I Wonder!

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?

I wonder!

Advertisements

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

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

Taxes

Taxes. We all pay taxes. Taxes are what enable a government to run a country smoothly. They tax us for everything – eating, drinking, driving, living and sometimes even thinking. We’re taxed for everything. Some pay it lump sum while some like me, pay it in pieces through the year so I’m not found begging on the streets for that particular month. For how much I earn, I pay 3 months salary as my tax, not to mention what I pay outside of it in Value Added Taxes and Service Taxes.

Well aforesaid taxes are what we pay to the government so we aren’t declared outcast or aliens on a land that we so deserve to live on, no matter which country or continent. We also pay a few other taxes of which one is the tax of expectation to our society. And we pay it day in and day out. This isn’t monetary – well in some forms it is as well!

Right from the day we’re born, or let’s go further back. Right from the time, parents either decide to have a child or that sperm gets loaded involuntarily, doomed is that little cellular structure. All those sperms that never made it, expected to perform, died trying – they paid their tax for being incompetent in death. But they were lucky for they had a safer death. The one that made it, frankly never got to do that small victory dance! 5 weeks later, after growing enough, it starts receiving medication and attention and is never left alone. Just enough space to survive and thrive in. Outside that tummy though, unknown to that little thing with no brain, are soaring expectations. Sons will make a doctor, daughters will need dowry.

We are and were all doomed to end up the way we have. Only a few escape the clutches of their parents, only to end up getting caught in the frenzy called OUTSIDE WORLD! The rest pay taxes like me. We’re salaried/businessmen/doctors/artists. That little brain of ours works day in and day out to earn a living. We’re shown the door for being ourselves. We’re influenced, lack originality, and life as I see around us, sucks beyond belief. Mine does. No other example is good enough.

Next we’re married, expected, not to find our true love, but to give the parents a child that can carry the family name. Some of us find that true love, while some unlucky ones get caught out at the hands of vicious wives and husbands. These other halves tend to have their own expectations that are levied without permission upon those super-burdened shoulders. They want your money, your social status, hold no interest in your parents, and love remains unheard of.

Every single moment of our life is built from expectations. Your own and others too. You want to do well all the time. Who wants failures, for failures are rejected. Expectation though means fear. We keep fearing for our destiny and forget to live our life, the only thing that’s in true sense perishable. I’ve done this for 30 years everyday and every single minute and find it extremely tough to pull out that magical moment from a work day, to pull out of this vicious loop that I’ve gotten into.

And so I write. I write to vent it all out. But watching all of those who wish to earn through writing, I am tempted everyday. I want to raise my expectations from my blog. I want to raise my expectations from a solitary talent called writing. I want to do this everyday and every minute. But am I good enough? I fear for my destiny. I fear the unknown. I fear that I may lose all that I possess. My possessions matter. They’re there from sheer hard work. Day in and day out of doing something I hate from the core of my heart. Nothing I do during my day makes any sense. There is no satisfaction.

I want to earn more money. I want to rise higher. I want to see the world. I want peace. I want no expectations. But how do I say it – I can never rid myself from temptations, for I’m human. I’ll fall and rise. And it’s my expectations from my life, that make me brave these everyday storms to remain standing tall and writing about them, talking about them, and sometimes even laughing about them.

The only way I see that I can escape expectations is to let go – let go off the people who hold us back. Let go off the material that binds us to temptation. I may attain peace, but then isn’t even peace an expectation? Isn’t peace taxed?

P.S. – This is the hardest prompt I’ve ever tried! I can really go on and on about it, like write series but it may get so depressing that you won’t read beyond the second half of the second edition itself.