Sunday, November 07, 2010

Palindrome

I’ve sat for an hour trying to write a poem. And it goes without saying – for it’s been already been said – that it just hasn’t come. Oh, I had one, ready to fly off my pen when I put it to paper – on week ago. Now I’ve got flickers of what it was, random words that were the structure of what it was supposed to be, but no poem. In one week, where did my poem go? In one week, how did so much change? Not in just one week only – in a day, an hour, a blink of an eye – when the change happened, even I do not know. How is it possible? Words want to put this experience in record, a memorial of some sort, but the experience itself defies expression.

I sit here alone. Surrounded by crowds, all going this way and that, on their business, and all I can think is of that over clichéd saying about the world and that one person. That one person who becomes your entire world. It is very scary. It’s the scariest feeling in the world – because you know once you let it happen, the second you lose them – that’s it. It. Poof. Bam. Ow.

Just thinking about it, it gives me shivers. Butterflies. Cold hands. I’m scared. I admit it. For all my bluster and bravado about love being nonsense, and marriage a sham, I confess ( I confess!) it’s only that – a sham of its own. Bluster and bravado. My shield of some sort. I don’t know. I guess you tend to want to, try to, need to, protect the very thing most close to heart. In my case, it’s exactly that – my heart.

I am scared. Because I know that if I let myself go, I will keep falling. I know, I know, I need to learn to bungee jump. And there I go again, my humour; what’s with that, right? Is it another self-constructed defence? I suppose, but then again, I do believe you’ve got to laugh at yourself first. It’s what I do. When I slip on ice and land on my glutes in public, yeah, I laugh! So do I take a page from my own book, and learn something? Fall, laugh? Fall, laugh!

No, I’m still scared. Maybe more than ever.

Tell me, does this love at first sight thing really happen? I believe in it. But believing in something, and it occurring to you, they’re really different things. When it happens if?) you go, “Wow.”, you go, “Whoa.”, you might go, “Watda?!” Well, I believe in it, but what I want to know is, how do you KNOW? Seriously, not fooling yourself into believing it’s what you wish it would be- how do you know? That’s the scary part.

Now, you’re going to want to know why I believe in such a thing, right. I may as well believe in Santa Clause, right? (Well, for your information, I do. Ha!). Ok. Love at first sight. Not infatuation, not lust, not eye candy. Love at first sight. Why? Because I do. Why do I do? Because, simply, I believe in soulmates. I do! I’ve wrote about this before. I believe someone has got that missing part of you out there, the muniute you meet, you feel something. Like a piece that’s clicked back in place. And you sort of don’t know why. It’s just one of those things that are beyond reason. You might know why. You might know sooner or later. But the feeling itself, damn, beyond explanation. The hard part is knowing for sure. Because you’re going to have been wrong that many times before.

I guess I've just got to find out.                   

Wednesday, November 03, 2010

Frost

Hello World! :D


(suhaniiiiiiiiiiiiii suhaniiiiiiiiiiiiiii suhaniiiiiiii :P)


I had planned to blog on the first of the month, welcome special little November in with open arms with my usual spiel. Got busy, and sidetracked, if you could call it that (as blogging is usually my way off the path, right).

Well, it's the third. Not too late, can't be too late to let one cherish something special na.

If I could have my way, I would be putting big smile smileys on the end of every line. Well, I do have my way, but I choose not to because I prefer writing as writing ought to be. Ah well!

Anyways, since the start of November, well the world has simply been GORGEOUS...in more ways than could possibly be described. Lack of sleep (kyun aajkal neend kam aur khwaab zyaada hai?) and food and all that stuff that gets put to the side in the face of more important things..regardless, the world remains just so beautiful!!

When it hits you, when the sun shines all that much brighter after a long time of gray skies, well you feel its just so much WORTH it, somehow, to have suffered, to know the blessed feeling of ..the sunshine.

The worst part is enjoying it, letting yourself really enjoy it, and then have it taken away .. I guess that's the fear that keeps us appreciating what we have today, and what keeps us holding back entirely..but why waste the time worrying about it, when you've got precious moments to cherish it and smile for today.

