In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Flangiprop!.”
All families have a nasty little habit of renaming things and people around them. We do it based on certain special characteristics of the thing or person. I’ve done some renaming myself. I call myself ‘SAM’, my wife ‘BACHCHA’ (meaning kiddo). I renamed my dog and he has plenty of names – ‘BOBO’, ‘DOMBU’, ‘BUCHU’, ‘DEEBO DAABO’, ‘SHREKA’, ‘OMBO’ when his actual name is Shrek.
So… I’ll assign the word ‘Flangiprop’ to my dog dancing with a hoop around his belly. Seems kind of funny… Think about it – Shrek rotating his belly with a hoop around it – ‘Flangiprop’.
The word in a sentence – I saw my dog ‘Flangipropping’ today!
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Lazy Learners.”
I think I may have looked like this guy a couple of times while walking down the streets, metal banging deep into my ear drums – crazy enough that I would just not jump in the air to relieve the rush. It must have started in my toddler years when I started counting beats and moving my wrists and ankles to every beat.
I have no clue when this crazy habit turned into a long held and suppressed passion. Yes, I’m talking about drumming. Yearnings often have a strange way to fill voids around you. They just simply pop up when you are least prepared for them. You’d have no money, no resources, no motivation to start a new chapter. But this is how and when life throws you tests to check if you’re still that kid who’d give anything to hit a six on the first ball of every over, to take a wicket with the first ball that you bowl – to test your zeal.
It came and went by, multiple times – the opportunity to start drumming. I’d have no money or the studio would be far or I’ll simply be lazy enough to not let even an earthquake move me from my bed and each time it felt like I missed a train and with it, the journey to all good and adventurous things. And when I think about it now, all the while I was simply avoiding the journey to start finding myself and my truer purpose.
I have this crazy habit of killing myself and my ambitions before building new ones. It starts with a simple and an insignificant compromise made in the name of benevolence wherein I’ll give my chocolate away or skip a pizza to provide for a cab ride for my wife. You know it’s these kind of things that birth a lackadaisical attitude. I have a tendency to wait for opportune moments to arrive when I’ll best savor the pleasures that I indulge in. But sadly, it has never served me well, or that’s how feel right now – left behind, cowering from the harsh realities of this world.
I’m evolving as all things do. And with it I’m learning the important factor that governs all things – TIME. And as each moment passes me by, this incredible urge to finish all that’s yet incomplete is killing all the patience I’ve accumulated in my 30 years past. It feels that I must miss no train again. And if it means losing something precious, so be it, for all good things that you do for yourself compensate for other good things that aren’t really high on longevity.
So now when I play inside the jamming room and the calf muscles start to burn, I think about all the times I have ditched this pleasure – my pleasure in order to pleasure others. Now I don’t get scared when I hold those two sticks between my fingers. I’m just starting (3 classes young) but the encouragement I get from my teacher is enough to let me return to my home with a well earned smile. This, my friends, is true happiness. Nothing surpasses it!!!
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?”
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Journey.”
The time of hope and persistence, honesty and dread, karma and belief, brought with it a surreal series of change. Break it down – the time into fragments, for each is as magnificent in its own right, a bag full of teachings, shining brightly upon my path. That path and where it leads, I know not.
The all-knowing, all giving power that rises within us in times of desperation – is like lights beside the runway to guide not just the stable but more so, the unstable planes. Nothing teaches us more about ourselves than such times of desperation. I learnt a lot.
Yes I was scared. Yes I was confused. Yes the pain in the heart was ever bearing and the brain, paralysed. Yet every stone that hurt me, only powered me, to go that much further. To look for my destiny. To smile at the sight of the end of the earth and sky, that horizon, which I knew would someday be mine.
Desperation when used properly is possibly the greatest tool we can own. Enough of it makes us fearless, uncaring. It shows us the true strength of our character. It gives us clarity on the decisions we make. It guides us to that juncture where we either rise or fall. It stretches us beyond our limits to possibly achieve the unthinkable, or get us ever closer to that “Eureka” moment.
