Corrigendum

Was trying to raise my nose to a height where it was more 'breathable'. Armpits were strategically placed all around me in smelly splendour. Couldn't figure if the bus was really stuck in a traffic snarl or taking its own royal pace to wherever. The heat was blanching. And you could feel the tingling of the tiny streams that treacled down from everywhere.

It was one of those moments when you become truly conscious of your existence. And it struck me suddenly, that you always have a choice.

Whatever comes our way, whatever battle we have raging inside us, we always have a choice. It's the choices that make us who we are, and we can always choose to do what's right.

This realization only makes things harder for me. But I cannot possibly believe in something because it makes things easier. I must know things for what they are. I must.

Face to Face

Was looking for something in my desk when I stumbled upon my diary of 2003. Started flipping through the pages. And suddenly things that had long been nowhere were everywhere. And all the facades fell.

Tears swelled. I too had cheated him. Disregarded his reality. Made myself my own reality. A reality that is easier to use. Easier to live. Formulated theories to make the simple truth seem less apparent.

I swear I could not look him in the eye.

Love in times of Discontinuity

I am not high.


It has been cloudy since the morning. And gusts of wind sweep in surprising me sometimes. Almost. Like little children. Playing around in the puddled streets. So when you walk by looking at the streets you see parts of the earth at times and parts of the sky at others. As if everything has been torn and scattered around and bits of sky are lying around on the ground. Dark grey streets with smudges of a light grey sky.

And it has been raining playfully. Rather furtively, actually! It is one of those afternoons when I get all dreamy-eyed and stuff. Am listening to Nat King Cole. Love the piano notes that flow ever so softly...rising falling with the trumpets.

Made myself one large glass of coffee. Dark black coffee. Was sitting on my bed sipping coffee, listening to Nat King Cole and studying(yes!) Digital Electronics. And I have to admit that despite all my prejudices I cannot but help love the austere beauty of this subject! The continuous discontinuity. Each moment that stands on its own. Apart. Distinctively independent. Move away farther, and you begin to see the breathtakingly beautiful and harmonious pattern that these severely individual moments go on to create.

Loving each moment for what it is. Not trying to look back nor beyond. And still be in perfect harmony with your self. With the other 'you's from all the other moments.

No grey areas. Zero or One. Be or don't be. Love or don't. Cry or don't. No where in between.

I love myself.

This is NOT an Epiphany

There's no need for turning back
For all roads lead to where I stand
And I believe I've walked them all
No matter what I may have planned...

(Don McLean,Crossroads)

We live between conflicts. We are our conflicts. Choices that determine the person we are. Critical, hair-tearing, wool-shearing choices. Weighing of pros against cons. Intuitions. Or the lack of them. And then a choice is made. A choice we know will change our lives for ever. Every choice we've made was an irreversible shift towards the person we are today.

The pangs of the clustered could-have-beens. What-ifs? I-wish-I-hadn'ts. And nightmares of what-will-I-be thinking-of. Fear of the imminent fear. And fear of the fear of the imminent fear. And the carousel swirls around. Slowly. Rising. Falling. Going round. In circles.

When one day, you wake up to see that you have been living your nightmare. That it wasn't really what you thought it was. That nothing really matters. That nothing could really matter much.

There always was only one choice. The one that you chose. Now wait a minute. That means you never had a choice. You had to be what you are. All the other possible alternatives that you thought were, weren't. All the things you believed you could have been couldn't really have been. You merely had illusions of choices. Illusions that are the mother of all our conflicts. All dilemmas. Of all regrets.

Now that's interesting! So, what about all those nights when you scratched your head till the dandruff flakes were all over the place? See?

In this new light, when I come to think of decisions in life, it is a lot less taxing for me. Because I know that I have no choice but to choose the one I will. That all possibilities (except the one that will be) are impossibilties. That does mean you no longer seem to have the power that you believed you had on your life. But it takes away a lot of responsibilities (Yay, I love spiderman movies turned upside down).

Does it mean I believe in destiny? No. Because when you realise that you really can't be convicted for your choices, you can begin to enjoy your life as much as you want(and not as much as you are destined to enjoy, that is).

May I draw an analogy here(I am just being polite.Of course I will. This is MY frigging blog!). I always love band performances better than band competitions. When you are playing for a stage show, you know there is nothing you can win or lose here. So you really lose all your inhibitions and start giving it your best. Living in the moment. Absorbing the madness of the crowd all around you. Trying to give them back more than they would expect. Try to overwhelm them. And the joy of giving all you have without ever expecting anything back is immense. Of course you love it when the crowd starts singing along. But your action itself is its reward here. And everything else is bonus. All the more sweeter because you never expected it in the first place.

When we accept things for what they are, instead of trying to see what they could have been or can be, we free ourselves of all expectations. And start seeing the beauty in them. Start getting suprised by everything around us. It brings back the element of awe that we had once as a child.

Dear Leonard, to look life in the face, always to look life in the face and to know it for what it is. At last, to know it, to love it, for what it is and then to put it away. Leonard, always the years between us, always the years, always the love. Always the hours...

The Hours.

the fool chooses a God

O Fool, try to carry thyself upon thy own shoulders!
O beggar, to come beg at thy own door!
Leave all thy burdens on his hands who can bear all,
and never look behind in regret.
Thy desire at once puts out the light from the lamp it touches with its breath.
It is unholy---take not thy gifts through its unclean hands.
Accept only what is offered by sacred love.

(Gitanjali, Fool)


Don't care enough to not believe in God. And am not ready to take your word for it. If I were to choose my own God, the one that loved me enough to write for me a hundred years ago, the one I know has suffered the same pains that I have, smiled at the same world that I do, I would always choose you. You knew I would.

words

shundori chhayaar pane toru cheye thake
she taar apon tobu paye na tahake

All my life I have valued words. I have believed in the power of words. Believed that when 'words rise from the depth of truth' they hit the listener to rise to the speaker's reality. That words once uttered will live forever. Traveling through space and time. I have talked about the knowing smiles they throw at you. I was proud of the words that I wrote for you.



I didn't sleep yesterday. I was searching my words. Wiping the dust off them. Looking at them with the eyes of an old lady admiring her marriage crockery. The words that came to me. All the time. I would bring them out at the right time.



And I know better now. Words are a wretched burden. They are. Their sheer uselessness made me angry. Helplessly angry. And the thoughts stared. Like street dogs. When strangers walk by. The strangers wore glasses. And chains around their waists. And they looked around at the streets like the dogs weren't there. Like they did not count. They wagged their tails silently. Disappointed. Trying to draw attention. Like a three year old kid in a teenager's crucial para cricket match team. Unwanted. They wanted to curl their tails up and run away. And so they did.



And to think that I had known this all these years.

Un-post

:(









A little happy. A little sad. Tingling happy and feeling bad. I am a little mad. I am a little in love.









:)

Rain drops

The rain always sets me free. It reminds me of the raindrops. And how much we all are like raindrops. From the soft bed of the clouds they fall. Through the sky. Down. Down. Down.

I am a raindrop. And I fall. Every moment with a growing speed. I fall. For you. To you. On you. It's not the fall that I dread. It is like the inevitable. The unswerving and lone truth.

A raindrop can take a billion possible routes. To the ground.

I wish I could tell you that it was you I was thinking about last night. But then, you would never believe me. I don't blame you.

Who would believe a raindrop?