The incorrigible soul.

Hoping this is a comeback

2010-06-24T11:25:00.000-07:00

Today , I thought I should get back here. I started off checking if the people whose blogs I tracked are still around and was rather happy to find all of them still going strong. I started thinking of what to post and decided to begin with why I was away for so long. And even though it might not be of interest to anybody, maybe someday when I come back and look at my blog, I’ll know what kept me busy.

I somehow knew I was made to live the fast life where you are constantly on the move, doing something all the time and when you find a moment to sit back, you are amazed at how time flies. The two years of work life in Mumbai was as fast as it got. All I can remember is the constant running around. Even though I hardly got time to sit back and relax, I loved my life. Coming to the USA, living in a small town like Stony Brook, things were very different. Apart from school, there was not much I was up to. Even though the one and a half year stint at Stony Brook was hectic, I could safely say I had time on hands. When I graduated and knew I was headed to NYC, I was happy. I loved the city. I loved the pace. I embraced the opportunity to be in one of the world’s most spectacular cities whole-heartedly and am on a roll.

For me, the best part about NYC is its metropolitan nature. And that means you have variety in everything – the people, the culture, the food and so on. And I think I am soaking it all up.

When I saw the Latinos salsa, I knew I wanted to sway like them, dance with attitude and style. It’s been a year since I started learning and I am just beginning to catch the beat .

Getting fit was always on the agenda. I finally put the plan into action. I knew I couldn’t sustain the “running on a treadmill” ritual. I definitely get bored easily. Explored a few options and then finalized a boxing club to join. Have been at it for around 6 months now and apart from the amazing feeling of increased strength and stamina, it has done wonders for my confidence levels. And now sky is the limit. There was a time when all I wanted to do was to get some exercise. Now my demands have increased. Recently one of the trainers at my club told me I was getting better and soon I would be in the ring, sparring. I wanted to do my victory dance, but decided it was too silly to go with my macho image :D

And then there was the “falling in love” part of the story that completely changed my life. Well, it wasn’t that dramatic, but I could see my priorities change. The total maniac that Ashley is, he turned me into one as well. There’s never been a single idle moment for the past year and a half. We hiked, skied, ran, danced, rocked, painted homes , played community gardeners, cleaned beaches, fine tuned cooking skills , seriously took up the idea of being “green” and what not! Being together still feels magical :). With Ashley came heavy metal. Though I knew I was an open minded person when it comes to trying out new things, I never thought metal was my thing. But soon I found myself swooning over the guitar. I decided to learn how to play the guitar. Although, with my poor musical skills coupled with an overwhelmingly tight schedule, it’s going super slow, I know one day I’ll be playing “Tornado of Souls”. That’s how compelling the music is.

Another lovely thing that happened to me was Stephanie Gordon, the 17 year old from the Bronx, whom I am mentoring. Thanks to her, I now know what it feels like to be a parent to a teenager! If she’s a brat, it’s just a phase. Blame it on the age. I am sure Stephanie will turn out to be a smart, mature, creative and totally charming adult.

It feels like yesterday when I was in Stony Brook trying to meet a submission deadline, sneaking time in between to make another blog post. One of my wise friends said , if you think time’s zipping past you, it only means you are happy. I couldn’t agree more.

Strange are it's ways!

2008-10-27T08:46:00.000-07:00

The heart flutters
And you know what it means.
You think you can push it away
But you'll find its not always, your way.

Life sometimes, wont let you take control.

You wait for it to pass
Hold on to the Hope thats kept you.
You wonder if it could be worse
And come to know theres no end.

Life sometimes, is an unending abyss.

The night's not to be feared.
You gather the courage that will see you through.
You stop the storm stirring up inside,
All it takes for the calm to break is a single tear.

Life sometimes, wont let you win.

The day dawns and jubilant you are
Only to wake up to the empty dark.
No hope, no dream, no powerful thought
Can halt the doom thats chosen you.

Life sometimes, is a melancholy song.

When Life's decided to take control of you
When Life's pushing you down the abyss
When Life's wanting to be the winner
When Life's pulling down your spirit
Teach yourself a lesson in grace
And one in patience
Teach yourself a lesson in humility
And one in goodness

And know that when Life breaks your fall
It'll be the brightest day you've ever seen.
It'll be the highest peak you've ever reached.
It'll be the success you've never lived.

Life always, is strange in its ways.

The "happy people" of the world

2008-10-11T07:43:00.000-07:00

There are some people who live life fully, savoring every moment of it, happy. For them, there are no worries, no hassles. You’ll see them smile and you’ll know the warmth of their hearts and the joy they carry within them. As hard as I might try to categorize myself as one of them, I can’t. I might be happy overall, but there are a million worries that plague my mind all the time. I’ve made action plans to deal with them and any plan that fails brings along its share of grief. The good thing about me is that I can appreciate “happy people”. And I have a friend who’s one of them. This post is about him and how his magic has rubbed off on me in many ways.

I was supposed to be on the editorial board of one of these local magazines that was around. And since no one really wrote articles for this silly magazine, I wrote an article for it too, every now and then. I was forever finding ways to skip this activity. God's kind and one fine day, one fine man decided he would save me trouble by writing the article that I was supposed to. That was how I met him first, my “happy friend”. He was in another part of the world those days, busy spreading his cheer around there. The first chat we had was nondescript. There was a very noticeable enthusiasm and energy in his tone, but I stick with my comment that it was ordinary. Young people are generally enthusiastic. We didn’t keep in touch after that.

I was doing a lot of things those days, was a member of uncountable number of committees and organizations. One of these committees was planning an event and was hoping to get a lot of people involved in it. We faced never ending woes with it and finally when all looked fine, there was a setback. We ran out on our options for an experienced compere for the event. That’s when someone suggested this fun fella as an option. It was my “happy friend” whom they were talking about. He had landed in our part of the world a few days back and people found him amusing and what they called “fun”! “An option” was better than “no options” and so we took him on board. We pulled it off decently. I got to know him a bit more that day and knew he was one of them, the "happy people" of the world.