The simplest formulae to tapping and reaping from even the rough times is to say to yourself – “these trying times are another bundle of opportunities”. And believe in it. Keep repeating it to yourself and condition yourself to just do the right thing, the humane thing. There are a million wolves waiting for your shivering carcass to show through your thinning skin but don’t care, don’t bother. I met my long cherished goal after walking on a daunting and humiliating path that forever shamed my self-respect and yet I rose and came through.
It doesn’t shame me now, to proclaim that I went through the mud to reach that Lotus and the effort I put into it. To have got my hands dirty in a coal mine to get to that Diamond. Life seems so complete now and how I wish it would last forever the same way with no further hiccups but then, that wouldn’t be fun, will it?
Bring it on!
Amidst these day dreams and winding roads,
The burning asphalt trail,
Dodging this game between sun and shadows,
The fear turns my face pale.
Leaving an inaudible world behind,
I make a screeching right,
To stop and fight.
I end up tricking my anguish and life apart,
The light at the end of my tunnel was now shining bright.
The burden off my back and shoulders to start,
I see the plains and the green that await me open and wide.
Guess this is what they mean when they say,
Grass is always greener on the other side.
My world has no discrimination,
It isn’t bathed in fear –
Of being looked down upon,
Of the unknown.
Of that parasite under the carpet,
Of death underneath that living breathing carcass,
Of running and gunning for that ever elusive prize.
When all that I came in and will leave with,
Is a soul.
A self-nurturing yet powerless form,
Misunderstood and unanswered.
I like to think of these chills as
My soul trying to shrug off the uncertainties,
A way for it to relax in this chaos that embraces my body like skin,
A way for it to absorb the vivid forms and colors of nature,
Air water sun and all.
I like to think of each day as another passing glance,
Over that field of opportunities,
To feed this soul,
To do 1 good thing for that solitary beacon of hope that truly belongs to me,
That one trustworthy mate that teaches you,
The difference between good and evil,
Right and wrong,
Pleasure and pain,
Want and need…
See that road?
Flanked by fields of ashes of all that the dead ones touched.
See those corpses walking?
All in their ties and suits.
That swanky walk,
The elusive persona,
Light as feather, silky smooth.
Those deep hollow eyes,
The tiny black holes,
Still wanting, still needing,
Thirsty for more, hungry for more,
Their eyes meet yours.
They think they talk,
A shriek in pain is what you hear,
Crying, craving for attention,
To find an undeserving place in your life,
Pleading for an exception,
To a rule, this one rule of your existence,
“Live and let live”.
I just look away,
Like you aren’t even there,
Like you’re dead,
Like my past.
P.S. – YES! You are dead to me if you won’t let me live.
From being an addict to a neat sober life, from being a couch potato to burning my muscles again, from losing my job to regaining one in one of the largest MNCs in India, having to plan for an overhauled life when there’s none left in my soul. I’m fighting each day and every hour of my existence, for revival of my body and soul. I’m living better, I’m eating better. Striving to host a chapter that powers me to dream of happiness, completeness, an error free foray into being who I want to be. I’m dying to see if I’ve learnt from my mistakes. It’s history repeating itself to test me, break me, shake me, wake me up from my slumber. For the past few months, change has been the only constant.
My attitude has changed. Never once did I think of running away even while perfectly knowing the agony each phase brings with it. For the first time I’m ready to give life a chance to come to me. For the first time I’m giving myself a chance to roll with whatever life dishes out, to fly with the wind, even snowball. Never once did I say “NOW WHAT?”.
In December, they told us to start looking elsewhere for a job for the project here had ended but they’d try to absorb us in. In January they hinted they won’t absorb us for the sake of well-being of both the company and my career. I thought it was a very valid and wise move. I have way too much experience to get absorbed in a team where people of nearly half my experience would work above me only because I didn’t have hands on their technology.
To me though, it gave a chance to get out into the world and to see if I’m any better than the man who joined this company nearly 5 years ago, to test my skills, to gauge my self-worth, yet again. For some adventurous reason, I rather relished this challenge and instantly knew I had to leave for my betterment. Both, the company and I, had realized that moving on was the better option for each of us.
