ll turn into those “auntie-types” who have nothing better to talk about but dresses, jewellery, make-up, “saas-bahu” stories and other never-ending useless non-productive banter that we constantly and very commonly come across….in short, the typical “kitty-party” talks.
Thanks to meera, for being patient with all these questions of mine….and bearing with my constant enquiries about the degrees of change that she has seen in me, telling me if they are positive ones or not and assuring me that I still am a part of the “sane” community. Hope to maintain my originality…..and hope you’ll be there in future too my princess !

MUSINGS…. RIGHT UNDER THE TEACHER’S NOSE…..

There are times (and more often than not) when I’ve felt that we (as in Meera and me) start thinking from where the others stop. So in terms of planes of thought compared to the people that we are living with, we consider ourselves slightly “elite”.
And then to think that all our “profound” thoughts and ideas are not so profound afterall…’cos there are people at a still higher plane. But then experience counts. So probably with as much exposure and experience in life, we could have ben much the same or who-knows, better perhaps J
So I’d rather believe that we are still ahead of our times !
The ones who’ve reached the pinnacle of perfection at the top have stopped, but we are still through an ongoing process – a far desirable state so to speak. We are progressing – stumbling along the way, but still progressing nonetheless.

Probably this is why we dismiss most of our class lectures as useless and frivolous. Afterall, do they ever have anything to offer except of course the theoretical concepts?
Anyone can read them and even understand far better perhaps. Why then do we waste our time listening to the innumerable painful lectures?
We have a valid reason – simply for the count of attendance frankly. Also ‘coz the “freaks” like us would otherwise never bother to even try to understand the theoretical concepts which anyways are useless in the future.

We have with us people whom we call fools….fools who waste their time behind those fat heavy books, mugging away at all possible places that you can think of – mess-hall, stairs, corridors. And freaks like us ,who’d rather enjoy the star-studded night sky and the cool breeze on the terrace, sharing more profound ideas that those books would not even care about !
I might sound snobbish, but do I care? Nah .

One virtue that we can boast of –“persistence” or rather “steadfastness”.
Two years of “rigorous tutoring” failed to change / transform us into “more earnest” fools from the “one-night genius’” freaks that we are.
Honestly, living like freaks is a lot more fun than wasting ourselves like those fools. But nevertheless, it is frustrating to be stuck in a place which has more of fools and just or exactly a handful of freaks. So keeping our originality intact amidst this vast majority, not letting them “contaminate” our pure, innovative and “kachhra-less” minds has been a Herculean task.
Kudos to us !
So Meera, aren’t we proud to be “we”?

Friday, February 24, 2006

..things fall apart...

……there are times when you feel that the lines hold so true –
“things fall apart
the center cannot hold..”

she saw her whole world crumbling down, disintegrating slowly – slowly turning into naught – diminishing into nothingness…..
something that was her life…..the next moment it wasn’t, and then again it was, and then again…will it be?
Was there an escape, a respite, a relief, a way out of the vicious cycle?
How and where did it go wrong?

The foundation was strong, the edifice absolutely firm. She decided to build up on it herself, picking one brick at a time, one by one, laying them – but unfortunately all out of alignment. One after the other she kept arranging them wrong – how and why?
What she thought was right wasn’t so anymore.
The sense of despair kept setting in. she knew very soon it would be time when the structure would come down….the bricks would not be able to hold the wall together, but give way. Actually very soon there would be no wall at all.
The foundation would surely remain, of course but would there be a second chance to build up on it, again?
Only if I could tell her, help her, rescue her..I wish I could tell her to be strong enough to get out of the “damsel in distress” frame, waiting still for her knight in shining armour to come and save her.
I wish I could explain the need to get out of her dreamland, the beautiful fantastical world in her mind, and learn to face the real world herself.
I wish I could make her believe that she was still alive !!

Only if wishes grew on trees….

She wanted lots and lots of flowers , lots of them to cheer her up, lots of bright ones to add colour to her life…….
……and there were no florists, no gardens, no flowers !

Wanted lots and lots of chocolates, those that melt beautifully and deliciously in the mouth, wanted to savour the wonderful taste, the smooth melting flavour……
…….and not a penny had she in her purse !

Wanted to read, read a lot, all those wonderful books out on the shelves….with those colourful beautiful attractive covers…..the classics, the fantastical, the romantic, the thrillers…..all of them….and more and more and still more…..
……and realized she couldn’t understand the language anymore !

Wanted lots and lots of love, lots and lots of joy, lots of wonderful friends, lots of people who’d care for her and pamper her. Wanted perfect happiness, peace and satisfaction….
……no one could tell her where one could get them!