I never spotted him without a smile on his face. He was simple. He was like a little kid when he spoke. He would ramble on forever talking of things that made him happy. He would describe how life’s been super good. When he talked of his home town and his people, his eyes would light up with a special kind of sparkle. He loved what he did, both at work and outside of it. Like all of us, he had his own set of worries, but he paid them no attention and focused on the joys in life. His bunch of friends, the little jokes he wrote and contributed to the magazines around, his ambition of writing a book, the thrill of sky diving, the village life he lived when he was in that other part of the world and so on. There were a million things he could have cribbed about and I knew of it. Like a sadist, I waited for the day when he would give up and tell me about all things that were wrong. That day never came. I met him recently after around 2 years and found nothing had changed. There are only more happy stories to listen to and rejoice :). Yes, this time around, he talked about a few things that to me, looked like they went wrong. But he spoke of it so positively and with so much of an optimistic context that I couldn’t help but be in awe of the happiness of his spirit.

I’ve learnt a lot of things from this fella. I’ve changed in a lot of ways. I’ve become more carefree and joyous, in general. I’ve become “cooler”. I don’t take setbacks to heart that much. I know that nothing is the end of the world. The most valuable lesson I picked up is that life is only as good as you think it is. I’ve in fact, used these lessons when I have been put to test and have seen it through.

As for this beautiful friend of mine, I wish that his joyride never ends!

Agnostic?

2008-06-21T20:00:00.000-07:00

The other day, I asked myself if I believed in God. I thought I was sure about the answer. I was shocked when I started fumbling.

I have become so much of a story teller that I could buy my own stories. I could decide one day to endorse a certain idea and then ramble on about it pretending to be convinced and manage to fool not only others but myself. All of the confusion related to whether I agreed to the concept of God began when one fine day, this friend of mine whom I consider genuinely nice, declared she was agnostic. We went on with the discussion for a couple of hours, each one talking about what they thought about the very commonly talked about supernatural powers, religion and related rituals. At the end of the conversation, I started wondering if I was a non-believer in the disguise of a believer. And right there, like a good story teller, I let my imagination loose. Soon I was sure I was only pretending to believe.

Then I told myself that it didn’t really matter whether I was agnostic or a believer as long as I was being good. But I couldn’t carry on with this idea. I had to know exactly what I was, where my beliefs stood. Some flash back and I knew what I was.

It might sound silly but I am certain I’ve seen miracles. They might look like absolutely insignificant events to an outsider who heard the stories, but they meant a lot to me and came by just at the right times. I believe I’ve always been led to making the right choices. Whenever there were two ways to go about things and confusion reigned, all I had to do was sit by myself, do a bit of self talk and mysteriously the answer would become clear. Maybe there is an explanation to it, but no explanation I can think of convinces me enough that it was just me that made it this easy. The happy-go-lucky person that I have been, I am sure I couldn’t have managed it by myself. There was always the companion who would take over when I gave up. To the world it looked like I never gave up.

The last few years haven’t been the best of my years so far. Having lived with grand plans, misery was just waiting to happen. There would have to be some time when I would not be able to live up to my own expectations. And that’s exactly what happened. But all of that didn’t bog me down. Maybe the blessings in life counted up to much more. So I can’t really say the reason my faith thinned was because things weren’t going my way. I had learnt to make the new way, my way. I thought things happened for a reason. I was happy with the reasons given.

Then came along something I had sought for long. I prayed for signs to know I was right. They showed up, the signs. All the time I asked for them, they were right there. It was blissful. I didn’t imagine that the tempest that would attempt to destroy my faith and put me to test was up next. I was caught unawares. Totally. To say I failed would be exaggerating what happened. But I was on the verge of it. I didn’t fall. I made it past the storm. For once, I didn’t have answers to the question I posed to the powers that rule. Yet I knew I wasn’t wrong in my beliefs all this while. I will know my answers when I need to. I was back to being where I was in my equation with God.

I may be completely wrong with how I explained my fumbling, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I know what I am. I would simply not be able to deny Him. I definitely believe.

Dealing with Loss

2008-05-28T19:04:00.000-07:00

There are people without whom you dont imagine life. Every decision you make consciously or unconsciously revolves around them and at most times you dont consider the scenario where they may not be around. They may be ones whom you knew the day you were born, or ones who came into the picture much later. You may have known them all your life or only for a few years. You may be sharing each day with them or you may be in touch only through thoughts. Whatever categories they fall into, you tend to take them for granted. You imagine them to be the constants of your universe. It’s only when you have lost them that you wake up to realize that they meant quite a bit to you. The year that went by was a year of losses.

I lost family. A major chunk of it. And am still trying to come to terms with it. It’s not easy. In fact it’s rather tough and try as I might have to put it behind me, it keeps coming back randomly and yet regularly. Some, I lost to death, some to the world and its ways. Either case, its hit me hard. Talking about it may be a way to get over it. So here I am, talking about a few of them.

She was central to my plans. She was probably the reason too. If there was anybody apart from my parents I thought about when making decisions, plans, anything, it was her. And she left me unexpectedly. Selfish as it might seem, I prayed for her to be not taken away. Even if she was suffering. I still cannot believe she’s gone. But somehow I’ve learnt to derive strength out of her being with the Gods. I think she’s sitting there watching me. I am waiting for the day I can look up to the heavens and see her smiling. She lives on. So she can still stay central to my plans.

