Why The Prejudice?

Our parents love us. They only think the best for us and it’s very natural for them to be protective of us for we are their prized assets. Their lives revolve around us and I’ll forgive them if, during our childhood, they leave us bereft of certain experiences only because they think it’s dangerous. But sometimes what starts as protectionism from parents, if let out of control, ends up culminating into a barrier for us to experience our true being. They try and change things in us without knowing fully the implications it may have on us later.

One such phenomenon in our society is parents trying to change the dominant hands of their children. India is a land of a trillion mesmerizing things and one of them are superstitions. And it is quite natural that some of those fallacies are built around the taboo that is associated to the use of left hand. Let’s take it from the top when the child is born with a dominant left hand. A child is born with no such knowledge and if the behaviour is never interrupted, he may never notice that he is out of ordinary or ominous in any way. Imagine how normal his life would be. However, if he hands over his money with his left hands in our society, he is asked to change the hands first and then give it again, for it is wrong to hand over money with left hands. Now try and concentrate on the dilemma and embarrassment a child would face when he is asked to shy away from the most mundane inclination of using his left hand and he isn’t wrong at all. Superstitions such as below have forever kept as befooled –

1. Performing any ritual with left hand is ominous and God won’t accept your gift. Really? Don’t our religious books say that you are perfect in God’s image of a perfect child? He only asks you to be in gratitude for the gifts he has rendered to you and a left hand is one of them!
2. We’re also deterred from using our left hands to eat or cook and these limitations are most commonly dished out upon females who use kitchens more than men do. It is claimed by various studies that females are lesser prone to be born left handed and so, if ever a female around us is a southpaw; simply observe the uniqueness without judgement and prejudice.

Now recall the Indian hygiene habits in our Indian toilets. Do you think that’s where everything went wrong for Indians who were born left handed and then were forced to change their dominant hand? Wouldn’t correct hygiene habits get us rid of all the dogma? Had some of the famous southpaws been scorned for using their left hand, we wouldn’t have witnessed those Amitabh fight scenes that we whistled on, or Yuvraj’s 6 sixes in an over, or that first over hat-trick by Irfan Pathan against Pakistan. To sum it up, DON’T EVER meddle with the intuition that your child is born with.

An Unbound Rage

That mental cacophony,

That uncompressed yell,

That undulating pain,

The hurt your heart felt,

That sickness in your belly,

Those trembling hands,

Those clenched muscles,

That need to dish out fear,

That sadistic streak,

Those flickering eyes,

Those shallow breaths,

Those pulsating nerves,

That short gulp,

Trigger to a Slur!

 

Left Handers – The Eccentricity in the Crowd

Let’s admit it – southpaws are attractive! They look so regal when they pick that pen up to sign a cheque or when they pick up a cricket bat and caress that cover drive. Stand across the court to a certain Rafael Nadal (tennis) or Carolina Marin (badminton) and you’ll know you are headed towards an unchartered territory; a territory that you may not be very well equipped to handle as a right hander. You can almost feel a different wave of energy around them. Hold the left hand of a right handed person and then hold the left hand of a southpaw, you’ll notice a certain enigma about the left hander. It’s like a different, unheard and unfelt mode of communication. The touch of a left hander would say a lot, for the way our body is cross-wired – left hand is connected to the right hemisphere of our brain while the right hand is connected to the left hemisphere. And that’s why left handers think and behave differently than others.

Just to let you in on the purposes of the right and left hemispheres of our brain, the right one, that controls the left hand, is the creative and imaginative side aka the feminine side of our personality while the left one, that controls the right hand, is the logical side associated with the actual brainy and masculine functions. Around 13% of the world population is left handed and most of them are genetically gifted with this trait. It’s very easy to find that left handers are exceptional with activities and sports that require hand-eye coordination and are therefore superb at ball sports. People with a dominant right brain are incredibly creative and visual thinkers as well.

Apart from the aura and intimidation that southpaws carry, they also carry something invisible to eyes of a layman – the agony of using items created purely for the use of right handers. Try and observe the tiny objects of daily use and their placement around us and ask yourself this – how would and should this be for a left hander and where would it be placed correctly for him. It is then it’s realized how different and difficult this world is for southpaws. Fortunately though, people and organizations are becoming aware of this and are working towards making their life a tad bit easier. Websites like The Left Hand Shop are creating and sourcing plethora of daily use items for left handers and making them available in India. Check it out, it’s pretty cool actually.

So next time you see a left hander, don’t bore them by asking the same old question –  “Are you a lefty?” Instead just enjoy their demeanor and feel lucky that you are in esteemed company of a gifted individual.

Why So Happy Today?

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Singular Sensation.”

How I wish someone of my taste reads everything I write and tries to know me better. He/She needn’t be a genius. Just a concerned, conforming and an inquisitive person.

I need someone who wants to understand and know the thoughts that occur in my head randomly. They needn’t have the ears but must have the eyes to see through to inside. Every gaze must acknowledge me. It’s not the approval I seek, just a conscious effort to calm a very anxious mind. The nerves that never settle, always need a calming influence. Someone who understands the sweaty palms and the floundering words. The eyes that fail to look into others eyes and the lips that fail to break into a smile.

