Of Destiny, Karma, Happiness and that thing called Life.

Destiny plays with us in two ways, one in which it is pre-destined and the other in which we choose what to do, the path we take that changes its course forever.

There is no such thing as coincidences. We don’t meet anyone accidently, we don’t stumble upon jobs or change houses. These things happen as per a plan that we at some super sub - conscious level have chosen long long before. The exact time and place where we would meet someone, the consequences that would lead to it and so on...

Ever wondered at a particular situation and travelled back with it? Everything appears to be linked. Nothing and no one enters our life at the wrong time. It is always the right time.

But that is where the second role of destiny comes to play. Destiny gets us to the point, the crossroads where a certain path could alter our lives if we choose to walk it and maybe if it is not the right path, wonder all along the way what the other path could have bought into our lives.

To choose the path and to walk on it in order to let that destiny enfold is free will.

There is nothing that is impossible, no path and no choice that is not given to us, what we do with the choice, how we exercise our free will, how far we go to either make ourselves or perhaps others happy is up to us, at each point and each day in our lives, when we make the decision to wake up and live another day.

If destiny is pre chosen then why do we make mistakes you might ask?

Could the answer be Karma or maybe sheer bad luck? No one can and would choose an unhappy life, isn’t it. We are all on our own spiritual journey treading slowly towards a path that reveals itself unfortunately only when we make mistakes, or to put it in the positive sense, when we learn.

I am not saying that it does not reveal itself when we are successful or happy, but do you remember the last time when you were truly happy and you thought about karma, destiny or your growth as a spiritual being?

This brings me to another question, what is happiness and where does unhappiness begin?

It is written in the Gita and also propagated by Buddha that evolved is the human being to whom happiness and unhappiness holds no meaning. We cry tears of joy and laugh when life slaps us in the face, we yearn for drama in simple, normal lives and when in pain wish for relief. We never endure happiness or unhappiness in its true sense. We hardly become numb to emotions, a place where there is no beginning or end to these emotions.

I often take my own example when I wonder about life; I don’t want to take the liberty with anyone else’s life. I look around me today and I wonder about the lesson I am supposed to learn from what is and what is not in my life today.

I also wonder if the ‘lack’ of something is truly a lack? Or it is a perception of my make believe perfect world.

I wonder about what is not lacking in my life today, is it ‘perfect’ and if it is how often am I living up to its perfection?

Of the various books I have read, people I have met, conversations I have had, movies and art I have seen, I have truly come to believe that destiny always brings you to your dreams, because somewhere at some level you are always fighting for your dreams with the universe. The universe being as compassionate as it is delivers, maybe not in your face but it does.

What you choose to do of your dream, to live it or to leave it be is up to you.

I have also come to believe that it never gives second chances; it never crosses the same path twice.

And then one day you die.

Morose? Well, it’s the truth isn’t it? As Mitch Albom in the beautiful Tuesday’s with Moorie wrote that we ought to live each day as if we were going to die tomorrow, we would then live a happier life.

Pick up that phone, write that letter, and make that long pending visit. Tell the people you truly love that you love them. Quit the unhappy job, find your dream and when you do, live it as if there was no tomorrow. Pay attention to the signs the universe gives you, the people you meet, they are there for a reason, don’t let them go. And when it is time, also let go.

Make a point to start living, maybe selfishly at first, and you will notice that when you are happy how much happiness you can bring to the ones you love. Because there is nothing as comforting as to see someone you love happy and content.

A day to live and a day to learn while I hope tomorrow brings sunshine.

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I had the strangest day today. There are some days when you wake up and you know something will not be right today. These are the days when you should keep quiet. These are the days when you should listen to that voice warning you. But exactly on these days, you refuse to listen to that screaming voice inside of you.

I learned a few things in the past few days – about myself, people and life through myself, people and well, life. 

• I have learned that if you lose a friend, that person was never really your friend to begin with. It is sad and it hurts but it’s true. Friendship doesn’t come with terms and conditions; people don’t come with terms and conditions. It is all a game of expecting and accepting. 

