Inspiration...

Sometimes life is a complete dead end. A writer's block in a blind alley. A series of indelible circumstances that lead you to nothingness. And although we may pride ourselves on finding our way in the more adverse of situations, sometimes the urge to give up overcomes sense and gravity. An overwhelming desire for a shoulder. A desperate need for scotch. A singular attempt to bite the tears back. Its moments such as these that are defining in failure. Like an emotion stretched thin and frayed at the edges. A breath underwater stretched unto infinity.

Its times like these that we are most in need of inspiration. A ray of light, a nudge in the right direction...divine guidance. To make the impossible seem human. And its times like these that we feel most forsaken. Lost, disoriented, helpless...cursed. Our greatest strength rendered useless in a single chess move. God's sleight of hand.

Its surprising how subtle inspiration is. It reveals itself not in a flash of color and blinding light, but rather in a veil of banality, the elusive shades of gray. In the amicable preaching of parents. In the discussion of life with confidantes. In faded journals and conversations. In that photograph when you had short hair. In home-cooked chicken curry, courtesy Mom. In clichéd movies about the impossible. The last pages of a book that made no sense before. An old song rediscovered. A lover's faith. The lonely drive through familiar roads and intimate memories. An evening walk down a rainy path. A second look from a stranger. A helping hand with no name. An implicit trust.

Watch for a twinkle in the eye. A fleeting rainbow. A happy day. The smallest things.

Sweet Nothings...

A lot of my posts talk about understanding the mundane. About everyday incidents and fluttering thoughts joined together at the hip. About repeatability at its best, wrapping itself around our frailties and our weekends. About the indefinite cycle of hop-scotch. Things taken for granted. The Earth's rotation and Google maps.

A book I read recently had one of the most beautiful quotes I have ever come across. It stated, "The most amazing thing that a man will ever get to see in his life is the body of a woman". Being the closet romantic that I am, it struck a chord. Not an orchestra of hope or the flashback of reminiscences, but a slight breathlessness of emotion, a skipped beat. A recognition of those faded moments when fate and feeling collide in a flash of color, when time slows down and closeness intensifies.

I have always believed that beauty is instinctive, that the awe is animalistic. That its not in the comfortability or the trust or the relationship itself, but in something much more clichéd and commonplace. Its in the flick of her wrist as she pulls at that contemplative strand of hair. Its in the place between the head and shoulder where she lies to listen to your voice. Its in the blink of her look, her want. In the smile of last night and the last hug before the rain. The hand around the waist in that timeless dance. The cheek-to-cheek. The static of first contact. In the movie scenes and the lyrics. In that final wandering thought, and the next one. Its in the faded picture thats crumpled from being in the wallet so long. Its in the jacket that smells of her. Its in those infinite little things that melt together into one breath of bliss, one gaze at eternity, one shot at love.

Life throws quite a fair share of conspicuous issues our way. And its this bag of small wonderfuls that makes it all worthwhile. The whispers and the silences, the scents and the touches, the glances and the flickers. The sweet nothings that we seldom understand.

Defining Moments...

We all look for defining moments in our life. Punctuations in our otherwise continuous survival. Pinpoints. Put up on the refrigerator door to feel good about ourselves. A scrapbook neatly arranged into dates, color-coded, and cross-referenced. A neat row of milestones behind us to lull us into the security that life can be written onto a set of greeting cards. That all of it can be arranged into sections, like a shopping mall. Where you can walk into your past and know from the labels just where you need to go...to relive an old incident, to relearn an old lesson, or just to look up something you never intended on doing or being. Like a grammatically correct sentence, with the appropriate amount of commas in between, to pause for effect.

And a nice big full stop at the very end for everyone, an exclamation point for the fortunate and the prosperous. The proverbial fulfillment of everything. The answer to the question of Life. We look away at the very mention of the Big White Light being a question mark. That after all this time we still leave with questions unanswered...dreams unfulfilled...thoughts unsaid...moments left behind. That after everything we've been through, we're still lost between the sun and the moon and the almanacs. That after the countless debates, discussions, self-reflections and analysis's, the tombstone lacks the phrase it needs. A whirly mist of overlapping shapes. A shadow play of silhouettes.

