Because I have ignored you for a long long time...

Blog,


I am sorry. I just haven't been able to concentrate on you for a while now. 


Today, on one of those trips, where I hop from blog to blog, and read bits and pieces of what other bloggers  have written, I wonder how they get time to write so beautifully. Rather, I wonder how they manage to make time.And then I envy them, envy their patience and calmness of mind, and I feel a teensy bit of anger on my own self, for not trying too hard, probably.


I don't think words come to me as easily as they used to. At least, the big, nice words.(Have I actually ever managed to use big words??)


My blog followers have been stuck at 48 for the longest time now! :-(


I guess it is a mix of too much work, and lots of travelling, and very little peace of mind.


But I guess for hyper freaks like me, peace of mind doesn't come easy. Maybe it is time I made my peace with that. (Ironic, hehe.)


I think this is the first time I don't have any qualms about sounding silly on my blog. 


I am also happy I am writing here, devoid of inhibitions, after a long long time. No premeditated, rehearsed, written and deleted and rewritten thoughts - just an easy flow of words. It is like talking to a close friend, with no one around, no one eavesdropping and making judgements, you know?


Thank you for listening, Blog. You are always so unconditional.


I love you too.


I'll drop by again later, okay?


Don't miss me too much. And if you do, call out to me the way you do and I'll come, the way I do.


XOXO.

silly.

I want to make a silly poem, with you.

:P

Ramblings...

Let me see.
I want to write,
About what,
I do not know.
I think,
I want to ask questions.
To whom,
I do not know.
I want to argue,
About things unchangeable,
With whom,
I do not know.
I want to frame sentences
Sentences that explain,
What they should explain,
I do not know.
I want to speak my mind,
And say what I feel,
What I feel,
I do not know.
I want to break into a song,
A song that describes it all,
What it should describe,
I do not know.


But
I do know,
That there is Hope.
Hope that will never die.
Hope that will keep rekindling the Fire,
The Fire of Dreams
The Fire of Belief
The Fire of Passion
The Fire in my belly,
The Fire that is Me.


So I may fall,
But I will Rise,
I may bleed,
But I will Heal,
I may err,
But I will Learn.


And that is all that matters.

"Something Called Polo"

The year 2008 changed a lot of things for me. I began with a new stint academically. I met new people, I formed new equations.I started pursuing a lot of forgotten interests. I developed some new ones. I also learnt that I could love again – I only had to try a little harder, and believe a little more.

This isn’t a story about how a lot of things changed me, or about how I changed a few things around myself – that will take up a lot of time, and make for many little stories. This is about one of those little stories – about how, among all the changes, something called Polo happened to me.

The first I remember of her is on an Orkut Community for our college. She struck me as bold, really bold – and definitely not someone I could be friends with. But then, we got talking. And we would speak for hours every other day. About the man she loved and wanted to marry, about the man I loved so much but could not marry, about her cocker spaniel, about my pomeranian, about our XLRI and IIM Dads, about the active social life that she led, about the boring existence that was my life. And somewhere, in this jumbled equation of startling similarities and crazy differences, I found a friend. A rock-steady friend.

We decided that when we both moved to Chennai for our MBA, we would be roomies. I was unsure, but I needed the madness, the difference in lifestyle, the change that Polo would bring into my world. And I was really looking forward to it.

But then, I received an offer to study in Bombay. And it seemed like a practical thing to do, because my mom was alone in the city. So I chose it over the other life that I had already started to construct so imaginatively in my head.

Once the MBA course began, we lost touch. But a year and a half later, Polo’s parents moved to Bombay, and soon, Polo followed, with a transfer to my campus. We finally met, and spent the last semester together.

In what would turn out to be another coincidence, we both got placed on the same day in the same organization. While choosing our locations, she opted for Gurgaon and I for Mumbai.

The day before she left, I went to meet her. Both of us were on the verge of starting another phase of our lives. This time too, we were eerily parallel.

With the jobs, staying in touch became difficult again. Once in a while, we would speak and update each other on our lives. She seemed to love her role, I hated mine.

Last year, I changed jobs and moved to a profile of my choice, a job that I love. Earlier this year, Polo got married to Anand, after more than five years of a beautiful, fulfilling courtship. I couldn’t make it to the wedding.

Recently, I went to Gurgaon on an official trip, and met Polo (now Mrs. Anand!) after almost two years. Things were just the same - conversations were easy and from the heart. I told her my parents were groom-hunting and that sometimes it got scary. She told me I was “gorgeous and honest and creative and fun and caring bloody brilliant” and that “I shouldn’t settle for something or someone less”.

I met Anand as well, and absolutely loved the couple. Polo asked me for my approval (yes, after five and a half years of courtship and two months of wedded life!!) and I very willingly gave her the thumbs up.

Last week, I received a random phone call from her early in the morning, when I was at work. “Tanu!!” She shrieked into the phone, and continued, “So I called my mom some time back, and said to her, Ma, go find Tanu a nice guy!”

“Erm…o…kay??” I responded. “Yeah!!” She went on, excited.  “And then I called my mom-in-law, and I told her the same thing! So you are in any case looking right? Always better to have someone who knows you look out for you!”

I wanted to tell her that her mom-in-law hadn’t the faintest clue who I was, but her earnestness, her enthusiasm were way too touching. I laughed and told her she was crazy. And we hung up grinning and went back to work.

After four years of knowing Polo, I think we were destined to connect in the craziest ways. I think back to that first day I saw her on Orkut, and of how convinced I was that she was “too cool” for me to gel well with her. I realize, off and on, that we have counted more and more similarities between our lives every now and then.

Today, four years later, she is still crazy, still bold, still unconventional, still forthright. She is also still one of the warmest, most honest, most genuine people I have known. I wonder what made us click, despite hiatuses in communication and distances in location. And I realize something that I am now putting in words for the first time…Polo and I may keep counting our similarities all our lives, but it is the differences that have kept us really strong. And for those differences, and the intermittent crisscrossing of our destinies, and for the time that something called Polo happened to me, I will always be grateful!!

Much Love,

Me.

"Invisibility"

I want to fade away

into that realm of oblivion

Where I can scream out my deepest fears

Where no one will hear me.

I want to write

Freely, sans inhibitions

On a clean slate
That no one can see.

I want to paint
Images in garish and subtle colours alike
On a canvas
That no one can judge.

Invisibility,
How I long for thee.

On Today...

I coax sleep into my tired eyes 
And mind
And soul
Wake up in the morning
To the same uncertainty
The day begins on a wrong note
Things happen
Things that I do not like
Things that daringly question my new-found belief
A belief that is supporting my sanity right now.
I almost break. I feel the tears stinging my eyes.
But I hold on.
I pull on
Not letting go of the goals that I have set
I do my bit to achieve every one of them.
Then 
The day ends
I leave
To begin another journey.
I wonder if I will buckle,
Somewhere, in the middle of the rut
Of one journey after another.
Of one challenge after another.
But I know I can't give up.
I know I won't give up.
That is the other belief.
In the mean time
There is the warmth
Of unknown, unseen 'strangers'
Of the familiarity of family
Of the wagging tails of my dogs
Of actual jokes on Facebook that make me laugh,
Because they are genuinely funny.
I like that variety of laughter more
Than the kind that sarcasm or irony evoke.
And that is how it shall remain.
Oh
Did I forget to mention 
The simple joy
Of a triangular block of Toblerone?
(The strongest chocolate by design, apparently!)
Anyhow...
In this way,
Piecing together bits and chances of happiness,
I get through Today,
And wait
To welcome Tomorrow.