They weren’t the closest of family. But the routine included them. And I had pictured a day when I would be able to make the unexpected happen. It never did. But I thought it would. It was wiped off at one go. The curtains brought down abruptly. To imagine the emptiness and void it has created is painful. It had to be the worst tragedy that’s ever happened to my family. To be looking forward to witnessing the miracle of birth only to meet up with death gorily is the kind of stuff that the worst nightmares are made of. To think that she had to see this happen even as she was recovering from another major setback in life, leaves me numb.

One of them decided, one day, to go away. I didn’t try too hard to make it happen otherwise. I am a bit disappointed with myself that I couldn’t be of help. The drifting away from the other one was expected. So it doesn’t hurt so much.

She also left us unexpectedly. I have admired her for the courage with which she lived the life she had to. I wanted to be able to tell her that one day. She was one person I wanted to see happy. Not because she was a hero who was up to extra ordinary things, but because she was a simpleton who didn’t give up. I shudder at the thought of what would have become of me were I to face similar situations. I only pretend to be brave when I am a real coward. She was a hero for me. She really was. I wish I could tell her that. I can only wish.

When I lost that thing I had, I thought it would be simple to get over it. It wasn’t the most important thing; there wasn’t too much attachment with it, that’s what I told myself. Maybe I was lying to make it easy. I don’t know. But the strain remains. The hurt, it’s not unbearable, but it stays.

They say time heals, you move on. I doubt if it’s that way. I don’t see it happening with me. Every time the thoughts come to mind, they tear me apart. I’ve not learnt to deal with it. I’ve only learnt to escape. To bar the thoughts from coming to me, to pretend it never happened.

On a more optimistic note, maybe time does heal. But it will definitely be long before I am ready to face the truth with grace.

R-Day memories

2008-05-26T09:14:00.001-07:00

For the last few days (weeks maybe), I have been getting up in the morning everyday, thinking I am going to finish off one of those pieces of crap I wrote, try to make it look less like crap and then put it up. Today, I thought I'll finish up all of them! Mighty plans. Any way, aiming at the stars, I did land up on the tree top. I managed to finish off a random rambling section and so here it is. The setting is this particular R-Day which I would want to remember for quite some time.

Wazapur makes the best poha on earth. Team it up with black tea and you have a specialty combo. I don’t know if it is the promise of this treat that made me wake up with the sun that morning but I surprised myself with my effort. The first decision I made that day left me stranded at a god forsaken place waiting for that white sumo that would arrive any moment but finally came by after a gruesome 20 minutes of dealing with a sick crowd. Anyway, my ride did arrive and after all the delay, we reached Wazapur pretty late. They were all set. They had been waiting.

It was a beautiful day. The golden sun burning away in all glory, that folded flag waiting to be unfurled, to be let open to flutter mightily in the clear blue skies, boys and girls neatly dressed , lined up, standing in rapt attention. It was an atmosphere charged with patriotic feelings. As ‘their man’ did the honors, and our well trained kiddo singers filled the air with the melody of the songs we had taught them, I could see all of us tremble with emotion. We were all charged up. We were all proud to belong to the country under whose skies we stood that day. We were all genuinely happy to be sharing that grand day with those folks from the village, folks who had become a part of our lives.

Our plan for the day was shram daan. Wazapur is cleaner than most places in Mumbai but there definitely was a need to bring to the attention of village’s aam junta that it was up to them to keep their gaon clean. This theme was what we captured in our slogan for the day and it went ‘Aaple gaon swachcha theva’. (Meaning:Lets keep our village clean! That may not qualify as a slogan, but for now let’s assume it does). We got our garbage collection sacks, made 4 groups, assigned leaders and got going. Soon there were enthusiastic shouts proclaiming awareness of the need to keep the village clean, all around. Two things stand out in memory. Firstly, Shamim’s cousin, this young fella from the city who was initially hesitant to mix with the seemingly ‘not so happening’ village kiddos, who went on to lead our troupe with his nonstop slogan shouts. I couldn’t but stop myself from similing at how the fella soon hit it off with our bunch of kids and how he pushed them into continuing with the fervent naarebaazi:). (I’ve marked him as the kool politician I will vote for one day :), provided he joins my party) And then, there was Prema. She had been a darling since day one. She really was the cutest amongst the lot and she won me all over again that day with the persistence she showcased. My darling didn’t give up on picking up garbage from the streets of her village till the very end when we were done with our rounds. She was simply adorable that day! And then came the poha combo deal, the reason why I had made it to this place on this day.

Maybe that was the first time I decided to do something other than the routine Republic Day ritual, but I came back home feeling like I had just saved the world :). It might be very incorrect to think that a few of us doing a few small things to make the less happy people around us a bit more happy, is a sign of a nation waking up to embrace itself, but there was a genuine feel good factor associated with the Wazapur initiative. That was really the way to go. Didn’t we begin with the kids and move on to their parents and the village as a whole? Wasn’t the fact that it was headed in the direction of becoming an initiative of the junta themselves and not us, the fact that it was the gifted amongst them who had become torchbearers of the initiative, indication that it was a success story? It indeed was. Touch wood!

I am hoping I’ll be able to go back there one day to see a set of people who’ve learnt to help each other out and have come out into the world to claim everything it has to offer. I want to be able to see Prema and Paresh do what we did for them, give their people hope and empower them to chase the dreams that shine in their hope filled eyes.

I am pretty sure I am not asking for too much.

Impressions

2008-03-01T11:13:00.000-08:00

I didn’t notice him when he appeared in front of me for the very first time. The next time, it was magic.

That was probably the first time in life that I acted purely impish. It only helped the cause that there was an equally mad set of friends around. As he spoke of the wonderful things he was up to, we listened awestruck, maybe love struck. He was straight out of the fairytales, the knight in shining armor. We had eyes only for him. The chase began then and continued for some time till he finally was within reach. The other pursuers had given up on the chase by then. I was the only one left. And I didn’t have to chase him anymore. It was bliss.