I just wish for a voice to break into one of my dreams and foretell my path. One that balms every single hurt that pegs me back. Erases the memories of the people who’ve pretended to care for me, never did and never could… simply never had the time. One that makes me forget the people who only remember me on special occasions except for real friends who have my consent to call me when they want to. I just wish for a real well-wisher that can tell me what to do without setting any expectations.

I just wish to laugh again knowing full well that they won’t ask me,”Why so happy today?”

Live Stress Free

The way I am, I prefer to consider that everyone is struggling and are unhappy in their own right. They got lemons and failed to make lemonade out of it, just like I failed on umpteen occasions. Now here’s why I do that:

This way I never mean to do any harm to another human being, at least knowingly. And still there were times when I was made a complete jerk off. My home has often been a shelter for some people who’ve fooled me into believing in their plight. It’s only later when I’ve had time and space to explore their side that I’ve come to know how foolish I really was. But I don’t throw them out, just try and resolve their concerns with me, if any. When they find out, that I know about their truth, they automatically leave out of guilt.

Even then, I believe, till the damage can be repaired I won’t mind sheltering people for I have, in my own right, done a good deed. I also feel this is one way to live stress free, by taking satisfaction in the fact that you’ve done a someone some good and forgetting about it, than pulling the heartache of the betrayal along in life, which eventually is a baggage not worth of our time and energy.

You’re Beautiful

Have you discussed ‘Beautiful‘ with people? I haven’t and I don’t know what beautiful is. No one taught me what beautiful is and I believe no one can. For what’s beautiful for a gazillion, may not be for me and it depends on my mood.

I am not untouched by nature or beautiful people and I’ve seen beauty in few of the rawest and most memorable forms but sometimes I don’t stand even by my word about someone or something being beautiful, leave alone others. Ergo, beauty is subjective to opinions and can never be clearly defined.

What’s beautiful though is this song –

What’s beautiful about the song? The voice and the picture it paints, the strings brush up the picture and the bass fills the colors. So true and clear, here’s what I see:

A girl enters a train with her beau brushing by our guy, revitalizing his senses already dead from the men rubbing him and their smell while he stands by the door. A few minutes later when a jerk from the sudden brakes makes the girl turn around when our guy lays his first sight on her face, and he simply melts, and the song ensues.

I know it’s cheesy but I am in the mood for cheesy!

Let me know your version of the picture this song paints.

JUST BACK OFF!

There’s a saying among us – “Surplus of anything is wrong”!

And I agree to all its versions. It stands true for everything we touch or feel. And as the prompt is about information, I’ll talk about information and how it depreciates all our prior understanding of the topic. And this happens around me all the time. While it’s paramount to understand every aspect of everything that we deal with, over-indulging invariably reduces its charm and often times, its enigma. It’s no longer fun to deal with or indulge in, rather an already boring and mundane task.

But then, some people are built that way. They love discussing and to such an extent that they’ll discuss, till the rubber comes off the tyres, about things that really don’t even blow air on them. They believe in the saying – “All Information is Useful”! Think about the chatter that these morons can make, scares the crap out of me… TRUST ME!

Now think about the pitiable souls (Yours Truly, in this case) that have to hear their discussions day in and day out, about such things. Here’s an example:

Think about discussing properties all day long or stock markets. Both of them deal with your money directly, money that I don’t have and yet have to hear about. I’m buying so-and-so-stock or how about the property on the east wing of a god-forsaken-piece-of-land-that-may-someday-spew-gold!

Trust me, my world revolves around certainty. If it isn’t certain, my interest drops off a cliff. And think about the 100 million worth of properties or 10 million worth of stocks that I don’t have and may never have, and yet have to hear about all day long like senseless crows cawing in my ears. I just can’t care lesser for them.

So please, spare me of the information I don’t need. When my time comes and it definitely will, I may seek you for advice but till then, JUST BACK OFF and leave my ears alone!

Death

Death? Think about it and it feels rather strange. I don’t worry about the aftermath, why should I? I’m dead, aren’t I! But I do have an aging fear of the moment when I meet it. Right when I’m closing my eyes, I think I want peace!

Peace in the thought that I haven’t harmed someone, that the world won’t miss me when I’m gone and the knowledge that the people I loved, loved me back. I think I won’t live very long and I don’t want to, and yet I want to be cared about by the people and things I cared about after I’m gone. I don’t want people to cry around me when I’m dying. I hope the best people of my life get to be around me when I’m dying unless it’s on the road to office or back where all there’ll be are strangers.

Just some thoughts!

XBOX 360 Hostility

It’s become a regular occurrence now. My office installed a set of XBOX 360 and our team is usually the first one to hit it right after lunch. So there we’re sitting having a nice little FIFA 14 session when someone who’s just finished his lunch comes in and asks for a remote. Well HELLOOOO!! Everyone who’s still playing just keeps looking at the screen like the new guy will somehow magically find a playing remote and the other person still has his hands held out like we owe him to let him play.