And so we look for song lyrics in our existence. Turn to chocolates and shoulders. Stare into the night and think about intersections. Pick up the phone and dont dial. Help the needy and play monopoly. Take annual vacations. Cut ourselves shaving, burn ourselves cooking, wound ourselves trusting. Give names to emotions, titles to streets, and hearts to strangers. Define our lives into little moments that only we can remember. Catalog them neatly into our mind and guard them jealously, in hope that at the very end all the pieces will fit together into one giant jigsaw.

Its all just one big cotton-candy machine. Smeared eye-shadow fading into last night's bruise. A tinge of purple in gray. Broken pieces of the last glass.

25 Things I Hate...

25. Small talk.

24. Giving up smoking. Giving up.

23. People who think they're smarter than me, but arent.

22. Inspirational sayings.

21. The rain.

20. Hopes and expectations.

19. People who expect the world to "work in a certain way".

18. Indian cuisine at restaurants.

17. The concept of emotion, and second chances.

16. Bad color combinations and condescending bullshitters.

15. Promises that cannot be kept.

14. Humid mornings, cloudy mornings, sunny mornings...all mornings.

13. New places that look so much like the last place I've been to.

12. Having chosen...having to have chosen.

11. Lies. Gossip.

10. Knowing so much and keeping so quiet.

09. Disorder, crowds, and optimists.

08. Being right most of the time.

07. Women who clap you on the back, or pull their own chairs.

06. Keeping in touch via biweekly offliners and "how're-you-doing"s.

05. Incorrect grammar and bad firsts.

04. Looking back. Might've-beens. Far-aways.

03. Old voices in new conversations.

02. Missing people who've gone.

01. Searching...

Life and Love

Army life and young dances...bus rides and unhooked bras...riverfronts and Sidney Sheldon books...boy/girl groups and age differences...dog bites and sweet gestures...playful flirting and valentines...moonlit walks and quiet understanding...cold creams and unsaid feelings...first times and first mistakes...

Hidden crushes and first proposals...soft toys and lucky charms...lost earrings and real love...borrowed roses and chaperoned by mum...poems and kisses...sweet nothings and library corners...little notes and new wallets...skipped tuitions and slow dances...reassurances and holding on...missing pictures and growing up...distances and letting go...

Cute chinks and unrequited attraction...corridor performances and fairytale dreams...yellow kurtas and canteen dinners...confused emotions and double dates...flings and models...dedicated songs and sleepless nights...friendly advice and smoky roofs...immature crushes and misunderstood ways...

Music rooms and birthday gifts...train journeys and bad results...waist chains and cat-eyed stones...car breakdowns and phone breakups...bengali festivals and beautiful saris...missed calls and lost hopes...unsent messages and unresolved issues...efforts and questions...honest confessions and new beginnings...late-night calls and comfortabilities...

Retreated months and pleasant surprises...farewells and hellos...three-day blooms and borrowed rides...iPod dances and black dresses...halted emotions and lonely nights...movie-like love and smiley messages...A Walk to Remember and dark theaters...musical nights and dreamlike caresses...painful heartaches and "I dont want to go"s...final calls and last-second doubts...

New York and a few tears...real promises and real problems...shoulders and blogs...replacements and bystanders...stubborn independence and open arms...cyber tries and drunken admissions...time differences and messenger statuses...ISD calls and "how're you"s...long waits and last times...god-complexes and self-induced complications...heart-breaking acceptances and moving on...

Life and love...

Random Flittings of the Overcharged Mind

A recent comment made me realize that it'd been a long time since I posted, and the truth is that life is preoccupying...thats the exact word for it. You get entangled in the subtle web of hope and self-satisfaction, rummaging for the future in a maze of insecurities and a barrelful of lessons. Given the lack of occasion and the unsystematic unloading of opinion, I thought I'd let myself go this one time in an attempt to trade prose for rhyme...I leave the interpretation for this one upto you...


I rest like an autumn leaf in rain,
prematurely seasoned but not washed away.
The thrushes pumping in a single vein,
I may miss that last flight, that last ray.
Its the best laid plans for the ordinary,
with just the whiff of caviar and sherry.

If you've seen a thousand birds fly by,
you'll know that insight is true.
And although most times we sigh,
sometimes life smells like a fresh brew.
Morphine after a rough night,
Or a shoulder and a bed in sight.