There was something about him that was endearing. He was a charmer. It was impossible to ignore the fellow. There was nothing outstanding about him, neither the way he looked, nor the way he conducted himself. Yet, he won hearts. One meeting, a small chat and that was all it took. I could never stop envying him for the ease with which he mixed with all kinds of people and made them feel like they were the best thing that happened to him.

I can remember almost all my meetings with him vividly. To this day. There are a few scenes that make me melt every time they come to mind. That day when we sang our hearts out, on top of our voices, like we were claiming the heavens for ourselves will never fade away from memory. None of us were even bathroom singers, but no one could deny the energy and spirit we created that day. It was unbelievable. Another picture that always leaves me dewy eyed is the one where amidst all the merriment and hullabaloo that was part of this celebration we went to, our fellow, the charmer, sat himself down on the ground with his ‘little ones from a far place’ and made sure all of them ate out to their hearts content and enjoyed the party.

He wasn’t really the dream he looked like. There were a lot of things that went against it being so. But somehow, he continued to impress. One could go on and on about what he lacked, try to reason out why he wasn’t really worth the attention he drew everywhere he went. But one had to admit that there was this natural charisma and appeal that he possessed which simply refused to be overshadowed by his follies. It all began and ended pretty soon, but in the short time that he was around, I couldn’t get enough of him.

I am amazed at how some people can be so effortlessly likeable. I wonder how they manage to strike a chord with every soul they meet in life. I wish I could borrow the powerful positive aura they carry around themselves. I’ve met a few of that kind since then. But he still remains on the top spot. I don’t know why I thought of writing about him out of the blue. I simply cannot think of the intent. And yet this one just flowed out of me.

Bidding Adieu

2007-12-23T15:00:00.000-08:00

It was time to say goodbye. I was convinced we would meet again. Somehow it did not look as much an impossibility to me as it did to the others. Even as I tried persuading them to believe that I would be back, that I would be there for them, they were drifting away and getting surer that this was the last time we would interact. I am sure the only one who took my word for it when I promised that the goodbye didn’t mean anything and that it was only a temporary hiatus, was me. They did not doubt the sincerity of my emotions. They knew my commitment was genuine. Yet, they thought this was the last they would see of me. Maybe they had a stronger intuition than mine. Time will tell if I was more determined than the dictates of innocent intuition.

It was a special day. We had managed to reverse the scenario that we were in when we had started out. Things were going great for us. And the other initiative that didn’t need me so much as this one, they were here today to learn from us. I felt like a stranger when we started out. New faces all around, taking the lead, all set to make an impact in the lives of a few adopted kids, they impressed me with their enthusiasm. I had to take the backseat. But like it had to be, I had to be part of the action. There had to be something that the newbie could not handle. And I jumped up to grab the chance. In spite of not having been in business for about a month, I was as comfortable as ever. I knew how to get them to understand stuff, didn’t I? I felt proud of myself.

There was a long list of people who had to speak to the audience that day, the leader fella, the visitors and me. The leadership talked forever. He always was like that. His ramblings would never end. There were more exciting things coming up, newer and grander plans, more magnanimous hearts coming out in support of our cause, more money, more books, more competitions and prizes, more fun. The audience was happy. They liked to listen to him. He gave them hope. He was their man. Next came the chance of our visitors from far. It was amazing to watch the very confident teachers of a kiddo crowd far away in the village go through a mini stage fright fit in front of our brats. I was up next. I had come late to class and like I always did, I kept my word by distributing chocolates (this time they looked like cakes) to all. Our new year resolution was to come to class on time, wasn’t it? I secretly hoped that I would set an example of keeping a promise.

We were running out of time. I had to speak up. Let them know that I was about to quit. I put the idea forward. Krishna was agitated. He let us know he was. He told us what we knew anyways. He told us we would all desert them, run away chasing our own dreams. We never wanted to signify a permanence of support for them. But they had come to believe we were just that. I was overwhelmed. I tried my best once again to make them understand that we did not want them to lean on to us but to be independent and self-motivated individuals. I told them I was about to emulate one of their revered leaders, Dr. Baba Sahib Ambedkar and that they should follow suit too. One of my sweethearts came up with something like a joke. When she told the class, our next rendezvous would be via the pages of the history book where I would figure along with Dr. Ambedkar, I laughed hard. The next moment, I was fighting away the tears that swelled my eyes.

It was friendship’s day and I had my hands tied up with colorful ribbons, pink and red most of them. I was glad they took me for a friend. I walked home flaunting my fully tied up hands. Success march.

One more happy day.

Affirmation

2007-12-23T12:35:00.000-08:00

It was the most stunning bird I had ever seen. And that still stands. Majestic and Rhapsodic, I was sure it was one of its kind. Wasn’t this the first time I was truly enraptured by a bird? Birds, creatures I had been watching for a long long time! Everything it did pleased me. As it introduced itself chirping and jumping about the branches of the peepal next to my window, I could feel it’s free spirit taking me over. I wanted to equate it to me.

It was the season of waiting. I would stay put at the window every morning in the hope of another conversation with my friend. And did it turn up each day to make me feel like it was going to last forever. It was the most refreshing activity of the day, my meeting with its majesty. It spoke little but I was certain it understood my admiration. I believe it basked in the attention. Each day I wished I could watch it more closely. Although the hints of opening up remained a constant, it never came too close. It always maintained its enigmatic appeal. If one day I discovered it could open out its fan tail and enthrall me with its ‘dancing around the trees’ act, the next day it would surprise me with its exotic display of color. Wasn’t that a crimson and pista green patched coat that I saw! Oh! And it is larger than I thought it is. Aha, and that’s what they call grace. But all of it, Peek a boo.

