"If the end of the world was a fixed date... US would have finished 10 hours later..."
-Akshat Bhaiya, 31/12/2009 (GMT) / 01/01/2010 (IST)
Wanted to finish 50 posts for 2009. As against the 3 and 2 posts that I managed in 2007 and 2008 respectively. Thought I'll be done before the clock strikes twelve, but then I missed my own deadline, and so I convinced myself that completing the golden jubilee before daybreak was still technically okay. And in any case, it isn't 2010 all over the world yet!!
Cheers,
Me.
"I guess sometimes you laugh at others' dreams simply because you have forgotten how to dream yourself"
- Nakul to Mehek, in Nishant Kaushik's 'A Romance With Chaos'
Sometimes, 'big' troubles bother me. And I go into the 'Why Me?' mode. I begin lamenting. But then, unfailingly, I come across a situation that gives me the opportunity to understand that I am better off than many others; that there are people who have troubles that are actually BIG, and not 'big'.
It is in each of those moments, that I grow up a little more.
Much Love,
Me.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bzEjYZnZSqE&feature=player_embedded
This little something made me feel,that the little times I've done "wrong" (cheating on scores et al) is not sumthing I shud regret,because that's how life is.A little sugar,a dash of spice,sprinkles of laughter,a few hiccups in between,some faded photographs folding in at the corners, bright and fresh memories, some burnt rotis, cakes that turned out successfully,jobs that suck,friends and family that make u happy....and so much more.........everything put together,when we look back,is our journey called Life.
Much Love,
Me.
Have you ever made a mistake?
Laughed out loud and received glares in return?
Cheated on a test and felt guilt bloom in you?
Barely studied and screwed up on an exam?
Forgotten a chore your mom assigned to you?
Promised to diet and then binged to the core?
Not walked your dog when you were supposed to?
Wasted your time on the phone when you should have been doing something more constructive?
Splurged on clothes,food,accessories and the like?
Left your room in a mess?
Switched off a paranoid alarm, and gone back to sleep?
Not gone to gym when you should have?
Burnt food that you were very enthusiastic about cooking?
Missed a bus or train?
Not paid your bill on time?
Eaten so much ice cream that you croaked for the next few days?
Has any of these things ever made you feel guilty?
************************************************************
Imagine this to be the last,the very last day of your life.
You know you have only a few hours left to live. To sort your life out.
And now look back. And think.
Will these things seem like big mistakes even then? Or will you feel that they weren't ever that big a deal? That the moments you spent worrying about them, could actually have been spent thinking happier thoughts and doing happier things?
************************************************************
There are things in life that have a way of sorting themselves out. Don't worry about them. If something doesn't, or continues to irk you from time to time, it is something you need to repair. NOW. So go ahead and do just that, right away. Don't wait for things to keep going downhill.
Life is nothing without a few shortfalls. If you go wrong, you learn, and if you learn, you know you're alive. So go ahead, go ahead and 'make a mistake'.One way or the other, you'll learn.
Much Love,
Me.
Isn't it funny, endearing even, how at times, two people you know from completely different places, and totally unrelated episodes of your life, happen to know each other? It always makes me smile...it is like a sprinkle of magic in my everyday monotonous routine.
I know they refer to such occurrences as co-incidences, but I'd like to look at them as Big Wonders. Big Wonders, in a Small World.
Much Love,
Me.
"U know, sales of pharmacies world over would go up if they sold a dose of you"
- Polo, 18th December 2009 (when I said something that made her feel better :-) )
I need to see you so,so, SO badly.
Five years,almost.
I hate the fact that we are unemployed.
I hate the distance between India and Canada.
Those were beautiful days, weren't they?
Please come soon.
I love you.
"Love is a very simple thing.It is like liking something forever. Like this icecream cone.Only in a bigger context."
-Shreenika, 16th December, 2009.
Little images dash across my mind,
Fragments of my life randomly come face to face
Twenty-four years, millions of memories,
Some clear, some foggy,
The sweets Didu made for me,
Vivid green and pink,and full of love,
And games of Blind Man's Buff with her...
The fragrance of fresh rain and moist mud
And the excitement of the first day of school
The peach coloured walls of my home at Lucknow
And trips to Universal, some alone, some with company
The Gulmohar outside my room
That cheerfully burst into floral flames, year after year,
'Ojo' pepsicolas, in Orange, Chocolate and Kalakhatta flavours,
Candy, her coat first jet black, then peppered with age,
Drifting off to sleep amidst the noise of vehicles at Vandana House
Coloured idols of God,repainted by Kaku every year,
The snails perched on taps at Mahanagar,
Both scaring and fascinating me,
The shelves at Colonelgunj,unchanged year after year,
Photographs remaining where they have always been,
The black-and-white TV at Didi's house,
Which she claimed turned to colour while I was not around,
Pixie and constant smiles,
Mamma's looooong loooong hair,right down to her knees,
Swaying playfully as she walked,
Me perched atop Papa's shoulders,
Literally 'on top of the world',
Papa ducking to enter our building's low entrance,
Me gliding in easily, and feeling proud of the fact,
Not realising that it was because I was too short,
Purple shoes that Mashimoni got for me,
A size small, and therefore tight,
'Candy Park' and 'Khelni Ghar',
A green phone on top of the shelf,
"507100".