Things change in the singular of time,
universes multiply to chase chaos.
And just when things seem unfine,
distances numb the sense of loss.
Big words from a heart of stone,
substitute the self scrutiny of the alone.

I've seen the sunsets of heaven,
and survived some years of insane.
There's a lot of black in happiness,
and a lot of white in pain.
Its all a matter of color and intellect,
of seeing a rainbow, of living a reject.

So every time the sky changes hue,
know that the winds will blow and whine.
Its the artifacts of nature that do,
and the relics of you that shine.

How Much Can You Take...

• He stands in line for his visa interview. He's wearing a new Peter England shirt, a gift from his father, and he holds a small satchel with the documents that describe his life, neatly set in the order his father thought best. The wait is long and his thoughts are many, but a voice rises foremost, saying "Son, you've made me proud with each step you've taken. I want you to fly away to that land of dreams and riches, and be what I could never be, but what you have a chance at. And when you come back next, it should be with a one-way ticket for your old man and his wife. Make us proud". He knows he will not be able to fulfill all his father's dreams, but he's going to make it his life's ambition to do what he can. His father died of a heart attack two days ago.
• She just sits there, a light on in the background to make sure there are no dark corners. She's been staring at the monitor for hours now, unable to sleep, to eat, to move. There is the constant tapping of her feet through the dead of the night, to keep away the sound of silence. Its what they term a "panic attack". She has lost that youthful childish laugh that made the room light up, and the twinkle from her eyes is gone, the sign of a happy life. She talks but does not think, she jokes but does not laugh, she survives but does not live. She'd come out stronger with each curve ball that life had thrown at her, but this time she's beaten and broken. She's lost more than just hope and happiness, she's lost herself. Two days ago, 20 odd men beat and raped her in a dark alley.
• She was the epitome of resilience and strength for others, but not tonight, as she sat crying softly in her room. No one was allowed in, and even the tears crept carefully away from the cheek for fear of showing any signs of weakness. She held a swiss knife in her hand, but nothing there to slice except... She had been fighting with herself for some hours now, trying to push away thoughts of him while the knife edged slowly towards her. But it was not to end tonight, or any other night. A smile came back to her face for the briefest of moments as she saw him for the last time, if only in haze. Her fiance had been diagnosed with a tumor some weeks ago and the message on her screen read that he was dead, a last visit unvisited, a last kiss unkissed.
• He had always been average. In school, in college, in life. He didnt have much in terms of money, or family, or love, but he had always been satisfied with what he had. It didnt take much to make him smile, maybe a peg or two and a joint to widen the smile. He had never been smart, or versatile, or suave, but he had always been happy. And now that was gone, replaced by terror at what was happening to him. This was unknown and beyond his grasp, and although his doctor told him there was help, he did not know what to believe, if the doctor was even real or another figment of his imagination. Schizophrenia was driving him wild, and he dangled at the edge of sanity, his simple mind confused in a haze of realistic memories of people he knew.
• He just received the phone call five minutes ago, at a dhaba where he was enjoying his daily cup of tea and his favourite cigarette. He's sitting there numb with shock, the butt casually burning his fingers while his friends realize that he hasnt moved or breathed in over a minute and begin to swarm around him in joking concern. But his mind is not with them, it has fled to the deepest recesses of his memory to pull out an old incident. He had lost his mother some years ago, and would have lost his mind too if not for his loving father, brother and grandparents, who took over the role and made him what he was today, a balanced and able young man. The phone call had been to inform him that all of them had died last night in an accident with an oncoming vehicle.
• He was sitting at the edge of the bed, his back to all his friends, who were pre-occupied with some computer game . He could not hear their hoarse shouts or their coarse language. He could not hear the people shouting outside the window in the cricket ground, or the music playing in the next room. He could not hear anything except for the ticking of his watch, and her words in his head telling him to stay away. The love of his life had left. The only happiness he had known in his life had told him that it was "over". He hadnt known what to do, and the last few hours had been a haze of emotions and feelings, but realization crept back as his friends began to crowd around him, with mugs of water and hankerchiefs, guiding him carefully to the medic to avoid the blood dripping from his wrists.