That said, I have got to get back on that so called welltread path and get some more work done! BOOHOO but its almost at the end.. so will have some relief to look forward to.. ahh sleep and, yes yes, food :P


Everything looks so beautiful today ..more so, because of all the yesterdays we thought were not. :D


Nowww let the musiicc playy on :D
suhaniiiiiiiiiii suhaniiiiiiiiiiii
suhaniiiiiiiiiiiiiiii suhaniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii suhaniiiiiiiii

the song that's been on my mind this past three days hehehe :
Mausam suhana duniya bhi kitni suhaani
Kitne haseen yeh pal, dheere dheere chal..zindagaani :D
Manzil hai saathi mujhko sunaati kahaani
Ab na kabhi tu badal dheere dheere chal zindagani :)

Hai nayi aarzoo..raah guzar rubaru
Armaan jaage hai.. haule haule kahein
Yeh bahaar chalen, yunhi pyaar chalen
Dil ki maujon mein dekho nayi hai rawani
Kitne haseen yeh pal dheere dheere chal zindagaani

Mausam suhana duniya bhi kitni suhaani
Kitne haseen yeh pal dheere dheere chal zindagaani

Ek nasha chha gaya..tera naam aa gaya ..
Hothon pe mere puchha jo hawa ne,
Mere yaar bata.. tere dil ka pata
Jahaan base dil wohi hai duniya basani
Kitne haseen yeh pal dheere dheere chal zindagaani

Mausam suhana.. duniya bhi kitni suhaani
Kitne haseen yeh pal dheere dheere chal zindagaani

zindagaaanii
zindagaaaniiii
zindagaaagniiiiiiiiiiii


:D


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Saturday, October 30, 2010

The Villain I Am.

I am so incredibly happy! I can't explain the feeling, the revelation behind being understood truly! This is by far the most accurate quiz on what type of villain I am, and the feeling it brings to me is such that I just have to share this joy.

SO TRUE!

You're the DARK AVENGER!
The Dark Avenger is emotionally dead, at least that's what she thinks. She used to be a normal, happy person, but then something tragical happened and she lost it. Now she seeks justice and hunts down those who wronged her, and doesn't let anything or anyone get in between her and her revenge. The thing is that even if the Dark Avenger got her revenge, she would probably still go on killing and destroying rampantly, because the tragedy that changed her life changed her soul for good. She avenges her tragedy over and over again to anyone, or anything. She tries to fill the empty gap in her heart with the blood she spills, knowing that it will never be enough.

Strengths: The Dark Avenger may be also physically strong and blessed with special powers, but her greatest assert is still her determination. She's ready to go as far it takes to get what she wants.

Weaknesses: Traumas and surpressed memories of the past. Reminding her of the pain that turned her into what she is, or the happiness she felt before it happened may distract her.

Famous Dark Avengers: O-Ren Ishii from Kill Bill, Carrie from Carrie, the ghost from the Grudge.

*
If you ever became a fictional villain, you'd be the Dark Avenger because you feel very angry inside,thinking that the world has hurt you badly, and sometimes you wish you could hurt the world back twice as bad just to let everyone know how you feel. To avoid this, just keep in mind that revenge is never the answer, because hurting others doesn't help you heal yourself, nor will it change the past. If you feel empty inside, filling yourself with hate will only make things first.



I'm not this evil, but if I were to be, this is pretty apt. :D

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Rain

Naina lagiyan baarishan
Te sukke sukke sapne vi pijj gaye
Naina lagiyan baarishan
Rove palkan de kone vich neend meri
Naina lagiyan baarishan
Hanju digde ne chot lage dil te
Naina lagiyan baarishan
Rut birha de badlan di chhaa gayi

These lines are just amazing. Everytime I make myself not hear the song -- despite it being overplayed, as usual -- and I come back to it, the lyrics just take my breath away again.

It's just so amazing to come to terms with the fact that everything we experience is already been experienced that many times over. We feel that living it, feeling it, loving, hurting, pain, all of those things we meet with face on is some part of what makes us unique, what makes us distinct. We have to come to realize that we are not. We aren't. We don't want to be just anyone, another number. But what makes us different.