You see I’m normally the giving type though and I hate situations that make me uncomfortable. So everytime this happens, it’s me that yields and hands over his remote to the new guy. Now all this is fine with me but mustn’t it be courtesy to at least let me know when you’re done playing?

Also there are morons who when not given a remote to play, turn off the console and return to the seat while others are still playing, holding their remotes in their hands, and made to look like complete jerks.

Try working in such hostility and you’ll know what I mean!

5 Things To Do

There is a slew of items I want to get done right now and why I’m not getting them done – NO MONEY! It’s not that I’m poor but past few months have run my accounts dry. Here are the items:

1. Move my current blog to the domain I got registered for myself – http://www.viewsplash.me.

2. Buy a computer table and a proper ergonomic chair to go with it.

3. Buy myself a tablet to keep a regular tab on my WordPress feed.

4. Join a gym or buy a treadmill.

5. Get the air conditioner in my hall repaired.

Now how would these affect me if I get ’em all done?

My new website will be a larger motivation for me to blog regularly. It was always a wish of mine and it’ll be a huge burden off my shoulders to start blogging on a website owned by me.

I need to buy a computer chair that doesn’t let me fold my legs beneath it. I also need to buy a computer table that accommodates my PC better and leaves enough room for books around it. So I can create my own corner in my home, something that remains undisturbed.

I need to buy a tablet so I can start blogging on the move and don’t sit idle when I have time to spare. My current gadget for reading blogs is a 4 inch screen that delivers some real stress on my eyes and a very small touch keyboard for my rather large fingers, also the reason why I don’t text a lot.

I need to build a gymnasium at my home. Something that motivates me to rise early. The place where I live isn’t very ideal for early morning cycling or running, and ergo a gymnasium at home. My health requires some serious attention as my parents are teaching me to be.

I also need to get the air conditioner of my hall repaired. The switch blew off a month ago and I haven’t used it since. But I love my sofa and as it provides some open space for my thoughts, a cooler hall won’t do any harm to me and my dog.

Greys Monotony

The Greys in me, teach me to,

Start putting my happiness first,

Give life my best,

Take life as I have,

Drink coffee when I want.

The Greys on my head, remind me,

That time is luxury I don’t have,

That I still have the world to see,

That I’ve learned a lot,

And yet nothing.

The Greys in me, remind me of the,

Twinkle lost from your eyes.

Smile that once washed your face.

Joy that you sprinkled with every step.

Touch that fluttered my heart.

The Greys in me, tell me,

I’m guilty of robbing that twinkle,

I’m wiping the smile,

I’m trampling the joy,

And I’m now, missing that touch.

Weekly Writing Challenge – Kill Your Darlings

Truth, That Is You!

Quoting from the prompt –

“There is beauty in truth, even if it’s painful. Those who lie, twist life so that it looks tasty to the lazy, brilliant to the ignorant, and powerful to the weak. But lies only strengthen our defects. They don’t teach anything, help anything, fix anything or cure anything. Nor do they develop one’s character, one’s mind, one’s heart or one’s soul.”

– José N. Harris

Trust me, liars get my attention the quickest. Somehow, I smell them but this fickle mind believes that a liar is doing truth the justice when he lies and hence, belies the lie into a truth. It’s his responsibility to lie else truth won’t exist.

The sweeter the lie, the more painful is the truth that reveals it.

Just today, I got talking to a friend and he started with how when we get angry and yell at someone, we invariably feel sorry and yet end up choosing between revealing our guilt or no. He also pointed out the mental process that goes behind the anguish caused by the act and how it invariably lays the foundation to cover up the same angst in future. He was very clear in keeping the anger and the guilt it caused on a balance and how after we first choose the act, we invariably run for the other side – the guilt to keep up a balance derived from nature. And it happens really fast inside the brain, and yet never fails to leave an impression inside. He said that the choice is always clear but the brain, as it is trained to run for an excuse first and think logically later, comes up with a lie.

Guilt, ladies and gentlemen, has a tremendous power – it makes humans look and feel incredibly foolish which means embarrassment ahoy! To escape this, mind has to have plans ready and it thus, keeps a track of everything we do inside our subconscious, so we either don’t act that way altogether or be incredibly nimble in conjuring up a LIE! Not that Your’s Truly isn’t a master at the art, but doesn’t it need a thief to catch another?

Why do we lie? I say, we start to train our mind to hide the truth (guilt in the case above) and consequently lie from a very young age. It doesn’t come naturally to us. Parents never knowingly teach us to lie. Schools impart the correct wisdom, then where is it that liars are born? It all starts at home. We learn from our company. It’s a misconception among parents that their children can’t pay a heed to their lies because they are either too dumb or just don’t give a rats ass. These things are very small, so small that they in fact, must be forgotten and yet leave an impression lasting forever on a child’s mind.

“Hey Jo! Tell the man at the door that I’m not home yet” a boozing father says – Jo learns alibis that he’ll use against everything forever after.