• I have learned that relationships have their troubled times. We stop being what we are initially to the people we love. We become comfortable and say things that we should not say. It is at that point that we have a choice to either evolve with the relationship or fight. 

• I have learned that I don’t have the energy to fight anymore. We are so starved for love that we fight for love itself. Maybe that’s the reason even countries fight. 

• I have learned that as we get comfortable in things, places and with people we also start to ask for more. We start to treat those things, the places and those people as home. We take them for granted.

• I have learned that there is no time slab, price tag or an expiry date on some relationships. Sometimes, they just fade. 

• I have learned that we can’t accept the fading away. It’s a fear we carry around us all the time. 

• I have learned that letting go is a process. It takes time. We feel it’s the hardest thing we have to do. But truth is, we have to let go, we have to walk ahead and we have to move on.

• I have learned that with love comes insecurity. To evolve and conquer it is an ongoing process. It is also the same process that either brings two people closer or makes them fall apart. 

• I have learned that I have to wait for love to come to me. The kind of love that has its ups and downs, arguments and insecurities but all of it stems from passion and immense emotion. A love that each day learns the good and bad about me as I learn about him and together we grow to make him and I – Us.

Of Circles, Squares and Thin Lines.

There are these moments in life when you feel that you are walking on thin lines. Points where everything seems perfect but you know that a little gentle push and you will fall on either side. Neither side you know is anything compared to this but you know sooner or later you will fall.

So what do you do?

I remember a line from a song that says – ‘Even falling feels like flying for a little while’

Sometimes we like to endure pain, revel the pleasure of risk and fight with ourselves to go to the limits of our beliefs and values.

I wonder if we are all masochists at some level and on another level if we are all desperate attention seekers.

We reach points of balance and we like to stretch them till the longest time. Then it all starts to seem mundane and so very boring.

We look for triggers to sway us, make us tip and make us fall.

We fall, rise and start walking the line again.

If life is just made up of these circles, when does one settle into a plain, simple square?

Just some thoughts on an idle Friday afternoon.....

Of failures, love and simply emerging.

I am back and emerging. I have played the vanishing act for some time now and it is time now to wake up, smell the roses and the coffee (whichever is available) and move on, live another day and breathe another moment.
I have been in a trance since some time now. Flowing and moving in a stride without any reins in my own hands. It’s been one of the times when you don’t know who actually holds the reins to which you sway, sometimes uncontrollably.

I wonder if that is a good or a bad thing to do – letting yourself flow along the tide. Does it mean you get hit by the occasional rock? Does it mean you just keep flowing and never reach the shore?

I can go on and on being pseudo-philosophical here but the truth is sometimes we can’t help but flow. Sometimes we don’t realise we are in the middle of the water till the tide kicks in, shakes us and forces us to float – directionless but afloat nonetheless.

When you are in a limbo, writing gets affected. You go through so many emotions at each moment that writing them is a task. It has taken me hours to pen down this much and I have no clue where this post is headed.
Therefore I think it’s better to share news.

In recent news, I tasted failure.
True failure I believe is only achieved when you fail in your own eyes. That only happens when you put expectations on yourself to excel and then you don’t. You know it and there is no excuse you or anyone else can give to make you feel better.
Thankfully, I have always emerged from failure as a learner and stronger and readier to face worse.

In other recent news, I wonder about love.
I do believe that ‘Love’ is the most overrated and underestimated word we humans have created. In those terms it is quite the oxymoron.
I have never understood how people can put in boxes, squares and rectangles an emotion such as love.
Why does saying I love you become a big deal, so big that people don’t say it. And then life just passes you by.
Imagine if six billion people accepted, emoted and professed love to the people they knew, how much happier a race would we be?
Love comes with its own set of expectations and issues and reasons, maybe seasons too. It’s a journey, quite a tricky one, to move past these and rise to something close to unconditional.
When I was told, people get over people, they move on and that is what happens to each one of us.. I started looking back at the people I had let go. Or had I really?
Do we ever really let people go? We talk about them, we think about them through our life, yes we let go of the emotion, but we never let go of people.
They just move from a certain part of our hearts to another part. A part where they become less important in the scheme of things but they always remain somewhere as people who came, touched our lives and someday just moved away.
Instead of cribbing that someone didn’t love us back, shouldn’t we be happy that we loved them, for whatever time and at whatever level, we felt the power of love.