I am none of these people. Some of them are just flutters in the wind, incidents taken place far away, while others I have been very close to...watched them go through hell so to speak. I do not know how many have truly made it back from there...some of them still cower in the shadows and pray to God, others put on a brave smile while they cry inside every second of every day, cursing Him for what he has done. I cannot console them, and I cannot say I understand, because I dont. I cannot advise them or shed any drops of wisdom. I cannot help them, I cannot fix them. I can only stand by their side and hold their hand while they stare blankly into space, going through something that we're not supposed to go through, that we're not built to go through. This "is not supposed to happen to good people", it shakes the faith and eats you inside out. It crushes the soul and leaves you a hollow shell.

Do not pretend to empathize, because you cant...do not begin to comprehend, because you dont...do not dare to judge, because you have no right to. It doesnt matter, and it wont make a difference. Just realize that no matter what we do or why we do it, who we are or how we live, why we choose or what we go through...we have just this much in common...

We are all innocent. We are all bystanders. We are all fragile.
And we are all just Human.

Adult Life: Part II....

I was watching an episode of Frasier the other day (sorry, I have too much time on my hands), and something about my previous post on the Adult Life came to mind while the show was on. The change from a gawky teenager to a mature adult was so unsuspecting that somewhere along the way I'd escaped from my cocoon without realizing I have wings. I mean I was happy in that quiet little corner I'd woven for myself, and who wants to leave that and venture out into the unknown, armed with a cheese sandwich and a knapsack? Its understandable for everyone at this stage to be a little apprehensive, not to mention angry at the fact that this change comes at the expense of so much lost along the way...those almost-reachable hopes, those unforgettable nights, and those lingering smiles.

So here I am adjusting to the so-called "Adult Life", missing home food and blinking back guy tears that threaten to moisten the eyes whenever there's one of those mushy movies on, or a forgotten moment reminisced, or just a call from a friend far far away. And at this point of time this woman comes on the show and begins to talk about being an adult, about having to take responsibility, about decisions to make, and paths to pave...and thats when it hit me, I hadnt missed my transition to adulthood...I was there.

Dont get me wrong, I miss the good old days as much as everyone else. I miss deadline skipping, I miss nights of lazing around, I miss being hungry all night because I forgot to eat, I miss blaming fate and luck for mistakes made, I miss crazy trips to wild places with strangers (both physically and metaphorically), I miss taking chances on the next exam or the next red light, I miss not thinking about tomorrow.

But that doesnt mean that life has gone bad...its just different, and you adjust to it, the same way you did when you were pulled out of the womb, when the woman you loved first broke your heart, when you had an accident and realized that you werent invincible. I've had my share of fun and frolic, of dances and demons, of the 70s and highs, and now its time to move on. Its always painful, but there's a realization on the other side that'll make you older, and wiser, and happier. The feeling of that first paycheck, the feeling of waking up early because you want to be on time for office, the idea of studying not cause you have to, but cause you want to, of working harder because you want to be something more than just a nameplate, of giving something your best and knowing that not even fate can waylay you, its exhilarating. I love knowing that I have only myself to answer to, it brings a whole new meaning to the word responsibility. And somehow, I want to make me proud.

And this may sound crazy, but I want to have a job I love. I want to have a car thats a pleasure to drive, and a bike for those romantic trips. I want to meet the imperfect woman and have the perfect relationship. I want to have irritating inlaws and loving children. I want to be there when my parents grow old and my brother gets married. I want to pray, love, and lose. I want to have more meaning in my life than just spontaneous plans, a deeper sense of direction than just planning tonight, a fulfillment thats more than just immediate. I want more.

I may have forsaken my cocoon, but I've realized that I have wings...and I want to fly.

Facts I've Learnt The Hard Way...

[] No matter how close your friends may be, ultimately you always are, and will be, alone.

[] If you lose faith in yourself, then you're not living, you're just surviving.

[] It hurts most when you lose love not cause of anyone's mistake, but because of circumstance.

[] Only in movies will you get a second chance, in life that rarely happens.

[] Life has the capability to break you and push you to your knees, you're just lucky if you havent experienced it...yet.

[] The minute you begin to hope, you've opened a window to be disappointed and dejected too.

