The day ends, the journey concludes
My heart still beats with the myriad hues
My mind dwells in memories past
The friends that were, the friends that are
The night descends, with promises in pockets
I wander a little, my thoughts astray
The questions slowly give way to calm
My walk is not aimless, my steps are firm
The journey untold has just begun.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Monday, April 13, 2009
10 Travel Faux Pas
1. Requesting the ground staff to give you a 'nice' seat, attempting to explain the word 'nice' by contrasting it with the few lecherous inhabitants of my city,particularly like the one in front of me in the check in queue, only turning up in the aircraft to find out that you are sitting next to the very definition of 'not-nice' spilling onto the next seat, but who turns out to be quite harmless in the end.
2. Wearing slim fit jeans so that someone who can ordinarily sit quite comfortably in the most uncomfortable seat in the history of all uncomfortable seats EVER, has to squirm and fidget every five nano seconds.
3. Traveling without a perfume strung below your nose to ward away drafts of fart smell from a co-passenger.
4. Looking forward to an airplane meal only to discover that the meal was just a good looking substance perhaps a hybrid of stones and sawdust.
5. Stuffing twenty books in your backpack to make your suitcase lighter only to realize the precious worth of your fragile vertebrate.
6. Not wearing socks and having your feet break off from your body once frozen, when the aircraft crew thought it would be prudent to simulate arctic temperatures.
7. Waiting out the queues while boarding and feeling witty only to realize that the overhead compartments are all full leaving you looking perplexed and burdened.
8. Writing THIS when the plane is about to land and being told to bugger off with the diary and pen however only a tad more politely.( They can't expect me to jump off now, lets get real)
9. Using the washroom right after someone has spent an enlightening hour clearing their bowel.
10. Spending the entire five hours of the flight whiling away precious night hours with silly activities like day dreaming.
2. Wearing slim fit jeans so that someone who can ordinarily sit quite comfortably in the most uncomfortable seat in the history of all uncomfortable seats EVER, has to squirm and fidget every five nano seconds.
3. Traveling without a perfume strung below your nose to ward away drafts of fart smell from a co-passenger.
4. Looking forward to an airplane meal only to discover that the meal was just a good looking substance perhaps a hybrid of stones and sawdust.
5. Stuffing twenty books in your backpack to make your suitcase lighter only to realize the precious worth of your fragile vertebrate.
6. Not wearing socks and having your feet break off from your body once frozen, when the aircraft crew thought it would be prudent to simulate arctic temperatures.
7. Waiting out the queues while boarding and feeling witty only to realize that the overhead compartments are all full leaving you looking perplexed and burdened.
8. Writing THIS when the plane is about to land and being told to bugger off with the diary and pen however only a tad more politely.( They can't expect me to jump off now, lets get real)
9. Using the washroom right after someone has spent an enlightening hour clearing their bowel.
10. Spending the entire five hours of the flight whiling away precious night hours with silly activities like day dreaming.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
If I were born in Delhi again, I'd like to be a man please, Here is why: ( Yes, I believe I just went a step down on the Women’s lib)
1. I would be able get drunk at a bar all by myself without harboring tortuous thoughts of sordid and lecherous men coming my way to beat me up and/or pass lewd remarks.
2. I would be able to drive at 1 am at night with the windows rolled down-enjoying the tranquility of the night, and appreciating the width of the roads without having to worry about heart palpitations at the sight of a car nearing mine.
3. I would be able wear shorts in the sweltering heat without thinking 49 times about the repercussions of that minuscule decision.
4. I would be able to take a walk at leisure without having to look behind my back.
5. I would be able to stop the car and relieve myself on the road. (Not really sure if I’d do that though, but it makes for a valid argument)
6. I would be able date ten people at the same time and still be the epitome of morality.
7. I would be able to go to Nehru Place feeling non-descript even if I looked like Hugh Jackman.
8. I would actually be able to act on capricious cravings for chocolate-chip ice cream at 2 am.
9. I would be able travel in DTC at 10 pm and befriend the listless conductor.
10. I would be able to embark on a sightseeing adventure to parts of old Delhi with just a camera in tow.
2. I would be able to drive at 1 am at night with the windows rolled down-enjoying the tranquility of the night, and appreciating the width of the roads without having to worry about heart palpitations at the sight of a car nearing mine.
3. I would be able wear shorts in the sweltering heat without thinking 49 times about the repercussions of that minuscule decision.