What makes our pain anything more special?



I found that we might prefer to hold on to our pain because it stimulates a purpose within. To attempt to even eradicate this pain may be akin to losing ourself, our sense of identity. I don't know what it is, but even continuance with that pain lessens the pain itself. It's so hard to let go of it, but it somehow cures it of itself. For, that pain that has been felt changes the pain itself, it changes the love itself, and beckons the question whether if that love has changed, can it then persevere? How can you reconcile this love that has been blurred back to the distinct image you once had. I don't know. I don't have the answers. If I did, I guess I wouldn't have asked them.

Maybe.

I just know that I ask myself why I pass this time in this occupation when there is much of the world I could dedicate this energy to.

It doesn't have to end in love really, does it? I mean, just because I don't get a happy ending does not mean that I can't make one for the world, for others, right?

Sometimes, you just have to bear the pain; when it hurts the most -- like cutting off a part of yourself that has become diseased -- you just have to grit your teeth together, hold your head high, face to the sky, breath in the oxygen, and it would almost look as if you were smiling.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

For You ~

You Have To Stay Strong
Have you ever felt like all hope is lost?
Being so desperate,
No matter the cost?

Then listen now,
To what I have to say,
It'll give you hope,
And might change your life today.

Look back and remember,
All the good memories forever.
Think about the people you care,
And the happy moments that you've shared.

You have to stay strong,
And give life another chance,
Know that your needed,
It could be your only defence.

Always remember that,
When things go wrong,
It's not the end of the world,
You have to stay strong.


haha :D I know I sound a bit hypo, but what can I say? It usually takes me a down to find a way back up - and it isn't just the being up again that is important, it's what I've learnt on the journey (yes, I know you know this as well but I just have to say it, for it to be said :)). It's a shaky stage, and when you're finding a way back into the light, you almost feel the layers shedding, you feel the change -- inside and out. It hurts too, can't deny that. It hurts because you have to let go of those layers that have kept you safe for so long. But it's time to become reafreshened. I know that isn't a word, but it suits na. :D I can't even point out what it was that made me feel this way this morning. In fact, I am not even sure I will go back into my blanket of fallen layers in search of missing parts that don't feel so good without. Can't guarantee anything na :D But I can guarantee that here I am for you, despite however alone you feel now and then. Can't be there for every minute you know, but then again, that's what makes being there for you through it all all the more important, nay- special.

Sometimes, you've been protected from so much in life. And funniest thing you learn is that those who have been worried for you the most, those who seemed to care the most, who wanted you to be safe from being hurt the most, they're the ones who pull the tableclothe away and make it all break- inside. And hey, what else could hurt the most than that, right? Maybe that's why it does hurt. Because they had such a special place, and they let that go, apparently without a care.

In any case, all we can do is let them go too. In the end we all join the light alone na? Without anyone else's help too. Can you imagine that. WHOA :D haha

So stay strong my friend, I will for you, and you will for me. Because in the end, it's us. No matter what. :)

This is the song that's making me feel like just staying face up in the hawa and sunshine that's shining down on me like a song by itself. :D



Bulla kahe tuu kucch bhi nahin
Main bhi kahoon main kucch bhi nahin
Naa des mera;Naa mitti meri
Main hoon banjaara
Meri hi zameen pe
Main kaun hoon... Main kaun hoon
Kyon apne jahaan me
Main hoon ajnabee

Naa jaane kyon aisa ho gaya
Begaani hui apni jagah
Naa jaane kyon apni hi taraf

Utttee hain sabhi ki ungliyaan
Ab toh yakeen khud pe bhi nahin
Anjaana hain har lamhaa yahaan
Nazre churaaye aankhein jhukaaye
Kab tak jeeye hum is tarah
Kaisi khata thi jo yeh sazaa di
Humko kahin ka naa rakhaa

Jannat thi apni sarzamee
Sufi humko kehte sabhi
Ab toh koi mujrim koi aatanki keh rahaa
Main kaun hoon... Main kaun hoon

Kyon apne jahaan me
Main hoon ajnabee

Chehre to sabke hain haseen
Par dil main hain bas aag hi
Bujhti nahiin jo jal rahi
Jo pooche baarhaan

Main kaun hoon... Main kaun hoon
Kyon apne jahaan me
Main hoon ajnabee


:D

ILU :D

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Courage

So I did this personality analysis thing at this Japanese Happy Science (buddhist) booth awhile ago. You answer one question, your choice leads you to another question, which leads to another depending on your answer, etc. The first question was which animal appeals to me most, and my answer was a white magical flying horse. So, eventually you get a final output on your personality type.