This is the new, aged me. The earlier, the younger me would have tried busting their balls for having sacked me, for I had way to much ego. I’m learning to think past my ego and think of all the betterment that any opportunity brings. I’m letting people stay themselves around me. In short I’m trying and giving up my inner force that made me change people around me. I’m letting them come to me. I’m letting life engulf me in its arms. I’m not afraid of leap-of-faiths anymore. I’m running full seasons, gaining new leaves while shedding the useless and old ones.
Moving to a new city offers me an opportunity to start from scratch again. Not only will it give me a chance to meet new people, it’ll also give my wife a chance to settle down at a place that she knows and loves. We’d together forget the horrors we faced in Delhi. This time we are wiser, capable of paying our bills from day one and free of all debt. Oh yeah I forgot to tell you all, I’m finally free from all debts and it is so relieving. 😀
I’m so passed my past now. While I waited for my offer from my new employer, life also threw me a chance to get even with my past. A chance to understand that I was never wrong, for all I’d done was lose a battle of love. I now know what happened, had culminated to a better today and an even better tomorrow.
This waiting period also threw me a chance to get out of this country for a while and land in a place that has forever intrigued me – United States of America. I got to witness the miracle of a new-born baby. I’m so happy for you brother! I got to see a culture far advanced than ours. A thinking not swallowed by petty religion & caste. The ability to talk to and smile at strangers. I got to see the affluent middle class that’s provided for by the government in ways Indians are still dreaming about. We are so unwilling to learn. I got to see the real order, not the one borne by chaos. I got to see a willingness to accept laws and a hesitation to break them for it may harm another human being. I got to drink better hazelnut frappes. I inhaled fresh clean air in the middle of the town, oh how much I miss it back here!
Future is about smart choices, about creating better opportunities, and working hard to bring them to fruition. It’s about learning to adapt and curb your instincts to see past your preferred options and your preparation to dive into a better realm that provides foundations for better plans and people & resources to execute them . I can finally back myself to think positive and not worry about failures for I’ll never miss a chance to learn and grow and become the man who dictates the wellbeing of his loved ones. I grow!
A ruffle of your hair,
The eyes of the feigning clappers,
Eyes that ooze jealousy when your name is read out.
A pat on the back,
A sudden turn of the heads,
Heads still bewildered while you answered first.
The adoring parents,
Shouting out loud in the audience,
Realizing their son played a role none in the crowd was capable of.
Those happy rides home,
After the parents teachers meet,
The opportunity to brag.
A peck on the cheek,
A kiss on the lips,
For she can’t hold herself back anymore.
She has to give in,
For she doesn’t see anyone but you,
A trusted beloved to share her life and love with.
As it turns out, my rewards are hardly derived from my elation. They are compounded by the emotions people around me portray through their actions. Anyone else recognize themselves through this post?
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Transporter.”
A lot has changed. From the time when a tiny boom box painted the rainbow of sounds across our home, as it churned out melodies after melodies on the radio and cassette player, to today when I have my sound at my fingertips. The smell of food that filled my heart will forever remain attached to the sounds I heard then. I see my mother in the kitchen, now and then. One ever so busy mother, with a job at hand, making sure all’s in order for lunch while me and my brother freshen up and change into regular clothes.
The table cleaned, waiting for a flurry of dishes be placed on it, to embrace them, to taste the curries that filled them. The table loved us. While we dearly waited for my dad to arrive, on his scooter, “Priya”, the sound of which got everyone into action. The table, all dressed, invited the hungry ones. Hungry ones always found the way. What would normally start out as lunch with sun-filled eyes ended in a blur. Somehow I don’t remember a single thing I did after lunch, probably clean the table and sleep was all I did till my pretense of being grown up finally showed through – then I studied, had to, never knowing why.
Today, while I wait for my maid to ring my doorbell and prepare what SHE calls food, I recall those afternoons, for I took them lightly, for they may never happen again. Such sweet memories and each one has a song for it. Like a straw that flows, I’ve seen a lot along the way, things appalling and shambolic, things that make me hum tunes, from the distant past. Tunes I won’t forget. Some Things change and how and Some never can!