So, while the rant continues in my head. Bukowski beckons and I leave...

Love continues to touch me from all around as I open my heart to the universe, failure on the other hand like a timid mouse hides in a little hole somewhere in the crevices of my brain.

To more rants and random musings... cheers!

When I meet you ... (love letter #22)

When I meet you .....

The darkness will not bring in loneliness but the solitude we seek.  

We will stay together yet rise apart

And each day you will grunt more while reading the morning paper aloud

I will smile, sip my tea and pretend to listen.

Sometimes, we will forget to speak out what we need to say & leave post its on random mirrors

We will not talk for hours but know just when to reach out for our fingers

Our fingers that with interlock perfectly

We will not get out of bed on Sundays and read thrash lying on each others laps

We won’t bother about crumbs on the bed and glasses on the side tables without coasters

On Sundays we will just be

When it will rain, we will walk without raincoats

We will kiss and jump over puddles

Sometimes you will hold me and just close your eyes

I will wonder and just stay.

Me

P.s For more love letters read here

Just another rant post ....(where she rants about the blackberry, friends and new city)

I wonder if writing a post and changing the opening line a million times classifies as writers block. These days I seem to suffer one more than what I would like.

Idle Tuesdays have become insomnia driven Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday nights.

Nights where mundane facebook stalking and tweeting are given importance. Books are bought and never read. Paints are drying and empty word documents stare at me all the time.

The BBM messenger has become a curse. Did I have a life before February 23^rd 2010? I wonder if I did. Ummmm, yes! I certainly did. It involved conversations across the table with numerous cups of coffee being consumed and moments in between spent looking at the world go by, at  birds flying back home and watching the sun go down.

There was a life before BBM messenger. I just seem to have lost that.

Technology will kill us one day, I always used to and continue to say that and sadly I have become prey to the evil itself. Someone told me the other day that he is just a BBM message away and I wondered where the days of, ‘I’m always right there.’ And ‘I’m just a call away’ have vanished.

In the future will I ever meet friends and have conversations?

In other thoughts, ‘Friends’ reminds me of how difficult it is to make a friend these days.

Do you remember the last time you made a REAL friend? Someone you could be honest with, open your soul to, call at 4 am and have them standing at your doorstep in fifteen minutes, watch all kinds of films and listen to all kinds of music with, laugh your guts out, talk rubbish, talk sense, not talk at all yet communicate.  – You know that kind of friend?

I honestly don’t remember when. I guess in the words of Baz Lurhman (we all need to..) – “Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young”. (Sunscreen song, my anthem)

I guess he knew how hard it is to find friends as you grow older. More than that how hard it is to compartmentalize them because that’s what you need to do with every year that you add to your kitty of numbers. Boxes and compartments for the married couple friends, the single girl friends, the (very rare and almost nonexistent) single guy friends, the couple friends parting ways, the younger lot of friends, the older lot of friends. .... and on and on .....

There are rules and lines that one needs to draw when it comes to making friends as one grows older.

The single girl will not appear to be too lonely for the single guy to think he can take advantage of her. A simple coffee becomes a ‘DATE’. The married woman will not appear to be too friendly with the married guy or it might connote an affair. The singles won’t go out with the couples and the couples will try and always fix up the singles.

It wasn’t this complicated a decade ago. Life was simple, to the point and accurate. These days I don’t know where it is headed and where the 4 am friends have vanished.

In other happier news, it is a pleasure setting up a house. It is a pleasure every human being (and especially single women) ought to go though and experience to the fullest.

I had this dream when I was little about how my ‘grown up’ house would be. How it would have nice smelling candles (that I would actually burn and not just keep) and fresh flowers every day. I can’t afford the flowers but I have the candles and they are consumed!!  I have a fridge stalked with coke and beer – none of which I drink too much but it feels really good to see it there.