I wanted to draw close. I wanted to catch its attention. I tried everything in the book to get noticed. Grains, peanuts, chillies, guava, fish, meat. In vain. It seemed happier pecking away the woods. My friends grew in number. Those that feasted on the treat I laid out became regulars. I also gained an agitated set of neighbors who could not tolerate the noise.

It may sound crazy, but I thought it yearned to meet me just like I did. I was foolish. The bird was loved by all. I wasn’t the only one on the window next to the peepal tree. It was my one-track mind that tricked me into believing that it was just the two of us. My neighbors, the same agitated set, they were in the picture too. They were one with me in their admiration for the bird. They lived by the peepal too. They waited every morning for their darling too. And so it was an affair that involved not just the two of us but a whole bunch of “others”. Realization dawned.

Did that matter? I would like to believe it didn’t. But then I would be lying to say I didn’t feel depressed to know that there were “others”. Was I being possessive ? No. Because I didn’t possess it anyway. But there was something amazing about the “imagined” exclusive nature of my bonding with the bird that knowledge of the crowding killed. Was I shattered? Maybe I was. Because I decided to call it quits. I returned back to the routine. There was no more waiting. It was good once again. Till that day.

I cannot believe I have slipped into that thing again. But, I had no options. One fine morning, the bird was all mine. It paid me an exclusive visit. It woke me up with its song at my window. Affirmation it was!

Have I gone into a loop? Yes. I have. Am I being foolish? Maybe I am. But till there is a “break” I’ll go on.

Hail the Rulers!

2007-03-24T02:52:00.000-07:00

Why does the heart push me hard?
Leave me with no options…
Where from surfaces the hidden Bard?
Romanticize the struggle…
Why do I go on to risk it all?
Brave a possible fall…
Do I have it in me?
The courage to let life crawl…
Would I look back with regret?
Broken with despair…
Isn’t it dangerous to day dream?
Thoughts run wild…
Aren’t they right in their reserve?
Impossibilities don’t escape them…
Did I not yearn for this life?
Free to live and free to die…
Did I ever ask for a choice?
I had every right…
Why do I seek a lost cause?
The glory has gone by…
Will it ever come to pass?
That elusive chance to stand tall…
What drives me to take my chance?
That promise of infallibility…
Why does the idea at all, enthrall?
The certainty of an empty all…
Am I not a liar?
Though, I have been honest…
I have all the answers…
Yet, aren’t they more than that?
I have let up…
Haven’t they seen my cards?
I am an optimist…
Isn’t that only right?
It isn’t a vicious world…
Wouldn’t it let me run my race?
The all too idealistic chase…
Why do I fancy the trashy dash?
The deserving always win their honor…
What then, is the need for the vain fight?
Solitude, I forever sought…
Why then, tears on being left out?
All set to wage a lonely battle…
Am I calling quits before its begun?
This war picture is a conjuration…
Isn’t it the product of a fertile imagination?
I play up things…
Doesn’t that make it easy to run riot?
There was something that egged me on…
Wasn’t it what I’ve lived by?
The spirit reigned…
Did I surrender to ruin?
It’s going in circles…
And didn’t I know it would.
I offer no defense. Resignation it is. Hail the Rulers!

The great Life!

2006-12-30T03:04:00.000-08:00

I cannot sleep today. My head seems to be on the verge of explosion with my imagination working overtime to paint pictures of the days to come. I always knew I was born to be an actor. What I did not know was that God was working a miracle for me. Ecstasy is an understatement for the elation I feel today after a performance that met with the usual applause to our play, but in addition brought me the company of the biggest name in the Film Industry. Isn’t this the moment I dreamt of each night, isn’t this what my heart yearned for each time I donned the greasepaint and brought alive my characters on stage, isn’t this the culmination of my short but eventful journey in theatre, isn’t this the start of my mission to rule the Silver Screen, isn’t this the fulfillment of my destiny to hobnob with the faces I worshipped. My mind tires me with countless thoughts it is churning out, I cannot rest.

Even as the thought of dizzying Success and Fame thrill me, I know it is going to be a tough decision for me. If acting has been a passion, Tennis has been my lifeline. It’s been my constant companion, a true friend. That incredible feeling of representing the hopes of a billion people and squeezing out of oneself, literally everything to make sure that victory is accomplished is a high that nothing else can compare to. I am lucky to have had parents who’ve supported a far-fetched dream. If they wouldn’t have let me drop out of school, if they would have suffocated me with their concern for my future, I would never have been the success that I am. If I sound proud of my achievement as an Indian tennis player who has made it big, it is simply because I certainly am. If Sania belonged to the top 50, I win Grand Slams. If she was a celebrated; I should be revered. It has not been a cake walk reaching where I am. I have pumped in my blood and sweat into the game. I deserve the rights to call it quits. If there are those , who damn me for the arrogance that makes me drop my rackets to run around trees, it is their problem. I did not play for their sake; neither do I act for them. They are welcome to wish me doom.

I don’t want to be a self-conceited fool. But, it is sometimes difficult to believe that I’ve had opportunities that mortals can only dream of. From being known in school as Einstein re-incarnated, to being touted as the next Sania Mirza and going ahead to exceed the expectations out of me, to falling in love with someone whom I consider the ultimate Film Maker of our times, so much so that acting and theater become a craze, to this day, when I am on the threshold of writing a new success story, my life looks like a dream. It indeed is one, the creation of a reverie!

The Perfect Denial

2006-08-27T09:14:00.000-07:00

There is a peculiar habit I have, of living in denial. And it surfaces every time I am faced with extremes in life. Today, for the first time since I started my posts on the blog, I am penning down exactly what I am going through. Maybe the state of mind I am confronting today is imaginary, fashioned by the travails of the lead character of the story I have been reading for quite some time now. Either ways, I intend to record this messy affair.