Here is one of those tunes that reminds me of those lunches, the siestas and the pretense I now call “Studying” –
This is where I stalled. The best I can describe my absence with, is I’ve been on a journey for a while. A journey to self-destruction and resurrection. A journey to see my ends. A journey to know the truth and self-worth, to live a tale worth telling. And it has come at a price. I’m lost. I’ve lost.
The burden of responsibility now forbids my senses to feel again, see again, hear again, think again. I fail to see how I got here. All that I am is truth. This is all I can be and yet I fail myself and others. The pain of understanding the world and people around me has got the worse of me. It’s becoming difficult to embrace myself for who I am. Because it’s dark. I’ve seen it. Something that’ll swallow me whole. I can feel things building inside me and they are a lot of weight to carry. The days are heavier and nights are sullen. I’m a ticking time bomb and time is close when I’ll explode. An explosion that will blow up their happiness to pieces and no one, not even me, knows what that’ll do to KING “ME”.
The ingredients of goodness inside me are depleting fast. I’ve got to come out. For inside me is burning anger. Case in point are these sudden urges to beat myself up. These urges occur when I’m happy about something specific or when I’ve sated myself. It’s not uncommon for me to feel bliss in pain but earlier, these feelings had a time and place. Not now. They just take over me and then possess me for days and days.
I’m different these days – angrier, surprisingly vociferous and scornful. I’ve always been different. My interests were different. I enjoyed pain and this is something I’m particularly proud of. I intentionally venture into the darker side when I’m aware of joys in brightness. But this tendency is at it’s peak now. I’ve started keeping myself on the edge. I break into moods I’m very unaware of. Life has become a game of hide and seek. Seeking while I’m hiding, in plain sight, yet creating thunders for myself and enjoying them.
I’m trying to find the psychology behind my actions that sometimes seem downright foolish. I’m forgetting more, trying to remember less and yet my dreams play out the drama for me, every night. Libation seems fruitless. So I tried exercising, trying to burn out all my excess energy, so I can remain calmer. It worked for a while, while the pain persisted. Once that went, so did the workouts. And now I’m free again with all that unburnt energy and no pain. It’s all like Forrest Gump. I do things without knowing why I’m doing them. Like these orders were etched inside my brain to be carried out now.
The song above describes me aptly. King Me – try looking for it’s meaning and you’ll get a number of absurd and pervasive results. I have my version too and it goes something like this – It’s a state of a narcissistic mind. One that’s trying to indulge for itself. It’s keeping yourself so high and untouchable, that a connect is almost impossible. It’s destructive. It makes you see and feel things, makes you sway from your path.
Why does King Me kill me? It’s because the world functions on people. People and things are the world. And when I can’t see beyond myself, I hurt others. Only in my case, since I have no one else to hurt, and so I hurt myself. I put myself through paces that are laid on death bed. And it burns. I have the marks – deep and unforgiving. People often tell me that I need to talk more but with what I have and what I do with it, my words fail me too.
That’s for a post later. Right now – Merry Christmas!!!! I’m looking forward to a new year filled with a lot of fresh opportunities and pain, because without pain, there’s no gain!
I can’t really recall if what I’m going to talk about was my summer vacation or the start of long Dussehra holidays in October.
What I remember clearly though, is the sweltering heat, the yellow iron gate guarding our yard, my brother who had playfully climbed on top of the gate while me and my mum stood by the front door watching him play.
Now let me describe that yellow gate – it brought a unironed symphony to our home. It was a pale yellow, sturdy, 2-flanked metal structure that opened directly out to the beauty of the world. When it opened, the hinges creaked in a staccato rhythm. The 2 flanks hinged on iron rails on both sides, upholding the fence on either side. Looking from where I and my mom were seeing it, the left flank of the gate was lower than the right, leaning in from the top edge where they met (or should’ve met). Which meant that when the gate was shut using the latch on the top, it left ample gap at the bottom for stray dogs to wander in and out of our lawn, absolutely unhindered, an opportunity not many dogs missed considering the ginormous mango tree in our yard for the shade. Not that they really needed a gap, for the gate had rectangles cut out inside it, ones that made the gate, a practical sham!