During insomniac nights sometimes I look around and ask myself, am I really doing this? Is this really happening? Did I really move here?

I still look both sides before crossing the street, I still cannot explain the road that leads to my house to people who are visiting, I still convert the prices of onions and still wonder how chicken can be so cheap!

This was not in the plan. But it happened. My 6^th city, my 6^th set of acquaintances, my 6^th home.

And when people ask me if I am liking it here? I have no answer.

Maybe I will when I will finally understand which side the traffic moves.

He said, 'you complete me' and she said, 'you had me at hello'

Its been a long time since I wrote a love letter - this ones an improumtu sitting in boring meeting scribble. For more love letters feel free to browse here :-)

The drift won’t be in words but in minds and fingers

Tiptoeing towards one another, in magnitudes of darkness

There will be whiskey before and after soul opening conversations

There will times when eyes that will speak during Chinese takeout in plastic tins

Curtains will be drawn to pretend no one else can see

Minutes will turn into hours and hours will be too less

Mornings will be empty with a sense on loneliness

The one which comes with the sick feeling of completion

A completion of self

And we will continue to be lonely souls

Incomplete either ways

While the whiskey will continue to flow…

Metro Musings with Sting

And they speed by, lights yellow and white,

Sting sings in golden fields,

Reflections hazy on clean glass,

Lovers with jittery chemistry,

Some eyes wonder, some search,

Some are just lost

I don't see you...

And Its still a long way home.

My first crush .. is priceless!

I have never entered a writing contest, I never thought I was good enough. Thanks K, for sending me this link and believing that I can write for a contest. So here goes, my entry for the Blogadda and Pringoo contest.

My first crush .... 

Your first crush is like the first time you try a new flavour of ice cream. Once it’s over you don’t really remember why you choose that one anyways, was it the colour or the name or it was just an easy choice. What you do remember is the feeling – the heady little brain freeze, the spinning, the fuzzy feeling and contentment.

He did that to me.

Like the first kiss when you are so excited and can hardly believe that it is actually happening. The weakness in your knees and the sinking feeling in your tummy are mixed with the random, mundane thoughts running through your head. You want to remember that moment so much that you end up forgetting most of it. Years later you think about that moment and you remember bits and pieces of that random thought, the unnecessary details like the song that played in the background and the way the perfume on his shirt smelt.

When I was asked to write about my first crush the first thing I obviously did was Facebook stalk him.

I was not sure it was him, till I checked out our common friend list. And well guess what, He is now a man! Like a man with a belly and a moustache.  YUCK.

It totally burst my bubble and I wish I hadn’t done the Facebook stalking thing. In my mind he still was the perfect fourteen year old school hero until this moment.

Back in dreamland, School, life and everything I knew back then had changed after the first time I spoke with him.

Life would never be the same. I had discovered this other species in a whole new light. Very different from how I thought of them earlier, suddenly hitting them and punching them wasn’t cool, running around with them in the school corridors became a no - no. All at once being shy and being a girl was cool and so unlike the person I used to be.

I would now wait hours to see him at drama practice at the end of the day. Plan for hours of how I would react when he would speak to me and when he would – the few lines in the play we were performing and practicing for, something always got stuck in my gut, like someone stuffed cotton right in the middle and I could neither swallow or spurt but just be speechless with a constipated expression on my face.

He, totally unaware of my plight owned the room and all the people in it.

He would walk with this swagger as if he ruled the world. He was tall and funny and charming. His tie was never in place and when he smiled, oh when he smiled I could blush standing a million miles away.

But he would never know.

He would never know that every song I heard back then made me feel that it was written for him and me. That when I saw jo jeeta wahi sikandar, heard the song phela nasha and saw Ayesha Jhulka fall on a bed of saw I pictured myself in that frame singing for him.

He would never know how embarrassed I felt when I met him at a social gathering and I had been made to wear a frock by my mother (yes, during that era in 1980’s ten/eleven year old girls usually dressed in frocks!) while all the other girls were dressed in skirts and trousers.

I felt like a child. I felt confused and angry at my mother for making me wear that frock because he never looked at me. That, he would never know.