“Hey Jo! Tell your dad I fell on the bathroom floor today and we’ll have to order food from outside and you can go buy your game DVD tomorrow. Here take the money” a lazy mother funnily tries to buy his son. Jo learns to disrespect his father.

“Hey Jo! You can tell your dad that you lost your ball and get money for another one, which we buy burgers with” Jo learns to lie to his parents for a burger that he would’ve anyways got, had he asked for it directly to them. Jo learns thievery.

In all the above cases, lies covered every evil. It seems like a lot of fun working over people to get things done, but this breeds dishonesty and knack for hurting people without knowing it. Lies destroy us – from inside. A lie is livable. It’s a world created in fantasies, bravado, and shining liveries. It hides the pain of the inside but instead of strengthening the soul, lies hollow it eating us everyday. It’s so lucrative and easy, some of us take permanent refuge in the deluge, forgetting that truth makes the soul lighter, stronger, and appreciable. Lies are a façade to our weakness. This mask though, is rotten from the inside. The longer you wear it, the more it disfigures the original identity. Every lie only moves you to away from the truth, truth that is you.

Seeing is Believing

Hate is a strong word isn’t it? Especially when it comes to things you do or get done in a day. I hate none of what I do. I love my job. I like the people around me who work just like me. We have a fun time. I love my home or whatever of a ‘Home’ we’ve made it into. I love my dog. I love my wife and doing stuff for her.

The only thing that ails my soul and which I think is entirely a waste of my time (some may argue it isn’t) is driving to and fro my office. I feel that hour and a half is the least productive time in my day and the best period I can use for my writing if someone drives my vehicle. It isn’t fruitful to my health for all the smoke and dust that enters me, sticks to me, and makes me look like a villager on either end of the journeys. It doesn’t exercise a single muscle of my body and if anything raises my blood pressure. 

And therefore, I want my robot to be a car that drives itself. I know they are still building on this technology and I may never be able to afford one for myself for it may never turn cheap and I know I’ll end up driving my car for my whole life whenever I own one, I want to nurture this dream. I know a lot of you may argue against me sleeping late and waking up late but because we’re talking solely about my comfort, this will be the pinnacle of the technology I wish to own.

The entire commute must get reduced to small phrases – “Driver, drive to my office” or “Driver, drive to my home”. Something voice activated and startable only using a password and it then does all the work itself while I commute hasslefree inside a clean cabin, undisturbed to write all I want. This way I’ll get a thousand other ideas to write about too by simply looking out of the window.

Some may argue, why not take a bus instead which will be cheaper? I say, I hate being around people. Crowd and bad smells simply tick me off. This when clearly, people are my best source of inspiration for thoughts and writing. Every living body feeds my brains with things and teaches me stuff that no books or internet can.

“Seeing is Believing“.

Liar Liar – Pants on Fire

Run around and shout all you want. Raise your volume to decibel levels that make me shut my ears up. All lies are caught. Actually, the louder you are, the faster you run, the more things you throw around, the greater your lie is.

Lies just kill you – everyday. The more you keep your brain occupied with lies, lying, and remembering them, the lesser it thinks of better things. Keep lying and one day you lose all smile, all charm. Plus the constant fear of getting caught by the people who you may actually love and the wrath and indignation that go with all lies. A lie is never alone. A lie comes in groups and serious numbers. So weak is a lie, that it can’t survive without another. And this is only what you are doing to just yourself. Think of what you doing to others! Giving false hopes, false personification, false egos, and falser intelligence – you are not only destroying someones life but probably even robbing them of eventual pride in themselves of making better decisions and making them sulk in self-pity.

The power of truth though destroys all lies. Truth not only makes you a beautiful person, it makes your head clutter-free. You don’t have to remember all that you’ve said before because truth never changes. Its harder to swallow and get your head around but a simple realization and some acceptance turn all gloom to smiles. It makes you stronger. It lets you stand in the crowd and never lets you doubt your ability. You may fall in some eyes for being cruel and heartless but the confidence you impart to others is absolutely critical – both to you and them. Not only will people look up to you for advice and support but the respect you earn doing this is priceless.

Not that I haven’t ever lied to preach so much about truth but I’m changing and these are my first few steps to realize that self-respect is above all respects. This is my attempt to mend my reputation and gain further trust. I’m being brutal. I’m letting it all rip out from my heart always remembering that hiding the truth too is a form of lying and yet, not everyone needs to know everything about me. Sharing does relieve your heart but it also reduces the value of some of your cherished memories.

Speak the truth, for none can embrace you like you can.

The Story Of A Lemon Race

“Did someone just POOP?”.

I dreaded/dodged this question for an awfully long time during my childhood. Well let me just admit it – I had weak bowels! I suffered disasters when none expected them and hence, the QUESTION. Those, who’ve borne witness to those grotesque scenes will admit that my primary school days weren’t very kind to me, and to them.

The issue as of today stands CORRECTED and hence, no qualms exist!!!