I am a believer in destiny. And I have always tried to live by the principle of ‘Karma’ that the Bhagvad Gita advocates .I learnt of it first, through a lesson we had in our Hindi texts about Swami Vivekananda; it said ‘Karm kar, Phal ki apeksha na kar’; I was impressed. But, quite in a contrary manner to my aforementioned beliefs, I have always been the planner. And plans cannot really be made without having clear goals in mind. It therefore followed that I had plans for my life too. Discrete plans at that. I guess, I can claim that I have pursued my ambition with dedication. Coming to terms with the fact that a part of your dream has melted away before you could even blink, is, to say the least, upsetting. I have already slipped into the denial mode. This has happened to me before, but what makes it strange this time is that on the one hand as I make efforts to deny my misery, on the other, I am yet again refusing to acknowledge the extreme joy that a certain event in life has brought about. Being torn apart between two extremes is really not something that I am used to. It has left me completely perplexed and clumsy.

My distress and anguish, as I mentioned before have come about due to the realization that my plans do not stand any more. I shall never achieve certain things. In a way, it reinstates my belief in destiny. The very same destiny, I thought, had brought me to a beautiful spring, that I often saw, but dismissed as being a mirage, in the desert of my life. The elation I have experienced, by one fond word has been something I cannot explain to myself, however hard I might try. My mind urges me to deny the quixotic ideas that have crept into my head. My heart doesn’t speak up. Maybe it is overwhelmed by the intensity of feelings that pull at it, and even more by the conflict in them. Maybe silence is an answer. But I am not sharp enough to interpret silences. So there I slip again. Denial is the perfect escape. In both extremes, it is a craven act. Nevertheless, it can spare you a lot of trouble.

I deny the sorrow, I deny the pain of crushed hopes, I deny my dreams; I deny joy, I deny the smile that crosses my face every time I think of that one fond word, I deny the thrill of yearning for more, I deny all fondness of the world. And that’s enough. For now, there is no need to deny the paradox and irony of this scene of life.

Of friends, foes and friend turned foes.

2006-08-06T08:03:00.000-07:00

However hard one might try to deny the social nature of human beings, it is still a reality. Permanent solitude is something that no one wishes for. We all want to be loved, to be cared for, and given the option of unaccountability and otherwise, we would choose the latter. At the end of the day, all of us want someone to be answerable to. Some may claim that their conscience is a good enough companion; but for sure it cannot compensate for a corporeal soul to laugh and cry with.

Family is a blessing. I am glad to be born in a society that associates the highest importance to family. But there is something spectacular about friendship that makes me put it up at a higher level. It’s fabulous how two complete strangers can build up a bond so miraculous that for them their relationship and its standing transcend everything; sometimes even family. In spite of having strong likes and dislikes, I can categorize myself as the friendly type. I have limitless patience with people. My friends still tease me about my playing agony-aunt to scores of people.

Some of my best friend relationships have started off rather unpredictably, in a way that has made me feel that some things are just mean to be. I have always had good people around me; strong, generous and unbelievably genuine. They have strengthened my belief in the goodness of every human soul. I have also had the not so strong, the not so generous and the not so genuine ones, whom I have still called ‘friends’, for reasons beyond explanations. For me, it really has never been about whether or not my friends will live up to the saying ‘a friend in need is a friend in deed’. It might sound the most pompous statement to make, but I have always lived with the idea that only I can redeem myself. It needs courage to say this, yet I can, that I have never expected anything from any of my friends. For me, it’s been about companionship. And just that. The ‘give and take’ theory is of no consequence to me. Perhaps, that explains why I have never felt let down in a relationship.

All this with one exception, a rather unfortunate one. What is extremely odd about this one association that turned sour, (this one was not with a single individual, but with a set of them) is that the reasons for the fall out are something that I have still not been able to find out, and it never struck me when it happened. I was particularly fond of these people.
We were not bum-chum friends who’ve had great times together, but I thought we would grow into that. I had no clues, the dynamics of this camaraderie was all set to change, and change drastically. We did not turn into ‘foes’ like the title of this post suggests, but all good will was lost; at least from their end. Even today, I simply cannot think of a cause. One mistake I committed was yielding to my ego. When they found it better to deny me, I retaliated in a similar fashion. It was heart-breaking to pretend nonchalance when I was aching to know what went wrong. It possibly meant nothing to them, or maybe they just did not take it so much to heart as I did. Either ways, I took it as a loss for me. With age, you mature; it’s been more than 5years since I met with this ‘accident’. But, the scars still remain. I have sincerely wished and prayed for the ironing out of this one, but it hasn’t worked. I am on talking terms with one of them, the others, still remain alienated.

I started writing this post quite some days back, have been trying to conclude it and put it up, but it had to happen this way, this had to be put up on ‘Friendship’s day’. Some things are just meant to be…

Rewind!

2006-07-23T03:06:00.000-07:00

Well, all the kid-talk of the previous post and an afternoon spent looking through the dozen albums that my parents compiled to remind them of my childhood, had to lead to this.

Every time I delve into my past,
Some things never fail to overwhelm.
School days, I can never forget,
Childhood memories forever will stay.
The rain, the wind, the games, the mall,
Some lovely friends, most of all.
The boss at school, the boss at play,
I thought I was born to be king.
Lady luck never stopped smiling at me,
Worries and Tensions, none for me.
School was something I always looked forward to,
The gossip, the fights, the teachers and tests.
I wasn’t really good at play,
Yet, in everything I had a say.
The annual days, the jamun trees,
The badminton and cricket matches,
The bonds of love and friendship,
Everything comes back to me in a jiffy.
Emotions take me over…
I declare once again…
“Those were the days of Glory!
The best part of my life’s story!”