He would never know that I struggled to delay getting braces because I didn’t want him to see me with metal teeth.

He would never know awesomely and amazingly he changed my life in more ways than one.

And one day, he left school and moved away. Just like that.

He would never know he broke my heart and that was just a beginning to so many more to come.

If I could I would go back in time and tell him how I felt and just leave it at that. Stop and freeze time with that boy I knew. The cool, carefree fourteen year old.

I go back now to his Facebook page and wonder if I should add him as a friend.

Would he remember me? The girl in the green and red frock? The girl with the bug teeth and the pony tail? I wonder if he would remember the girl whose cheeks turned purple and who also cried in front of him when someone stole her crackle chocolate.

Something’s never change! There is the familiar cotton ball in my gut and my fingers can’t move the mouse to click on ‘add as a friend’, will he remember me?

P.S check out pringoo.com

GREY and the shades in-between

Before posting this I made a friend read it and she said - ' I hope the person who marries you doesnt read these blogs because your'e just not this person' ... to who ever I might marry and you will someday read this - I am this and much more, I am grey and I am shades of pink and blue.... :)

I often ask myself, ‘Did I want to be this person I am today?’
I am not perfect even if I choose to believe so for my self confidence. I know there is more of grey in me than any other person I know.
I know I have told lies, cheated and at times hurt people for the pure pleasure of hurting them.
But I am not a bad person either.
I have forgiven, apologized, been kind and given myself while expecting nothing in return.
We don’t choose to be the people we become; it’s the paths we take that eventually mould us to be what we are.
- If I had not left a small town at the age of sixteen I would have been a different person, I would be married and probably taking care of two children at the moment
- If I had not chosen what I did choose to study I would be a Biology professor or maybe an actor
- If I didn’t break up with him, I would be cursing myself all my life for making a wrong decision
- If I didn’t choose to live alone, I would not be a loner today. I would not be selfish (or maybe it’s a wrong word) I would not be so independent, I would not be outspoken and hence a lot of times misunderstood
Living by myself, not being answerable to anyone has made me selfish, complacent or for the lack of a better word, a loner. Being blessed with parents to whom I have never needed to be answerable too even in the two years I recently spent living with them, I have forgotten how it is to be around people and to live and work according to their schedules. I don’t think twice before planning my life as it only involves me and no one else.
I remember a conversation with my mother a few years ago about how rigid people become when they live alone for a long time. How their ways and being becomes set in a particular way which is difficult to change. Therefore I decided to keep changing cities, I would build a new life every couple of years, make new friends and change myself according to what the city and the place demanded.
I sit here today, wondering if I have become the one my mother dreaded. If that is selfish, if not being used to being answerable is a bad thing or being a self centered person. I wonder.
I look back at the events that shaped my life, the decisions I took and the twists and turns of it all. The decisions we solely mine at every age, again that’s because of being blessed with parents who never took decisions for me. The events that took place were results of the decisions I took of which I am living the twists and turns.
Every day when I take the bus to work I plan I will sit on a different seat and that I will get into a different coach of the train and that I will walk on the other side of the road.
It is so easy to change and switch situations while it is so difficult to change the repercussions those switches bring into your heart and soul.
The funny thing being each one of us can only change our self but what we keep wanting a change in others.
But I also don’t know if I want to change myself. I don’t know what is wrong or what is right, it is at the end of the day all grey.

While I was busy finding myself - an ode to all the single women out there

This one's for all the single, almost thirty women out there. Though the post is in first person, it speaks for everyone. Happy reading!

And there it is in front of me, staring at me yet again in big bold letters, the question I no longer have an answer to.

I have given up now on counting the number of times I am asked this question – “so how come YOU (read emphasis on YOU) aren’t married yet?” I politely reply, “well, hmmm... I don’t know!”  Then pops up the next one, “How come you didn’t find anyone, there are so many nice boys around!”  

Something inside me wants to shake the person asking me the question, rattle their heads and open their eyes wide by maybe sticking my fingers into them and politely request them to shut the fuck up.