This is me.

6.Artistic and big-hearted guardian spirit with a great sense of harmony. Your guardian spirit loves arts, music, and nature equally. Those guided by this type of spirit have an evolved aestethic sense and exhibit their individuality in their home and fashion. This spirit craves freedom and will not be tired down in organizations. You emphasize harmony and do not like fighting. You are aloof and easygoing and others may misunderstand you to be a strange person. The inspirational word form your guardian spirit is "courage". Vienna is an ideal desitnation if travel is in your plans.

Tere bagair tadpa karein
Tere bagair sapne rootha karein
Maana ke hai duniya haseen
Tere bagair duniya hum kya karein
Dilkash dildaar duniya, tera dedaar duniya
Hum jo na paaye tujhko, toh hai bekaar duniya
Dilkash dildaar duniya, tera dedaar duniya
Hum jo na paaye tujhko, toh hai bekaar duniya

Tere bagair beraunaki
Tere bagair khushiyan, hum kya karein
Mausam sabhi hain dard ke
Tere bagair aur yeh tanha karein
Dilkash dildaar duniya, tera dedaar duniya
Hum jo na paaye tujhko, toh hai bekaar duniya
Dilkash dildaar duniya, tera dedaar duniya
Hum jo na paaye tujhko, toh hai bekaar duniya

Dhoop pheeki lagey, din udaasi bhara
Shaam roothi lagey, haal yeh ho gaya
Jaagte hum rahein, karwaton se kahein
Khwaab hi woh koi dhoond laaye naya


Neendein meri bhaagi hui
Tere bagair raatein ab kya karein
O bekhabar, o bekadar
Tere bagair har pal bikhra karein
Dilkash dildaar duniya, tera dedaar duniya
Hum jo na paaye tujhko, toh hai bekaar duniya
Dilkash dildaar duniya, tera dedaar duniya
Hum jo na paaye tujhko, toh hai bekaar duniya


:)

Thursday, October 07, 2010

Sprig

SUNSHINEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

After such a long long time, I've been infected with the sunshine bug! It feels so great, I honestly can't describe this feeling. Despite everything else that may be pulling me down and around and around, there it is, me living through it all :D

I miss those good old days, everyone used to call me Sunshine ehehe just hearing it being called from far and around the corner and everything, it was like my new name, it replaced my name. Just got a dose of flashback - I miss it, but like someone who was one of the best friends I had, for however short that time - it's up to me to live it, now! A whole bunch of songs from Aashayein are playing and all of a sudden, it's like a butterfly flying around me and then finally landing and its like CLICK its back home where it belongs.

For however short this feeling lasts, at least I'll have it down for record.

Image


Let the Sunshine In! :D

Ab hai ujaala, ab hai savera
Ab inn hawaon, pe kar loon basera
Ab main zamaane ko humraaz kar loon
Ab aasmaano pe parwaaz kar loon
Iss pal mein, hai mujh ko jeena
Ab mujhko jeena

Nakaamiyon se darna kya
Jeene se pehle marna kya
Jhoom kar mera dil ab yeh mujh se kahe
Zindagi hai to zinda dili bhi rahe
Ab iraadon ko hai thaan lena
Ab to khwaabon pe hai jaan dena
Iss pal mein, hai mujh ko jeena
Ab mujhko jeena


Anjaana kal na maanoon main
Yeh pal hai apna jaanoon main
Yahan chaaron taraf pyaar ke silsile
Dekho veeraniyon mein bhi dil hain mile
Apni manzil ki mujh ko khabar hai
Ab to himmat meri humsafar hai
Iss pal mein, hai mujh ko jeena
Ab mujhko jeena


:)

Wednesday, October 06, 2010

Azure

It's cold!