Why am I talking about the gate? It’s this gate that I often dream about. One that opens to someplace unknown. Having yet to feel and cross it, the gate seems like it’s built of grey smoke only to fool my eyes. The fear of everything covered in orange haze/smoke on the other side, numbs my legs like I’m magically flying. When I look around, I find myself on an abandoned railway platform. The trains chugging pass fast and in huge numbers, watched only by a pair of eyes waiting for a trigger, but nothing happens. Nothing ever happens!
I often wonder what the dream means? Am I scared of abandoned railway stations? Am I scared of orange smoke? Do I love my legs so much that I fear for my life having no sensations in them?
Or is it my place of zen where I wish to be all the time?
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.
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!
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.
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.
Sometimes I wonder what attracts you more to me, a love for the unknown? A love for the hatred I have for the world? Curiosity for the time unknown? Unseen acts of horror, unprecedented valor, or kindness?
I feel you touch a piece of me everyday but never whole. The tingle that wakes up my sensations, often leaves my soul wanting for more. I get you one finger pore at a time and with each touch, the yearning for wholeness turns my skin inside out. Why can’t I have you more? Why don’t I get you more?
Can’t blame you though, my readers, for we are all travellers in the same boat. Kids, wife, parents, office, home, horrifying relatives, and time killing neighbors – they consume so much of our time and brain that there’s none left for us to use at the end of the day. Still we are motivated to do what’s right for us – write for ourselves, it’s an obligation to the inner you, isn’t it? You reach the desk at the last hour of the day, pick up your pieces of thoughts and right when you are about to hit the keyboard, you lose power. People with laptops can still work for a while but not desktop users like me. Our day just got pushed into a dark oblivion when there’s no option but to sleep, the thoughts still currying inside, the flavors dying to spill out on to a writing pad or a web page. But luck is having none of it!
I’ve been under such a spell since past 3 months. Everyday is a struggle – to stay awake, concentrate, be healthier, see certain things the way I would a few years ago, keep focus on the future all the while learning from the past and (the one that tops it off) yet, be fun.
My irritability around this time of the year isn’t a new phenomenon. From an early age, I found June, July, August and September – the hardest to deal with. Whether it be my bone crushing accidents, to hysteria among the people around me, diseases – it’s like a kill-switch turns on. People die, there are terrible news all around and concentrating is the last thing my brain does. This is also the time I wish, time should just fly by never concerning me with its nitty-gritty. These are easily the most non-productive months of my year. Do you have any months that particularly seem to concern you – ones that freeze your hands, swell your feet, numb your mind for the world around just picks up its frantic pace and tries to drag you with it?
It is these months though, I expect my dear readers to show me some love and be kind enough to keep this space engaged. And how well you’ve done it, BRAVO! You’ve read and read my stuff, appreciated it, hunted down my errors even when I wasn’t there for you…
“You Cooked My Blog“!
And now it’s time for me put some dishes on the front burner and stir the pot to see what comes out next.
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.
“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 –
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.
Ground is cold.
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 –
- ALIEN AURA’S BLOG: IT’LL BLOW YOUR MIND!Inspiration – and stimulation!
- Under the Monkey TreeInspiration from the Past
- In my worldIn the beginning there were Fifty words
- BumblepuppiesThe Letter G Insults My Intelligence
- shivansh chaudharyIn no time, time flies by!
- The Finicky CynicFifty-Word Inspiration (#JuneJour Challenge, Day 15)
- The Things I Yell at My Television…Fifty
- PSEUDOMONAZNow That You Are Gone
- Chasing A Dream“Fifty”:”Unexpected”
- Following My JoyYou Left
- eternal DomnationSush
- theempathyqueenThe Teenage Years in Fifty Words
- jscottiblogNicky and the Girl in the Yellow Sundress
- If Crazy Fits Wear ItFifty Word Inspiration – Disappointment
- I’ve Got A StoryWallflower
- Reject RealityThe Kiss
- The Uncustomary HousewifeThe Bipolar Mind: In Fifty Words
- The Uncustomary HousewifeA Fifty Word Recipe to Saving the World, Almost.