For starters, if I had found someone, I would be married. Secondly, just because I didn’t doesn’t mean I’m desperate, so – you don’t need to be kind enough to hook me up with someone. When I was twenty no one wanted to hook me up with anyone, and well Sherlock, that’s when I wanted to be ‘hooked up’. On the downhill ride to fast approaching thirty, I don’t want to be  ‘hooked up’ by all you generous people. I might be enjoying my life  - (or is it so hard to believe) ...(with occasional bouts of loneliness - but then who said married couples aren’t lonely as well) so, why is it that hard to imagine that it is ok to be single? Or that single women don’t have a life!

When I am asked this question now, I have no answer. I simply smile and wonder about the weather and humidity and how flat my hair becomes because of it and that maybe I should colour my hair, I always wanted to colour a strand blue so maybe I should  just do it. All this while there is on the other end a rant going on about – “so tell me your story, you didn’t even find ONE boy in all these years?” (Read underline – ‘but she’s not that bad looking hmmm, poor thing, must be expecting too much hmmm, women today...  hmmmm..)

To all those very concerned people out there, to those who would like to know the story...

I did.

I found, I loved, I lost, I found again, I loved again and I lost again. ... and again....

I found out what I wanted and what I didn’t; yes it took some time and well, some people... but what I wanted at twenty was just not what I wanted at twenty two, certainly not what I thought I wanted at twenty five and just not what I need at twenty eight.

My road to discovery has not been about another person but about myself. Others have just played characters in realisation of the bigger plot but I have been and continue to be the hero of my story.

I have not needed a man to tell me how I should change a light bulb or how I need to fix the leakage in the bathroom, these are things I have figured in my own sweet time, on my own.

I have not needed a man to take decisions for me, the ones that altered my life – when and how I should change my career path, which city I would like to live in..

I have been hurt, I have broken my heart and I have cried nights, simply to realize after a couple of weeks that I do heal, my heart repairs itself and time sorts out everything. And I don’t need a man to sort it out for me.

I am fiercely independent and I might sound like a stuck up bitch but it just isn’t so...

When I meet someone who is fiercely comfortable with me being a stuck up bitch, I will love him till eternity.

I will be the girl who loves lilies and walks in the rain, who plans surprises and loves them as well. I will be the girl who will want her man to sweat it out, fix the furniture and find the directions. I will be the girl who will be very strong inside but will just want that shoulder to lean on, just because it feels so good.

I will be that girl, when I find the boy who doesn’t ‘need’ me be one.

And until then, stop asking me, “how come I didn’t find anyone”?  

Because darling, I have been just been busy finding myself!

The writer's block

When the writers block emerges - Paint.
Always works for me :) This ones untitled - finished it in 30 minutes today morning after staring at a blank word document for an hour.
I dont know whether to adore or abhor my writer blocks.

A little inspiration - 2

The day I write like this, I would be happy ...

Love

Because of you, in gardens of blossoming flowers I ache from the
perfumes of spring.
I have forgotten your face, I no longer remember your hands;
how did your lips feel on mine?
Because of you, I love the white statues drowsing in the parks,
the white statues that have neither voice nor sight.
I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice; I have forgotten
your eyes.
Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to my vague memory of
you. I live with pain that is like a wound; if you touch me, you will
do me irreparable harm.
Your caresses enfold me, like climbing vines on melancholy walls.
I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every
window.
Because of you, the heady perfumes of summer pain me; because
of you, I again seek out the signs that precipitate desires: shooting
stars, falling objects.
- Pablo Neruda

A little inspiration ... A little hope...

Watching the sunset from the wide windows at my apartment right now. How come watching sunsets always give a kind of spacious calm? I can stare at it for as long as it lasts and while it changes colours in the sky and think of absolutely nothing yet everything.

Watching the sunset, the time to watch it and be in a spacious clam is a blessing... and so rare.

And today while it sets, I wonder if the sun is ever lonely, all alone in an expanse of nothingness. 

 

The Dubai Chronicles # 2

  

Living alone means getting used to aloneness. But don’t mistake aloneness with loneliness.