Little GODs

2006-07-23T03:03:00.000-07:00

I saw her the day she was born. Along with her anxious parents and relatives, I had waited for her to become a part of my life. With her cherubic smile and luminous eyes, she was an angel. She would smile and sometimes even laugh in her peaceful slumber. They say, it’s because she was enjoying a story, her friend angels from heaven, told her. I have experienced pure joy as I accompany her, my sweetheart, in her ongoing journey into adulthood.
Children are such hallowed beings!

I adore children.
From the dullest, sulkiest, dirtiest, ugliest, naughtiest ones to the perfect angels, I can forge an almost instantaneous bond with any kid. I feel blessed.
A few minutes in innocent company can completely liberate you. There are people in the world who have grown out of formalities that the world ties you down with, they can just be. But for majority of the people who are otherwise, something as simple as being oneself is a tough asking. I fall in the latter category. And my kiddo companions are the perfect let outs. They do not judge, they do not expect a mannered me, they are the most open-minded beings on earth. Yes, when my sweetheart walks into my room and finds it littered, she tells me about it, when she sees me half-dressed on a sudden invasion of hers into my territory, she mocks me; but in spite of it all, she loves me not one bit less.

I adore children.
I melt at the mention of any cause for their betterment. It is very gladdening to see a whole lot of NGOs taking up this huge task. It is heartening to see governments all over the world recognizing the need of safeguarding a child’s childhood. What is depressing is the lack of concerted efforts and public participation. The biggest pain of living in a city like Mumbai is that of sighting children in situations they shouldn’t be in and being almost helpless about it. When the little boy at the local shop hands me over the purchase I made, When the groggy kid of my company bus instructs and guides the driver to make appropriate pick up halts, in the wee hours of the morning, When on my Sunday bike ride to my school, the petite young lady at the traffic signal persuades my friend successfully to buy kid’s story books for his non-existing kids, I feel the need to assume Godliness...Godliness to emancipate the little gods!

The Man I want to be.

2006-06-10T01:53:00.000-07:00

Some people are born heroes. Most of them are unsung heroes. This is the story of one such man.

His mother belonged to one of the most well known and affluent families in a bustling town of Kerala. They owned the biggest hotels in town and the many buses named after His mother that carried people across the town, made the fiery young lady gloat with pride. When she was married off to His father, the dowry passed on, was enough for generations after them to live off in luxury.

Fights over property are a part of every family in Kerala. And, without an exception at that. The naïve young couple had no option but to continue with tradition. They fought off a lot of competition and emerged winners. They got more than what they deserved. They deserved nothing. That was the beginning of doom. They would have to pay for every single penny they weren’t worthy of. The curses of the deprived were out there, to haunt them to death.

His father was a noble man. He succumbed to greed just once. He was the most magnanimous amongst all his brothers. He was the only one who would enquire after everyone’s well being. He would help without hesitation. He would give without any second thoughts whatsoever. He thought a thousand good deeds would make up for the only wrong he did. He was being too optimistic. God had decided otherwise.

Abundance soon changed to adversity. My hero wasn’t born into it, but grew into it. He was good at a lot of things he did. There were no takers. The fate of His folks and Him was sealed. The judgment had been passed. But he was born to salvage. He was born as a respite from doom. He was born to win amnesty for damned family.

He met his conscience early on in life. He decided to be answerable to it. Being elder to his two sisters and five brothers, he became the father figure. He can easily claim to have brought them up single handedly. He would bathe them, cook for them, teach them, drop them to school, advice them, correct them, love them, mother them…
He topped his school, one of the best schools in the town in the SSC examinations. His name still remains inscribed on the toppers list at the prestigious school. I have heard stories of how he would have to beg his parents into buying him books and stationary and give him money to travel, stories of how he had walked down all the way from home to school, a good 10 km in the rain without an umbrella, to write the Mathematics examination for which he never studied and yet almost scored a 100. My heart aches even as I write this account.

He put an end to his academics prematurely. He knew he had to be fast. He left the town that brought about the fall of his family. He pledged to be the superman he did not know he already was. He went through hell. His days of struggle liberated him. He overcame everything, whether it was his best buddies cheating him, or his health letting him down on many an occasion and forcing him to forego the many brilliant opportunities that only splendid people like him deserved, or the conceited thankless acts of his siblings, or the uncountable tragedies life met out to him. He never gave up on anything or anyone. From not being able to speak a single sentence in English to being the most well read and amazing users of the language, from being in a situation where he could only ask, to being the one whom everyone asks from, from being inspired by Lincoln and Marx and the likes to being an inspiration for every single soul he meets, from being an absolute nobody in a self-centered society to being the most respected human being amongst his people, he has been the real winner. Modern in the real sense of the term, my Hero is the most selfless and vulnerable person I have ever met. His mother’s fire and his father’s magnanimity live on through him.

I know only a little about him, mainly through narrations from his close friends and his family, which is truly blessed. But every time I see the Man, I can feel the aura around him, I can see the Hero in him, I can feel the emptiness of my soul and the largess of his,
I can feel my heart tugging me to rise above the ordinary.

He has given me the parameter to judge myself. The day I can meet his eyes, I would have tasted success.

Paradise regained!

2006-05-21T02:53:00.001-07:00

That season? I do not place a bet.
That fateful day? Yes, I did forget.
That defining moment? I do not recollect.
My aching soul, when I met.

I looked it straight in the eye.
Hunting for hints to prove it a mighty lie.
In all earnest did I try.
But my haunting soul, I could just not deny.

My towering ego trembled that moment.
My fortress of confidence quivered that day.
An upheaval there was, in my life that season.
With my raging soul, I failed to reason.

It made me drop my defenses.
It brought back to me, my senses.
Then on, I knew my calling.
I could afford no more falling.

That was the season of awakening
Those were the days of penance
That was the moment I rose
To regain, the paradise I had lost.