4. I would be able to take a walk at leisure without having to look behind my back.
5. I would be able to stop the car and relieve myself on the road. (Not really sure if I’d do that though, but it makes for a valid argument)
6. I would be able date ten people at the same time and still be the epitome of morality.
7. I would be able to go to Nehru Place feeling non-descript even if I looked like Hugh Jackman.
8. I would actually be able to act on capricious cravings for chocolate-chip ice cream at 2 am.
9. I would be able travel in DTC at 10 pm and befriend the listless conductor.
10. I would be able to embark on a sightseeing adventure to parts of old Delhi with just a camera in tow.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
What's Your Story?
If I ask you today, ‘what is you story?’ Your answer would probably be a nonchalant shrug followed by a hackneyed “the usual”. If you ask me the same question I’d say the same albeit semantic differences. Now let’s dig deeper…is that really true?
Everyone has a grand plan, a blueprint of sorts. Some make one for themselves; some have it partly drafted for them…by life. And all through we try to ensure that we live according to those charted out plans. Illustration#1 to prove point: Finish School-College of Choice-Work/Another Degree-Marriage-Kids-Work-Blah-Blah. And then that becomes our story.
But is that really our story?
Whatever billions of people humanity has managed to produced, it has taken pride in compartmentalizing each of those billions into these rigid silos. As time progresses, the number of silos will start to dwindle until an age dawns (in the near 3020) when there’d be just two classifications: the follower and the nonconformist.
Coming back to the NOW, I can assertively state that all our efforts are directed towards following that path which is generally prone to fewer deviances from the Model Societal Path 2000 henceforth referred to as MSP-2000. Now that’s brilliant really because it offers tremendous succor. But is that really the way God intended it? Billions of creatures called human, and one MSP -2000? Now that can’t be right. Maybe there is something awry and vapid about our orientation then.
For those on bordering on peripheral agnosticism and atheism the above thoughts might be incomprehensible, however as the history of disclaimers go, this is just my thought and totally subject to belief. ()
Test#1 Ask a complete stranger what he/she does. In most cases we would be told of academic/professional pursuits. (In case of non availability of those: entrepreneurial/prospective pursuits would be elucidated).
Thought#1 Are we letting the definitions we created to spell out our lives, define us? Is the MSP-2000 creeping into our souls and fettering our spirits?
The way each one of us is fine tuned, genetically and spiritually, is inherently different. If we realize that, then how that is we don’t realize that our lives our not defined by the acts we undertake or the decisions we make to ensure sustenance. Yet, it is these life choices that have been established as the benchmark for introduction, evaluations and my least favorite: judgments.
Each experience for every individual is unique. A music concert attended by thousands would engender different memories and thoughts even though the stimulus is the same. That is something so fundamentally beautiful about life. Our experiences form perceptions which get intermingled with our thoughts which in turn give birth to new experiences. And that is what defines us.
We might all have come with pre-downloaded MSP-2000, but our experiences change every instant. We may have just one life to live it, but there is never one story.
Everyone has a grand plan, a blueprint of sorts. Some make one for themselves; some have it partly drafted for them…by life. And all through we try to ensure that we live according to those charted out plans. Illustration#1 to prove point: Finish School-College of Choice-Work/Another Degree-Marriage-Kids-Work-Blah-Blah. And then that becomes our story.
But is that really our story?
Whatever billions of people humanity has managed to produced, it has taken pride in compartmentalizing each of those billions into these rigid silos. As time progresses, the number of silos will start to dwindle until an age dawns (in the near 3020) when there’d be just two classifications: the follower and the nonconformist.
Coming back to the NOW, I can assertively state that all our efforts are directed towards following that path which is generally prone to fewer deviances from the Model Societal Path 2000 henceforth referred to as MSP-2000. Now that’s brilliant really because it offers tremendous succor. But is that really the way God intended it? Billions of creatures called human, and one MSP -2000? Now that can’t be right. Maybe there is something awry and vapid about our orientation then.
For those on bordering on peripheral agnosticism and atheism the above thoughts might be incomprehensible, however as the history of disclaimers go, this is just my thought and totally subject to belief. ()
Test#1 Ask a complete stranger what he/she does. In most cases we would be told of academic/professional pursuits. (In case of non availability of those: entrepreneurial/prospective pursuits would be elucidated).
Thought#1 Are we letting the definitions we created to spell out our lives, define us? Is the MSP-2000 creeping into our souls and fettering our spirits?