There are times when you miss company. And the definitions of that change over time. When you are in your teens and you are alone you miss fun, when you are twenty two you miss the charm of not being alone, when you are twenty five you have a need to not be alone. At twenty eight on your way to twenty nine, you miss someone to just share simple nothing’s.  (I realized this post reading a friends blog
(good stuff must be checked out))

Probably simple nothing’s make up for more than a lot of big things put together.

That’s when a little thought creeps in – ‘Can you ever give this up?’

So, you smile and cuddle aloneness and cherish it for as long as you have it.

Aloneness brings along with it many revelations about your own self as well.

You learn to respect your surroundings. Your surroundings become sacred.

Cleanliness has a new meaning – A lot of times you have nothing better to do but clean.

You expect people to respect your home as much and how you do.

Crinkly sheets and dirty dustbins irritate the hell out of you.

You start thinking a lot. – Well there isn’t much to do anyways, other than cleaning of course.

So you think and you think and you wonder about life. You write and you wonder and then you think again.

You blow smoke into nothingness and sip on coffee at odd hours staring at lights that define your existence at that point.

You can be smelly and dirty and roam around with oily hair and it just doesn’t matter.

Aloneness can be addictive. It is a drug and that scares me at times because I am sniffing the benefits to the fullest and I keep wondering how soon will I be an addict to independence?

The Dubai Chronicles # 1

One of the first things you do when you move to a new place is fix your feet firmly to the ground. No matter how many cities you move and no matter how old you get in the process, newness has a way of sweeping you right off your feet.


With my first salary in my pocket as I walked down the mall, I realized how much the past twenty five days have changed me.

How I don’t look at pretty things on spectacular window displays.

A place like Dubai with just shopping malls to entertain you can be pretty swaying. Apart from the temptation of all the beautiful things in the world there is also the temptation of losing yourself into something you totally are not.

I remember when I first felt the need to fix my feet firmly on the ground; it was when I just started working in the big, bad world of Bombay. The first Friday night was an eye opening experience to a world that went deeper than the rabbit’s hole.

There I was all of twenty one, very thin and with flawless skin trying to understand the simple and complicated ways of adulthood.

Drinking was simple but controlling post drinking behavior was complicated

Having sex was simple and legal but heartbreaks way too complicated

Monthly salaries were simple but the long hours at work absolutely not!

Everything I thought adulthood would be fun for was actually complicated in so many ways.

That’s when I learnt to fix my feet very firmly on the ground…

It didn’t matter if I got the promotion or the cute guy, what mattered was how peacefully I slept at night.

7 years, 10 kgs, many laugh lines and a diminishing bank balance later – I still need to hold myself when I move a city so that I don’t fall.

Every city has its lures and I guess it has to do a lot with age as well. Bombay had the lure of love, parties, booze and everything wrong. Delhi was indulgence and giving in to being a snob. Ahmedabad lured me into spending money – the chance to be reckless.

Dubai is trying to lure me into her whims and fancies very very slowly.

It’s the pretty things you see… That’s what dictates this city.

‘Pretty is not always beautiful’ someone told me once

Before I moved here I remember a conversation with a friend who said, “Dubai will change you and the way you look (probably the way you look inside)”

I have come to believe that this city can either make you look extremely pretty in your own eyes or very very ugly.

It is basically how well you avoid the pretty window displays.

Musings in the Metro - 1

Sleepy
Bored
Indifferent
Nervous
Blue sky and scorching sun
Dreams with mere smiles
Coffee in plastic cups
Shaken and stirred spirits
Just five stops to go.

Plagiarism - It's pissing off !!!

"The idea of copyright did not exist in ancient times, when authors frequently copied other authors at length in works of non-fiction. This practice was useful, and is the only way many authors' works have survived even in part."  - Richard Stallman

I have been meaning to write soulful, inspirational and insightful thoughts since a few days but the damn writers block has taken over.

There is so much to write about my new life, new people, everything I have been experiencing and feeling but its stuck right in the gut.

This post however is about inspiration but inspiration of a different kind.