However relieving this embarrassing announcement is, announcing “IT” isn’t the primary aim of this post. But then, it also isn’t the aim of this blog, to find old classmates. In a rather surprising turn of events, Hina, my classmate from one of my primary schools, dropped me a warm message a few days ago and I couldn’t help but let you people in on it. I haven’t felt so thrilled in ages. You can find her comment in the link below –

Unforgettable Past – ITARSI – The Escapade

She not only remembers the characters in the post but she also was kind enough to let me know, how great our school really was during those days of limited resources and how exactly she stumbled upon my blog. She was searching for the name of our school and that’s how she came across Views Splash. Not only does the search thing on Google work, it actually provides my blog in search results too – amazing, isn’t it!

What I do want to share with you today though, is how I cheated for the first time (that I can remember of). It was nearing evening when our school decided to hold games for all the classes the next day and a messenger announced it in every class in those email-less days. I can’t recall clearly but think I participated in a couple of events, one of which was the “Lemon Race”. After being told to bring a spoon for the race, I was explained how the race is run. The contestants hold their spoons in their mouth using the handle and place the lemon on the curve and run without dropping the lemon. Whoever crosses the finish line first, wins!

I went home and told my mother about it. We sat for dinner when I saw my brother suckle at his favorite spoon and an idea struck the dead neurons in my brain. The spoon you see was quite broad at the handle and had a rather deep oval.

“This will definitely suffice my need” and so I thought.

After the dinner, I picked the spoon, placed a lemon on it, pursed the handle of the spoon between my lips and ran. The lemon fell after a few steps. I ran again and the lemon fell.

“This isn’t working”.

I tried again to check my fault and it turned out, the oval was doing its job correctly at the front but the lemon jumped ship from the back i.e. the handle end. So I worked with the spoon a bit and lifted the oval of the spoon to roughly 165 degrees with the handle which further deepened the spoon and gave the lemon a resting arm. I ran again and this time the lemon didn’t fall off. Now I happily awaited the next day to check out my competition and see how everyone else was faring with their spoons and whether there were any tricks used like I had.

The next evening arrived and the event-o-clock struck. As I went around casually checking everyones spoons, I found they hadn’t tinkered the slightest with the spoon. I started feeling guilty the moment I hit the finishing line in the first place. I saw everyone and only one other boy had managed to finish with rest trying to figure out where their lemons scurried to.

I won a plate, with a rather uncomfortable conscience, and yet I was still proud, not for winning the competition though. I was proud for I tried something different with my brain, something I wasn’t really used to. Regarding the guilt, I guess I was so small then that, it was better I left the guilt at the finishing line.

The reason for this post is 2-fold –

1. Weekly Writing Challenge – Memoir Madness. I now proudly say that –

“When life gave me lemons, I won a lemon race”.

2. The link between my confession in the first part of the post and the second is the friend who found me. A lot of school memories came flooding back and I shared two of those with you, the ones that really turned some of my early ways. It shows how embarrassment and guilt are some of the ingredients I’ve dealt with in my recipe called Life.

When I Die Everyday

Alarm plays.

Life calls,

Bed befalls.

Ground is cold.

Feet complain.

Groan escapes.

Swiped eyes,

Search for light,

Ache in the torso,

Reminds me of the years left.

Wish I turn back time,

To create a rhyme,

That’s all mine.

An unflustered unsung melody.

That I hum in my shower.

———-*********————

Described in fifty words above is the moment when some of me dies and some of me is born everyday.

Posted for Fifty – Word Inspiration.

Inspired by my day and Little Matters.

My Fifty Word post – Story Of My Life

Here are the current entries for this week’d writing challenge –

1. ALIEN AURA’S BLOG: IT’LL BLOW YOUR MIND!Inspiration – and stimulation!
2. Under the Monkey TreeInspiration from the Past
3. In my worldIn the beginning there were Fifty words
4. BumblepuppiesThe Letter G Insults My Intelligence
5. shivansh chaudharyIn no time, time flies by!
6. gillybirdsInspiration
7. The Finicky CynicFifty-Word Inspiration (#JuneJour Challenge, Day 15)
8. The Things I Yell at My Television…Fifty
9. PSEUDOMONAZNow That You Are Gone
10. Chasing A Dream“Fifty”:”Unexpected”
11. Following My JoyYou Left
12. eternal DomnationSush
13. theempathyqueenThe Teenage Years in Fifty Words
14. jscottiblogNicky and the Girl in the Yellow Sundress
15. If Crazy Fits Wear ItFifty Word Inspiration – Disappointment
16. I’ve Got A StoryWallflower
17. Reject RealityThe Kiss
18. The Uncustomary HousewifeThe Bipolar Mind: In Fifty Words
19. The Uncustomary HousewifeA Fifty Word Recipe to Saving the World, Almost.
20. bodhisattvaintrainingdaily post writing challenge
21. Scattered ThoughtsWP Writing Challenge : 50 Words Fiction
22. lifespinkyHe Didn’t Leave … Me
23. Meaningful Mommy“Unexpected…becoming a mother”.
24. The Seminary of Praying MantisTold destiny continues
25. Mad Meandering MeWeekly Writing Challenge: Fifty Words Inspiration
26. Dance With MadnessDrifting
27. Short…but not always so sweetStretching the Dollar (50 words)
28. stepin2purposeThe Will to Move
29. tnkerr-Writing Prompts and PracticeDid I Say That Right?
30. Musings of a Random Mindlove isn’t forever
31. wandering story tellerLove at first sight
32. The Persian FlawRemnants Of A Lake
33. helen meikle’s scribblefestWeekly challenge: It’s all as inspiring as a cracked bell
34. tuckedintoacornerFifty Words
35. Project MomentarilyHope in the dark
36. Love Happy Notes – Daily Fun and InspirationYesterday’s Hero
37. Love Happy Notes – Daily Fun and InspirationA Life to treasure
38. Love Happy Notes – Daily Fun and InspirationA better life
39. Love Happy Notes – Daily Fun and InspirationYOU ARE A WINNER!
40. Love Happy Notes – Daily Fun and InspirationThe Wild Ones
41. Love Happy Notes – Daily Fun and InspirationDoggie stompin’ on Fear
42. Joie De VivreElliot
43. theimaginariumofkitti’s BlogButterflies
44. Chronicles of an Anglo SwissWeekly Writing Challenge – The Death of a Jabberwock