The way each one of us is fine tuned, genetically and spiritually, is inherently different. If we realize that, then how that is we don’t realize that our lives our not defined by the acts we undertake or the decisions we make to ensure sustenance. Yet, it is these life choices that have been established as the benchmark for introduction, evaluations and my least favorite: judgments.
Each experience for every individual is unique. A music concert attended by thousands would engender different memories and thoughts even though the stimulus is the same. That is something so fundamentally beautiful about life. Our experiences form perceptions which get intermingled with our thoughts which in turn give birth to new experiences. And that is what defines us.
We might all have come with pre-downloaded MSP-2000, but our experiences change every instant. We may have just one life to live it, but there is never one story.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Joie De Vivre-Making the Most of Ill Health
Being under the weather gives one a lot of time to think. In between naps that stretch through the day, and vile medicines, throw in some rumination for good measure. It's fascinating really, the realms the head can traverse when it’s supposedly on a "time out".
Amidst capricious thoughts of launching a career as a waitress in some roadside cafe in Antibes, my mind assaults the stomach with cravings for all sorts of food which are indeed prohibited on the other side of good health. Alas! The book I am reading with its graphic narratives of truffles, Bresse Chicken and Burgundies, is like an anathema, but only till the time I reach the chapter on gelatinous snails. Now THAT I can pass.
Another observations that dawns in my clogged up head for want of gastronomic delights, is that how television has nothing good to offer when you actually do have the luxury and liberty of devoting more than ten minutes to mind numbing movie marathons.
As I convince my self to watch the fifty eighth rerun of that movie which I already saw twice post my resolve to not watch it in the first place, I realize that the aroma of tea offers much comfort to me even as the decadence that has been brought about by excessive medication and rest refuses to let up.
I browse through the pages of a glossy magazine promising to reveal all on the haute couture of the working wardrobe. It is exciting this promise, I must admit. I feel like a dilettante in this world of fashion and accessories to be honest, and it’s valid to tell you the truth. I really can’t afford that Lambskin Chanel worth thirty thousand rupees.
Last of all I’d like to thank the inventors of muffins. They have been the best of friend in these trying times. The kind of best friend you eat though.
Amidst capricious thoughts of launching a career as a waitress in some roadside cafe in Antibes, my mind assaults the stomach with cravings for all sorts of food which are indeed prohibited on the other side of good health. Alas! The book I am reading with its graphic narratives of truffles, Bresse Chicken and Burgundies, is like an anathema, but only till the time I reach the chapter on gelatinous snails. Now THAT I can pass.
Another observations that dawns in my clogged up head for want of gastronomic delights, is that how television has nothing good to offer when you actually do have the luxury and liberty of devoting more than ten minutes to mind numbing movie marathons.
As I convince my self to watch the fifty eighth rerun of that movie which I already saw twice post my resolve to not watch it in the first place, I realize that the aroma of tea offers much comfort to me even as the decadence that has been brought about by excessive medication and rest refuses to let up.
I browse through the pages of a glossy magazine promising to reveal all on the haute couture of the working wardrobe. It is exciting this promise, I must admit. I feel like a dilettante in this world of fashion and accessories to be honest, and it’s valid to tell you the truth. I really can’t afford that Lambskin Chanel worth thirty thousand rupees.
Last of all I’d like to thank the inventors of muffins. They have been the best of friend in these trying times. The kind of best friend you eat though.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Metamorphosis
Permanence is an illusion which confounds us. And then, there is this eternal question of what is change really? Definitions can be half as warped as us. There is change inherent even in redundancies and repetitions. We change, time changes, how can repetition be repetition if the parameters which characteristically defined the occurrence of that instant have changed? The possessions we accumulate, the relationships which we engender, the people we encounter, the places we visit-all of it is transient. Why is that we develop such inveterate bonds with some things (I use the word things loosely, it can refer to humans as well) while with respect to some others we live in a state of oblivion or even a self constructed cocoon? We submit to winds of destiny when we are confronted with transmutation in mundane matters. Alternate driving paths are chosen without the slightest feeling of loss; a new seating arrangement is embraced with a servile undertaking, even a change in day is ushered in with a complete disregard for the one which went by. Perhaps we have made ourselves this way, carefully selecting a set of things towards which we will remain ossified. Is it self defense? I say it is hypocrisy. Embrace change pervasively. Feel a sense of loss when the road is blocked, it was the one that carried you home everyday. Say goodbye to that chair and bid a doleful goodbye to the day. Or if that’s too much - embrace permanence. Try anyway.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
There is this issue of love and man
Perhaps god made love to show that he can?