So many more thoughts
So many more memories
And so many more to come.
Much Love,
Me.
Reminiscences...
"I look out of my window, and see a group of kids sitting where we used to...only,it isn't us......"
-Adi, 15th December,2009
She creates subtle magic with her words; she does the same with her silence too.
We became friends over tasteless breakfasts, cups of excessively sugared coffee, a bizarre internship experience, potential and discarded magazine articles, blogging, and most of all, Music. And, I would have to confess – she came into my life right when I needed a friend. Almost like a Godsend.
As friends, we have experienced, and enjoyed, the congruence of thoughts. And we have had our moments of disagreement too. But I know that happens wherever there is the warmth of love, of true friendship.
There have been times when her inexpressiveness has hurt me, bothered me, confused me. Probably because I am conditioned to thinking that expression and speech go hand in hand. But she teaches me, slowly, steadily, that expression is not about being verbose.
She does not speak it all out like I do. She does not talk unless a question is put directly in front of her. She does other things that befuddle me. And yet, despite all that, she makes sure that whenever I stay over at her place, I get the sole pillow in her room. She spends hours staring at photographs of her baby nephew (the current man in her life), babytalking away to glory. If I drift off to sleep, she drapes a sheet over me. She can suddenly be overcome by a rush of affection and hug me tight, for no apparent reason. She knows exactly how much space to give, and when to interfere. She takes time out to listen, and to advise. She cares enough to chide me when I do something wrong – even when it is something as trivial as wearing accessories that can turn into potential fashion faux pas. She obliges me when I ask her to teach me songs, or help me with complicated Bengali lyrics. She does not tell me what I want to hear; rather, she tells me exactly what I need to be told, whenever I am en route to thinking an immature thought or making an incorrect decision. And she does a million other things which gently speak of affection, of concern. And that is how I learn, that love isn’t about being vocal. More often than not, it is simply about being Sri.
Much Love,
Me.
Everything
Seems like so long a wait
I give up,
Then I begin to hope again...
And then I give up once more.
When will the wait come to an end?
Will the wait ever come to an end?
Is this only so that something better comes my way?
Who is to say?
I try
Oh, so hard,
To do other things that make me happy
But there are times
When I feel
Like I'm fooling myself.
Will the spurts of my optimism
End up looking like conniving illusions?
Or will it be worth the long,long wait?
I do not know,
Nor do you.
Maybe someone up there knows,
But I guess He has other problems to solve at the moment.
So I begin to dare
Dare to feel that glimmer of hope again.
Someday,maybe someday,
My hope will not let me down.
And the long, long wait
Will be worth it.
Dear Rahul,
I am sorry I did not leave you a scrap, or write on your wall, the way others did. The truth is, I simply couldn’t. I could not ask you to “Rest In Peace” the way everyone else did, I could not ask you to take care, I could not ask God why He did that to you. Did you think I was unfair? Or cold? Did you wonder why I kept visiting your Orkut and Facebook profiles, why I kept looking at all your pictures?
You weren’t my closest friend. But you were a friend. We acknowledged each other with smiles and the occasional short conversation. And ever so often, you added a smile to my day with your comments on my FB posts. Even as I write this, it bugs me that I never took the time out to specially write on your wall. I am so sorry.
Do you remember the day all of us went out to eat at Galleria, Rahul? That was the first time we actually spoke. Amidst parathas and schezwan rolls. Today, I passed the same green benches that we all had sat on that afternoon. A group of friends was sitting there today too. Oblivious to the shocks that life can suddenly bomb on them. How unpredictable life can be.
I do not know what else I can say. Fragments of memories flow erratically in my mind. Of how I always thought that you bore an uncanny resemblance to a friend of mine. Of the time you “photo-graphed” all the notes I had made, as against “photo-copying” them, so you could refer to them before your interview. Of the last, the very last time you wrote on my wall, on the 19th of November. Ironically, your words were “Facebook se kabhi retirement nahin milegi”.
I struggle to find more memories. But we had very little of them. Maybe that is good in a way – for then, the main thing I remember is your smiling, happy-go-lucky face.
I miss you, Rahul.
Always,
Tanushree.