The Perfect Thing

Oh man! It’s been so long when I last wrote, I can’t remember these settings too! Truthfully, there are multiple rivers flowing above my head and the crazy part is I don’t yet feel like drowning. Eyes shut tight, breathless as I am, I’m ready to wait forever to let the water ebb. The rivers aren’t disturbing me. They are deafening me – a sensation I’ve yearned for, for far too long.

As I pick up my keyboard, I feel a sudden rush of adrenaline and tingle running up and down my spine. I’m at the top of my senses. I see better with my eyes closed tight shut. I feel deprived. And there’s certain fun in chasing things that make you weak. A pleasure in guilt. But then there’s so much I want and I am confused. Which one first? Not that I have all means to get everything I’ve ever wanted, so being patient is my best option. See how things pan out and be ready for all that life has to offer me.

This is where I wake up, see things, feel stifled, and curl back into my bed. This is when life sucks when I’m brought back to my reality, a harsh harsh world. But I have my keyboard still firm in my hand and I feel relieved, for my escape to extraordinaire persists. A door remains. This is my setting for that illusionary perfect write-up.

Good Morning Everyone!

… On The Road #3 – SAMROADING

Many people will give you many a advice about what speed to drive at in varying traffic conditions. Some say drive at a speed that suits your style and reflexes. Some say that always have patience and be slow, for there’s an accident always awaiting round the corner.

I say – drive at the speed of the traffic! Not necessarily tucked behind someones back but maintain some distance and keep a check that you aren’t getting left behind while also ensuring that you don’t start to lose your concentration if they increase their pace.

Most accidents on the road occur because you are either too slow or too fast. Too slow and you get bumped from behind by someone moving even at mediocre speeds. Too fast and you all know where they go! 🙂

What the aforesaid advice also does is, keeps your brain free from a lot of unnecessary clutter clouding your brain – “What will I have for lunch”, “Will I get home early and have sex tonight” or “I wonder if I want to see my boss’s face today” and bla bla! This way you are kept moderately busy while you can hog a chocolate when the traffic gets slower in city conditions whereas on the highways, better have chocolates at some restaurants! 😀

Today’s daily prompt gave me an idea to name this series of posts about how to go about driving in this mad rash world of hateful drivers – SAMROADING!

So SAMROADING says, never rush and ALWAYS LISTEN TO DEEP PURPLE!

… On The Road #2

Do not overtake someone only to slow down right in front of him. This is the most annoying thing you do while driving! Not only are you wasting a lot of someones time, you are also garnering a lot of negative praises that are hitting your back and may also be true! 😉

But then, there is never any harm in knowing the truth, is there?

Hope when WE met!

This one’s easy – it’s my wife!

I remember the restaurant

I remember the hue

I remember the dreamy silhouette that was you!

You appeared from the lights

And blew mine away.

All I saw was you

That smile in the fray.

We talked and talked

For hours and hours

Your career and mine

For an unsurpassable length of time.

Till we were caught dreaming

By our Dads screaming!

 

Crotchety Chump

Don’t we all want happy faces around us all the time? We are all selfish and in turn want to share the communicable cheerfulness to brighten our own days. Grumpy looking people often make for a bad viewing and… company. Happy people share jokes, make us laugh, spread positive energy with their infectious smiles, and even make some unhappy ones seriously jealous. But have you ever thought why some of us are permanently grumpy? Don’t you think that they too want to flex their cheek muscles at least once every day and smile for a change?