- bodhisattvaintrainingdaily post writing challenge
- Scattered ThoughtsWP Writing Challenge : 50 Words Fiction
- lifespinkyHe Didn’t Leave … Me
- Meaningful Mommy“Unexpected…becoming a mother”.
- The Seminary of Praying MantisTold destiny continues
- Mad Meandering MeWeekly Writing Challenge: Fifty Words Inspiration
- Dance With MadnessDrifting
- Short…but not always so sweetStretching the Dollar (50 words)
- stepin2purposeThe Will to Move
- tnkerr-Writing Prompts and PracticeDid I Say That Right?
- Musings of a Random Mindlove isn’t forever
- wandering story tellerLove at first sight
- The Persian FlawRemnants Of A Lake
- helen meikle’s scribblefestWeekly challenge: It’s all as inspiring as a cracked bell
- tuckedintoacornerFifty Words
- Project MomentarilyHope in the dark
- Love Happy Notes – Daily Fun and InspirationYesterday’s Hero
- Love Happy Notes – Daily Fun and InspirationA Life to treasure
- Love Happy Notes – Daily Fun and InspirationA better life
- Love Happy Notes – Daily Fun and InspirationYOU ARE A WINNER!
- Love Happy Notes – Daily Fun and InspirationThe Wild Ones
- Love Happy Notes – Daily Fun and InspirationDoggie stompin’ on Fear
- Joie De VivreElliot
- theimaginariumofkitti’s BlogButterflies
- Chronicles of an Anglo SwissWeekly Writing Challenge – The Death of a Jabberwock
Ah the beauty of the songs! The rappers, they exist to let our voice out. Our voice, a common man’s voice with not enough sound and words.
How many of us partners in a relationship find ourselves in two different worlds with a sudden urge to improve our lives, fulfil our dreams, live our fantasies, only that we are the only hinderance in their plans? The thought that sticks out is, ‘I can do so much more and give us so much more, just that I’m in love with you and I can’t leave you’. Such crossroads seldom come but when they do, they are a real test of patience, trust, and responsibility towards each other. The path of my life that I once swore by, stands divided. My phase has arrived. I face 2 routes now –
1. To go ahead and give way to freedom of thoughts and actions. A path I’ll choose for every living being on this planet at any moment of my life. They all have the right to live their own life, do what they want to and experience life on their terms. Why do I give this freedom? Because this is one luxury I don’t give myself. I’ll forever feel responsible – to stay away from trouble as much as I can, to keep my partner away from one, and pavé way for them when they are stuck in their life, to steer them clear from any possible danger. I’ll never let go no matter how easy someone makes it for me. People have tried but this hard assed brain just can’t make peace with responsibility.
2. The other option is to stop this infighting inside my brain, pause life around me and say NO. No! Whatever we do, we do it together and never leave each other even if it means killing a thousand seeds of dreams and some dreams themselves. How cruel will that be?
Also when I say NO, don’t I go against a nature – Mine! How will I ever console myself if there was an opportunity to be had and I let it go or made others let it go? What if an idea never turned true only for my selfishness? Aren’t I the devil then?
A thing I’ve had plenty of is failure – lots of them, some of them even career threatening and the only thing I gave myself then were chances in abundance. Chances to perform, to stand up straight and adore myself once in a while gleaming with pride in the face of a mirror. And it’s these chances that everyone deserves and must yearn for. An indomitable spirit, in more cases than not, paves way towards your aim. Be positive and it in turn creates positive waves around you that affect everyone and fills them with positivity too, something they may have forgotten to imbibe within themselves.
All you’ve got to do then is – Shout it out, as loud as possible! And things are ticked into motion just to fulfil your destiny, your wish. It’s not hope, it’s a belief and I live by it. For until your words don’t leave your brain, they’ll forever remain unheard and unacted upon.
Be your own gramophone! 😀
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!
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!
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!
A sense unknown.
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 –
an exhilarating psychological state of pride and optimism; an absence of depression.
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?