[] Its better to be pessimistic that optimistic, atleast that way when something bad happens, you're already crying.

[] You can fight authority, you can fight emotion, you can even fight conventionality, but you cant fight destiny.

[] If you choose to go against the flow of life...hold your breath, and be prepared to drown.

[] The only person who's gonna be by your side all your life...is you.

[] "Unrequited Love" and "Forever" are all hypothetical situtations.

[] Every selfless deed arises from a selfish need.

Sher-O-Shayari

This is just a friendly verbal joust between me and a buddy of mine that I really liked...

ME: Banna tha philosopher bane chale hum engineer, pataa nahin kaise kategi zindagi jab katthe nahin yeh do year

HIM: Dil se nikala hua har shabd sher ban jata hain... "arbit" hi sahi par dil ki baat bol jata hain

ME: Dil ki baat bolne ke liye hi to sher chaahiye re...kambakht dil bhi aisa hai ki bol nahin paata usme kya chupaa hai

HIM: Ye sher-sher khelne ki tarkeeb teri...kahin orkut ke server pe pad na jaye bhari

ME: Abey sirf orkut ne hi to meraa diyaa hai saath...chahe khushi ho ya gum, din ho ya raat

HIM: Saath dene ki tu baat mat kar...gum ko mitane ke liye rum tere sath rahi hain tera saya bankar

ME: Sharaab, shabaab aur kabaab is umar mein nahin to kab karegaa...ek baari jawaani chhod gayi to tu kya jiyegaa aur kya maregaa

HIM: Jawan dil se raho, husna se nahi...yeh jawani is dil se hain sharab aur shabab se nahi

ME: Jawaani ko dil mein rakh ke tum kya paaoge...ghadi ki sooyion mein ghoomte reh jaaoge

HIM: Ghadi ki suyian kisi ke liye thamti nahi kabhi... magar yeh dil ki dhadkan kisi ki ahat ke liye zindagi bhar ke liye ruk jati hain

ME: Dhadkano ke liye hi to ji rahe hain zindagi mere yaar...yeh aahat nahin hoti to na hote tum, na hum, aur na yeh pyaar

HIM: Kehte hain saccha pyaar ek bar zindagi mein karna chahiye...marne se pehle khuda se ek bar milna chahiye

ME: Khuda na is janam mein milenge na milenge iske baad...bas rahegi unke saath kuch meethe lamhein aur bahut saare yaad

HIM: Kuch zindagian kat gaye unki intezaar main...magar woh lamhe na vapas aaye aur hum sawal banke reh gaye aapne aap main

ME: Sawaal hi to reh gaye bas, ab koi jawaab nahin...bahut husn mile humein magar hamaari mumtaaz nahin

HIM: Aye sheron ke dewane tujhya kya pata saccha pyaar kya hota hain...woh toh us shaajan ke dil se puch jo aaj bhi Taj Mahal banke dhadakta hain

ME: Chaahe imaarat ho ya jaan, baazi to lagaani padti hai pyaar mein...tabhi dil se aawaaz nikalti hai ikraar mein

HIM: Yeh mohabbat toh khuda ki pukaar hain, na samjho is ek jua...na samjho koi khel ki baazi warna zindagi ban jayegi ek jua

ME: Khuda to humein bhool chuke hain, aur hum bhool chuke zindagi ko...pyaar humein bhool chuka hai, aur hum dillagi ko

HIM: Khuda kisiko bhulta nahi, woh toh sirf use yaad karta hai jo use yaad kare...dillagi toh husna se hoti aur pyaar man se...kuch log ji lete hain husna ke sahare aur kuch tahe dil se pyaar karke....par dono cheeze kabhi bhool nahi pate bechare....

ME: Yaadein to man ke khel hain, bhoolna ek khoi hui kalaa...khush haal rehne ka raaz hai, ki apne beete hue kal ko bhulaa

HIM: Aadmi jo kehta hai, aadmi jo sunta hai zindagi bhar woh sadaye peecha karti hain.... guzra hua kal to woh lamha hai jise jitna bhulao utna yaad ata hai, use bhulane main hi usko yaad rakha jata hai

ME: Is justaju ne badla nazaara, naye manjil hue praapt...aaj ki yaad poori karein, is soch ko yahin karte hain samaapt