She wanted to give it back to the people, slap them, hit them hard, punish them for affecting her life……and..
……her hands refused to move.
She tried to glare at them, scare them off with a stern look…and…
……she stared back at her own face – grinning back at her, shamelessly and hopelessly.

Melanie and her Doll

She had a beautiful doll. She loved her dearly – as the most precious possession of her life.
One day she wanted to love her…hugged her, held her so tight that she couldn’t breathe……
…..so tight that her love killed her.


One day someone else touched the doll. Melanie couldn’t bear it – she went to clean her…..cleanse her of all the memory of “that touch”. She rubbed her, scrubbed her hard, bruised her and……
…..and killed her.


The doll had been lamenting being separated from her loved ones at the shop – from those that were like her. She mourned, and starved for a long time.
Melanie fed her – overstuffed her and kept stuffing wonderful things in till…..
……till it killed her.

just meh...

People say happiness is a state of mind.
I live in a different country or world altogether it seems..!!

Monday, February 20, 2006

suicide justified....

There are a number of ways of committing suicide.Killing one’s body is going against the wishes of God,an insult to His creation.But killing one’s soul and living a lifeless life is worse still perhaps. i wasn't wrong perhaps....

Analogies....how true !

Love is much like a dam: if you allow a tiny crack to for through which only a trickle of water can pass,that trickle will quickly bring down the whole structure, and soon no one will be able to control the force of the current. For when those walls come down, then love takes over, and it no longer matters what is possible and what is not, it doesn’t even matter whether we can keep the loved one at our side. To love is to lose control. “Love is a trap.” We see only its light when it appears, not its shadows. Being in love ……….. is like narcotic.At first it brings the euphoria of surrender.The next day you want more. You are not addicted yet,but you like the sensation,and you think you can still control things.You think about the person you love for two minutes, and forget them for two hours. But then you get used to that person and you begin to be completely dependent on them.Now you think about him for three hours and forget him for two minutes.

Sunday, February 19, 2006

More of Coelho's wisdom....

True love is an act of total surrender.
Sooner or later, we have to overcome our fears, because spiritual experience can be had only through the daily experience of love.
Coelho says that in real life, love has to be possible. Even if it is not returned right away, love can only survive when the hope exists that you will be able to win over the person you desire.
Anything else is fantasy.

The wise are wise only because they love.And the foolish are foolish only because they think they can understand love.
Lovers need to know how to lose themselves and then how to find themselves again.

The wiser me...

Life’s not abt the number of times we breathe, but about the moments that take our breath away.
Afetrall, its quality that matters and not the quantity.
Kudos to me for finaly realizing this !

From Coelho's "By the river Piedra i sat down and wept"

A Spanish missionary was visiting an island when he came across three Aztec priests. “How do you pray?” the missionary asked. “We have only one prayer,” answered one of the three Aztecs. “We say,’God you are three,we are three. Have pity on us.” “A beautiful prayer,” said the missionary.”But it is not what exactly the one that God heeds.I’m going to teach you one that’s much better.” The Padre taught them a Catholic prayer and then continued on his path of evangelism.Years later, when he was returning to Spain, his ship stood again at the island.From the deck, the missionary saw the three priests on the shore and waved to them. Just then, the three men began to walk across the water toward him. “Padre! Padre !” one of them called , approaching the ship. “Teach us again that prayer that God heeds. We’ve forgotten how it goes.” “It doesn’t matter,” responded the missionary,witnessing the miracle. And he promptly asked God’s forgiveness for failing to recognize that He speaks all languages. The story illustrates the fact that rarely do we realize that we are in the midst of the extraordinary.Miracles occur all around us, signs from God show us the way, angels plead to be heard, but we pay little attention to them because we are taught that we must follow certain formulas and rules if we want to find God. We do not recognize that God is wherever we allow Him/Her to enter. Traditional religious practices are important, they allow us to share with others the communal experience of adoration and prayer. But we must never forget that spiritual experience is above all a practical experience of love. And with love, there are no rules The heart decides , and what it decides is all that really matters. All of us have had this experience. At some point, we have each said through our tears,”I’m suffering for a love that’s not worth it”.We suffer because our love is going unrecognized.We suffer because we are unable to impose our own rules. But ultimately there is no good reason for our suffering, for in every love lies the seed of growth. The more we love, the closer we come to spiritual experience.Those who are truly enlightened, those whose souls are illuminated by love, have been able to overcome all of the inhibitions and preconceptions of the era. They have been joyful – because those who love conquer the world and have no fear of loss.