Yes, I am grumpy. I’m told by people that there are, at max, 4 expressions that they’ve seen me wearing. I haven’t practiced them in the mirror. I just look that way. It’s, in all practicality, impossible for me to stay happy and smile all the time, for from time to time, the realities of life keep dawning upon me. Earlier my problem was I wanted to keep everyone else happy. I failed! Then someone, a few years back, told me to start thinking about myself and now my problem is I want to keep myself happy. I’m not fairing any better here as well. My sofa needs cleaning. I need new mattresses. I need a new seating arrangement for my PC at home, new chair and table, more ergonomic. I need to get the engine on my bike repaired and blah blah! I know you don’t want to hear it but that’s precisely how grumpy people talk, BEAR IT!

So what exactly does grumpy mean?

– Bad-tempered and sulky.

– Crabbed; annoyed and irritable.

Synonym – Crotchety!

Just like the way happy and cheerful people have days when they are sad and depressed, we, the grumpy ones; have days when we are Happy and Cheerful for once. It’s difficult for us to leave our comfort zone. Deep down we love the way people hate us, despise us, want to hurt our face so bad, that we look even grumpier. But that’s where we WIN every day. For no one hits us. No one can do a shit about the way we look or behave. All that they can do is look away which is precisely what we want – no attention! It serves me better that I’m introvert as well.

There are several emotions, aren’t they? We sift through plethora of them every day – from happy to sad or angry or empathetic in matter of seconds. It’s these emotions that often drive our moods. These emotions change the way we perceive our world, see its colours, and hear its sound – basically change the way we feel it.

What I find most interesting though is how some emotions bring out the best in you while some doom you to obscurity. These emotions impact our will to achieve like no other person ever can. They impact our state of mind and the vibes coming from us in general. These emotions are quite distractingly very visible and are quite in-your-face.

My mother has one such emotion – anger. She cooks her best food when she is angry. Me and dad used to secretly wish for her to get upset and then cook (psst psst we still wish so). It used to start with an argument between them that I’ll never understand. They never made sense to me. They were so – worldly. Dealing with day-to-day issues that anyone of them could resolve in the blink of an eye. Anyways – food and anger! Yes, this is one complaint my mother always has when she is angry – she keeps saying she hates cooking. That how she hates every moment spent in the kitchen and yet, when she sees dad set the first foot across the threshold of its entrance to cook himself, she’ll jump in and prepare some of the tastiest drool-worthy delicacies, a human will ever taste – all in a fit of rage and knowledge that dad will ruin everything inside the kitchen. The chances of her screwing up the food then drastically reduce to zero. I think most women will relate to this feeling!

And that brings me to my question – what’s the emotion that brings out the best in you?

Mine is anger and I guess this is something my mother has unknowingly rubbed onto me. I think clearer when I’m angry. I say better when I’m angry. My focus dramatically increases even when I’m venting out my anger on something completely unrelated to the real problem. I invariably end up doing all the right things when my hands are shivering with angst. The only problem is – that’s also the only time I’m thinking just for myself and in those on-the-thread moments, I end up hurting a few people.

Okay, then what’s the emotion that brings out the worst from you?

Mine is happiness. Yes, that’s the reason I’m grumpy. Happiness brings out my concern for others which in today’s world, is quite unappreciated. People start to think that I’m interfering with their lives when in the first place they are the ones sitting in my home, sipping beers, and sharing the sorry state of their sorry ass world with me – the most unconcerned person on this planet. People for some reason don’t understand genuine sympathy or empathy now. They fail to acknowledge an unselfish concern for their well-being but who can blame them. We all get ditched so many times and in so many ways, we can’t even rely upon ourselves to trust others and find their true motives, rest aside the chances of us believing anyone else for our good.

I guess I’m searching for unadulterated love, for my love even for myself isn’t enough pure!

Happiness or Elation?

A sense unknown.

A perception.

A smile resulting from a smile.

A story so cute, you can’t shut the teller up.

A moment so selfless.

A sensation so unadulterated.

A pet pal, overjoyed at your return.

A wife sleeping so sound.

A face so calm yet sure.

A heartfelt greeting.

A voice that whispers in your ears in the morning – “Wake up sweet heart!”.

A joke that tickles the child in you.

A note that fills your day with bloom.

A song that parallels the days feeling.

An inspirational moment.

A moment of pure genius.

A tear of peace from silence in the heart, in the mind, in the air.

That’s Happiness for me.

Whatever it is, it’s definitely a feeling I forgot a long time back, and I can only guess if that’s happiness I remember. That night of rejoice, of yelling till the throat hurt, of hugs, of tears, of satisfaction. These days, elation simply causes high blood pressure. I can’t breathe. It’s been so long that things went my way, simple enough granting of wish sounds like happiness.

Is elation, happiness? Is happiness a milder form of elation?

Here are the definitions from the web for the two words –

Elation –

an exhilarating psychological state of pride and optimism; an absence of depression.

Happiness –

state of well-being characterized by emotions ranging from contentment to intense joy.

I think both point towards an absence of depression. Just that elation specifically involves a sense of “ME” where happiness is a general term for a plethora of emotions that may or may not involve a smile. What do you think?