Recently, I was angered, hurt and upset when I had my own tryst with plagiarism. I didn’t take being inspiring as a compliment when my blog address or name wasn’t mentioned in plagiarized text.

The world and community has become so much smaller thanks cyber space, cell phones, blackberry messengers and ipads. It has become so small that we just have no clue when we tread into each other space.

There is no differentiation of yours and mine. Not that it’s a good thing (to be selfish) but taking something away from someone is wrong.

What would be nice in the space of the blogosphere is to provide links and names when anything ‘inspiring’ catches our eye.

It is very difficult to protect content on such a wide open forum but the least we can do is give original credit to content writers by providing the link to their websites so readers know where the content is being ‘inspired’ from.

Fellow readers and passer by’s of the blog… support me. I am sure a lot of us have gone through this and it is not a good feeling.

Perfectly Lonely

My favorite quote goes something like this – ‘Change, but start slowly because direction is more important than speed.’


I look back today after making a huge change in my life and I realize that at no point of making life altering changes did I have a clear direction in mind. Change was a process that came naturally and well even though it didn’t feel like that time, looking back now it seems like just the way things were ought to be.

Speed was something that change never came with to me. Everything major that changed in my life was a slow process. Everything immaterial (that seemed so huge at that time) was instant resulting in instant joy and instant pain.

The slow changes are a few but those are the ones that made me think, reflect and ponder.

Direction I believe is somewhere related to destiny – the various destinies that we have. The choices we subconsciously make, the paths we unknowingly walk on, at the end each direction leads us somewhere – and what we make of that place is up to us.

Philosophy aside, change is good even if it is a little scary. Sometimes you just need to let life drift you along its flow.

Maybe that’s what I did when I moved to Dubai. I left so much behind – not just physically but emotionally as well. I shed everything that was holding me back from being ‘me’. And I am glad!

It’s been a week but feels like forever, as if this was the most natural thing that was waiting to happen to me. The choices I have made might yield in a million different conclusions but right now, it seems perfect.

And until then – There is a big smile on my face every time I hear this song –

Had a little love, but I spread it thin
Falling in her arms and out again
Made a bad name for my game around town
Tore up my heart, and shut it down

Nothing to do
Nowhere to be
A simple little kind of free
Nothing to do
No one but me
And that's all I need

I'm perfectly lonely
I'm perfectly lonely
I'm perfectly lonely (Yeah)
'Cause I don't belong to anyone
Nobody belongs to me

I see friends around from time to time
When their ladies let them slip away
And when they ask me how I'm doing with mine
This is always what I say

Nothing to do
Nowhere to be
A simple little kind of free
Nothing to do
No one to be
Is it really hard to see
Why I'm perfectly lonely
I'm perfectly lonely
I'm perfectly lonely
I'm perfectly lonely (Yeah)
'Cause I don't belong to anyone
Nobody belongs to me

And this is not to say
There never comes a day
I'll take my chances and start again
And when I look behind
On all my younger times
I have to thank the wrongs that led me to a love so strong

I'm perfectly lonely
I'm perfectly lonely
I'm perfectly lonely (Yeah)
'Cause I don't belong to anyone
Nobody belongs to me

(It's the way, it's the way, it's the way that I want it)

That's why they called it - 'the circle of life' (may I change it to 'circles within circles?) !!

Tip toeing into one, finishing it carefully and skilfully to embark onto the next which is strangely linked to the one before. These consequential concentric circles – mingling, connected yet so varying and different. No walk on any one if them has ever felt the same.

This one’s over, smoothly I must say and in the same way it started.

I see myself and my mother walk into stores, look at exorbitantly priced clothes – admire them and walk away. It feels like yesterday.

I wonder why we have always done this. Looking at pretty things makes us happy.

The friends today are gone, so have the nights of smoke and gushing liquid in my veins. Like they never ever even were.

It’s us, back to where we started. Completing and finishing just one of them.

I wonder how many more I have to walk and how many more friends I will meet along the way. How many will walk forward with me and how many will be packed into boxes.
I wonder if by the end of this one my mother and I will still gallivant into malls and look at pretty things.

Like time never passed us by.