And then he brought in the lovers and their heart
He told them his wish…love..
..my children, never part
Bud did he prepare them for the labour of love?
The agony, the pain, the upheaval of trust?
Pray, did he give a hint at all,
To the lovers and their heart..
About the mighty fall?
Nothing was told,
They were not fore warned
To bear the burden..
Would not be easy at all
Perhaps god made love to show that he can?
And then he brought in the lovers and their heart
He told them his wish…love..
..my children, never part
Bud did he prepare them for the labour of love?
The agony, the pain, the upheaval of trust?
Pray, did he give a hint at all,
To the lovers and their heart..
About the mighty fall?
Nothing was told,
They were not fore warned
To bear the burden..
Would not be easy at all
Obscure Battles that are won everyday...
"I’m weak and ungrounded, the accident didn’t leave me with much to go on with. All hope was lost, all self resolve, all forms of resilience gone. Each day was a long journey of survival, every breath an effort of protest against the urge to give in to the abyss of loss. Every step I took came after much deliberation, and hesitation, it was accompanied with constant foreboding of doom. The fear of failure to walk was always at the back of my head. It impaired every move I made, it made me lose hope in myself. The days would float by, without much from me to it, and without much to it from me.
The passive existence continued. The hope would come one day and encourage me to conquer the fear and start anew, yet sometimes it would elude me for days at a stretch. The days it engulfed me, life seemed to have given me another chance. The days it went absconding, I wanted to crawl back to the beginning of existence or perhaps the end of it. I was broken at places I hadn’t even realized. I was broken in my belief in myself. I was broken in my belief in existence. I was broken in the perception of life. I would cling on to anything that promised to get me a step ahead. I believed I needed this support to learn to crawl back into the race. Somedays help came, other days I waited by the window, I called out its name, I even begged, yet it decided to stay away. Soon, I stopped waiting. I decided to inch back into the game by myself. I was tired of waiting for a miracle, a rescue mission. It started then, the recovery.
Soon, I was trying hard to live. Striving to move. Striving to be more than a breath. The motion and the breeze were my heroes, I sought inspiration from them. I was walking again. I could feel the wind in my hair. I started dreaming. Hope and fear stopped being quirky then. I knew they were not my enemies anymore. I wasn’t ready for the final race yet. Baby steps were all I could do. Then came the aftershocks. I wasn’t ready. The defense wasn’t in place, the gameplan wasn’t final just yet. I was broken again, the blow split me up. I lost my brace and suddenly found myself back in the abyss from where I’d just emerged. But this time I recovered faster. I’d been there before. It was familiar. I knew what was to be done.
I’m not perfect still, my insides are still weak from all those falls but I know, the next time when I fall again, I’ll be up faster than before, and then one day I’ll just stand the fall out."
The passive existence continued. The hope would come one day and encourage me to conquer the fear and start anew, yet sometimes it would elude me for days at a stretch. The days it engulfed me, life seemed to have given me another chance. The days it went absconding, I wanted to crawl back to the beginning of existence or perhaps the end of it. I was broken at places I hadn’t even realized. I was broken in my belief in myself. I was broken in my belief in existence. I was broken in the perception of life. I would cling on to anything that promised to get me a step ahead. I believed I needed this support to learn to crawl back into the race. Somedays help came, other days I waited by the window, I called out its name, I even begged, yet it decided to stay away. Soon, I stopped waiting. I decided to inch back into the game by myself. I was tired of waiting for a miracle, a rescue mission. It started then, the recovery.
Soon, I was trying hard to live. Striving to move. Striving to be more than a breath. The motion and the breeze were my heroes, I sought inspiration from them. I was walking again. I could feel the wind in my hair. I started dreaming. Hope and fear stopped being quirky then. I knew they were not my enemies anymore. I wasn’t ready for the final race yet. Baby steps were all I could do. Then came the aftershocks. I wasn’t ready. The defense wasn’t in place, the gameplan wasn’t final just yet. I was broken again, the blow split me up. I lost my brace and suddenly found myself back in the abyss from where I’d just emerged. But this time I recovered faster. I’d been there before. It was familiar. I knew what was to be done.
I’m not perfect still, my insides are still weak from all those falls but I know, the next time when I fall again, I’ll be up faster than before, and then one day I’ll just stand the fall out."
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