Riding the Tides

You know, there are things that we do over and over again for a considerable period of our life and then, someday we stop doing them, for whatever reasons. We never know if they were for good or bad, for they in their time never held any meaning. Then one day we stop doing them. All  they give us are memories, some cherishable and some not so.

The one thing I’m doing ever since I learnt to control handles and balance, is ride. Ride, to and fro, carrying people at my back.

The 2-wheelers that I’ve used are –

1. BSA SLR – Bicycle.

2. Kinetic Luna Super Star – A bicycle with an engine, a clutch and accelerator.

3. Hero Puch Shakti 3G – A mini demon. The smallest geared bikes with the smallest of engines – a mere 65CC.

4. You’ve all already met my 4th companion, Bajaj Pulsar 180CC – One of the oldest and proudest giants in the history of Bajaj sporting bikes in India. Without it, I’m lost.

During my schooling and engineering, my brother rode as my pillion. They were fun times. Nothing except the rides changed over the years. From bicycle to Luna to Shakti, that part of our life is one the longest case of the association between brothers and their rides. We rode for long hours and I don’t remember him, even once, asking me to let him ride. He was happy and content, at the back, watching the world and giving all sorts of running commentary, describing the surroundings. Watching girls, eateries, escaping seniors, riding in the rain – through love and through fight, those days will forever remain fresh.

There was one instance when while returning from our school, it was raining really hard. I decided to have some fun and starting riding through puddles of rainwater, which soaked all of his shoes from the inside. I kept doing it, when in a fit, he opened his water bottle and emptied it straight into my shoes, and all this 60 kmph. We laughed all the way to our home. One of the happiest memories I have with him.

We’ve had our share of accidents as well, when in all the occasions, he jumped off well before the fate hit us. He is thankfully smart in those situations when I’m not. Twice in those accidents, I hair-cracked my left shoulder. But they never deterred me

Then my ride changed to Pulsar and the speed at which I normally rode changed. I remember once, when he was in Bangalore, spending time on bench in his company, I used to drop him to his office. We used to take the ‘Nice’ road. It was one clean and zero traffic road, 16 kms in length. We reached 120 kmph one day. He simply closed his eyes and felt the speed while I just enjoyed the fastest that I had ever ridden, things passing by me in time smaller than the blink of an eye. I miss those moments.

Then came my wife, and so changed my speed. All she ever has said about my riding is – “You are the only one with whom I don’t try to balance the bike”. I clearly am her favorite!

Riding is also the time, I think about my life the most. I contemplate all serious issues, when I’m seated on my bike. I have my commentary running for all that while. “Government must ban all women and old drivers”, “Why the fuck does everyone change their lines at the last moments”, “What happened to them indicators” yada yada.

And then there’s my favorite song by Joe Satriani – “Ride” – that defines some philosophies of my life –

This clearly is my favorite daily ritual!

Hope

A belief is a strange concept isn’t it? And today’s prompt brings me to an even pivotal question – what do you believe in?

In all the unkindness of life, the only gift I’ve received is a belief in myself. People ask me – “What’s it that pushes you to the write everyday? What’s it that those invisible people give you?”.

My reply is simple – “What, in all your glorious presence, have you ever given me?”.

These answers were hard to come by. I’d rather have withstood the harsh words and satire, sipped on the bitter pills, and slouched into my bed. Not now. I now see hope. I now see acceptance. I now see feedback. I now feel a renewed energy and motivation, not to just run through my days like a dead bat and in the process gain, learn, acknowledge, and foremost converse.

It’s not just an empty drum aimlessly rolling in a desert. This drum is now ploughing its own road. Before I sleep every night, I now make mental notes of the numbers on my blog, the direction in which it is headed and its true purpose. I live in it. The world outside is slowly dying a painful death while the world inside now has little leaves popping out. Clear, green, fresh, and satiating the hunger of a burnt heart.

The boat of hope in my heart is finally afloat!

Baptized in the River

I read this prompt and the first question that popped in my tiny tired little brain at 11:45 pm in the night was – what do they mean by prized? And I slept over it.

The morning held further questions. Is it something you won as a prize but holds no meaning in your life for it’s a mere trophy? Is it something that makes you feel prized? Is it an object? Is it a feeling? Is it a perception? Is it a universal truth? Shouldn’t it hold value in your life?

So I decided to go through some prompts and I realized being ‘prized’ is a mere perception. The word makes us realize its virtue from both sides. The answer to all my questions above is a sweet and simple ‘YES’.

So what is my prized possession? Something I learned from a lot of mortifying years of anarchy in my thoughts. Freedom!

Freedom of space, speech, and foremost thoughts! I’m unafraid.  Confusion and betrayal have given me the name of the only person to trust on this planet and since, I’m never leaving this planet before my death, that name is mine! Trust no one. And it is this trust, that gives my thinking a new and distinguished sense of freedom.

I crossed many a rivers to mentally reach where I am today. I started to write. There is nothing more that I can do to erase all self-doubt. And here is a song that truly expresses my freedom –

Baptized in the river – Yes, I am!

P.S. – Is it OK if I use baptized for purified the way I did here?