Dark Thoughts…Negativism takes over

2006-05-21T02:53:00.000-07:00

If the truth you ever tell,
You’ll see your heaven turn to hell.
And be branded as a ‘bloody rebel’.
You cry, you scream or you yell,
Your family and friends will push you down the well.

The truth alone never triumphs,
Sure, it leaves you in the dumps.
The one who dares, the one who cares,
Is the one who always badly fares.

The world around demands you lie.
Definitely will you fly sky high.
Choose all wrongs, reject the rights.
Your life will be lit by a million lights.

So, my friends, I always say,
To make your days happy n gay,
Your conscience, your soul must u never trust.
For power, money, acceptance in the world, must you always lust.

Poetry?

2006-05-21T02:50:00.000-07:00

During the tense build-up to the HSC exams, shuttling between college and classes, I started writing unstructured, hazy and confusing lines on books and notepads that I landed my hands on. I decided they could be called poems.

One very interesting thing about these ‘so-called’ poems is that I simply cannot write them when I am on a high, which most often I am. It’s only when I am in the worst of moods, only when I am stressed out that they come up. And during those times, I can simply not restrain myself from writing them.

The plea. ( One of the earliest ones I wrote.)

The sun rises with a golden mane
Yet, no hope, only pain.
When will these shackles break free?
Joy in every heart, when will we see?

Souls weeping in agony,
Is this is the power of money?
Poverty, we wish to bid u adieu,
Loosen your clutches, let go at least a few.

Millions of lives know only of despair,
Oh God! I plead that you be fair.
Suffering and afflicted many lie,
Unable to afford a humble pie.

Gnashing of teeth, losing of faith,
In love and care, must they bathe.
With Kindness, their spirits will revive,
Them mad, will happiness drive.

It is up to us the lucky ones,
To stop accumulation of wealth in tons.
Let us all be magnanimous,
And Help as we can without a fuss.

The calling

2006-05-20T03:40:00.000-07:00

I have been a happy go lucky person by fate.

I had a childhood that was like a dream. School was fun. I was good at what they did there. Invariably I was every teacher’s pet. I still love and remember my teachers for the kind of high they gave me in life, that first push in confidence that has stayed with me all along. Being envied by every kid in class for the special attention I got was definitely a high, a complete ego-booster! Back at play, things were similar, a whole lot of fun.

I had the best parents ever. Even though it sounds clichéd, I cannot put it in any other way, because it is the truth. I cannot recollect a single episode of my parents being after my life to pick up my books and read. They never ever forced me or my sister to do that. But yes, they made it clear to us that the only goal we were chasing then, as students, was education. There were only two important activities in life, school and play. Coming from a Christian family there had to be the church and religion figured into our lives. I had Christian friends and cousins who would go to the church every Sunday, who would recite prayers by the dozen, in the morning, in the night, at every opportunity they chanced upon, but not me. My parents never told me a word about religion. They never taught me prayers to recite. They never introduced me to a concept called God that my friends would often discuss. Instead, they simply informed me about the rights and the wrongs. Today, I cannot thank them enough for having kept me away from rituals and religion, as a kid when I was most impressionable.

But, somewhere out of the blue, without any explanations whatsoever I started connecting to something within me. I started talking to myself. I started validating everything I did with myself. When, things would look messy I started surrendering to myself. I became a constant companion to myself. And the whole thing didn’t confuse me one bit. I do not recollect when the transition took place, but soon I started calling my constant companion God. I started striking deals with him. I would promise him goodness in return for things I thought were beyond my control. It became like a give and take relationship between us.

When I was in the fourth standard, my brilliant mind came out with a life-time deal with him. I promised him things that were beyond an innocent 8 year old in return for things that were again beyond the same innocent 8 year old. He accepted the deal. The pact was in place. Sounds unbelievable, but that day I found my calling. There have been phases in life when I have completely forgotten the pact, possibly violated it’s clauses. But He has forgiven and forgotten. Quite like me at that. Each time there was too much of a straying away; there was a miracle in my life. And I knew the signs. I returned.

I keep going.

Incorrigible...the word and it's meaning in my context

2006-05-18T07:38:00.000-07:00

Incorrigible........'beyond correction'. That's what I mean when I brand myself with that word.

There have been moments of truth in Life. I have learnt many lessons. I cannot claim I learnt them correct. But whatever I have learnt will stay with me forever. I am beyond correction.

I am completely ruled by the heart. I disguise the fact. And I am a convincing actor. They tell me emotions are deceiving, the heart lets you down. I damn them. I am beyond correction.

There are rules that the society makes. I love people. I love society. I like to please people. I like to make them happy. But, I am ruled only and only by the heart. No compromise there. They call it rebellion. I am beyond correction.

I give without expecting. I am not calculative. They damn it as impracticality, I believe in karma. I am beyond correction.

I can go on and on about myself. They call it egotism. I cannot comprehend what they say. I am beyond correction.

I get started

2006-05-18T06:47:00.000-07:00

Can't believe I am FINALLY about to join the bloggers bandwagon. Have decided to go beyond the diary habit and put it all out there, all that psycho babble that I used to keep restricted to that magical bind of papers( which I believed was where my soul resided, I still do.).

I do not know what to promise the readers of this blog...if ever there will be readers:), but this blog might just about capture the many moods that I go through, the zillions of thoughts that come to me, the millions of plans I make every passing minute, the never-ending ' Life's To Dos' I keep appending to my list every second in my bid to immortality.

I do not feel like I am at the crossroads of life, I dont have to eliminate options and choose the correct path. I know that all roads that I see in front of me are the ones that I want to take, none of them are mirages, none of them lead the wrong way. All of them are paths I have to move along. That's where I am stuck up.

I write this blog as a self-talk. So here they begin, the chronicles of the incorrigible soul.