"It's not that I'm afraid anymore - I'm not. It's just that I'm skeptical. I'm skeptical that things are going to be normal again. I doubt that we'll ever be the same - and I guess I am afraid I'll miss who we were."

Every betrayal begins with trust.

I figured out that betrayal doesn't just mean an act of deceit in some form. Betrayal is not just turning around and stabbing someone in the back. Sometimes even trust itself is continously there, when betrayal occurs. Betrayal in the mind. Betrayal in the heart. Just a thought. I mean, I'm here, you're there. We have this deep ingrained sense of understanding each other, of believing we know the other person for what they are, and yet, as the day gets longer, sometimes it is the lack of any act at all that taints the very same trust. You question it, because in having that deep sense of trust, you realize that you take it for granted; that's what the trust is. But when you realize this, you wonder if taking it for granted is actually eroding that trust, because when you keep assuming it is there, you sometimes wish to corroborate that; and sometimes that person isn't there to do so. Or simply doesn't. And that lack of effort on their part makes you question it further -- don't they care? Perhaps it's a reverse psychological reaction, but it's still a stain on the pure white; you can grow from it but it was in some form of conveyance, a level of some betrayal. Who knows. I certainly don't.

Song for today :D

O bekhabar, o bekadar, betaabiyon ko na badah
Dekh le hai pyaar ka kaisa nasha mujhpe chadha
O bekhabar, o bekadar, betaabiyon ko na badah
Dekh le hai pyaar ka kaisa nasha mujhpe chadha
Kaisa nasha mujhpe chadha ..

O bekhabar, o bekadar, betaabiyon, bechainiyan hai jawan
Meri nazar dhoonde tujhe tu kahan
Haan tujhko main aankhon ka kaajal bana loon
O bekhabar, o bekadar, betaabiyon, bechainiyan hai jawan
Chaahungi main yuhin tujhe bepanha
Haan tujhko khushi sa labho pe saja loon
O bekhabar, o bekadar, betaabiyon ko na badah
Dekh le hai pyaar ka kaisa nasha mujhpe chadha
Kaisa nasha mujhpe chadha ..

Roop hoon teri dhoop hoon
Tu suraj hai mann ka mere
Ya ghani main hoon roshni
Ab chalte hoon dhalte hoon tujhko hi
Haan mere ik pehar, tu kahe thehar
Toh jaaon nagar se tere
Har ghadi mushkilon bari
Kyun lagti hai jo bhi badalti hai bin tere
Tu mile toh silsile, ho shuru jo hai khuda ki raza
Tere bina hai zindagi bemaza
Tu mil jaaye toh main jahan se chhupa loon
O bekhabar, o bekadar, betaabiyon, bechainiyan hai jawan
Meri nazar dhoonde tujhe tu kahan
Haan tujhko main aankhon ka kaajal bana loon
O bekhabar, o bekadar, betaabiyon ko na badah
Dekh le hai pyaar ka kaisa nasha mujhpe chadha

Dreams Do Not Die



Khwaab marte nahin
Khwaab dil hain na aankhein na saansein ke jo
Rezaa-rezaa hue to bikhar jayenge
Jism ki maut se yeh bhi mar jayenge

Khwaab marte nahin
Khwaab to roshni hain, navaa hain, hawa hain
Jo kaale paharon se rukte nahin
Zulm ke dozakhon se bhi pukhte nahin
Roshni aur navaa aur hawa ka alam
Maqtalon mein pohanch kar bhi jhukte nahin

Khwaab to harf hain
Khwaab to noor hain
Khwaab to suqraat hain
Khwaab mansoor hain



Faraz.

Friday, October 01, 2010

Opal

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Hello October!

Can't really believe that September has gone so fast. I feel like it's gone in a blink of an eye, not really being able to recall what happened; and yet, so much has happened, so much has changed. Isn't that what September usually denotes? Change. The decline in temperature, the colours emerging on leaves, the fall of them at the whisper of wind, the start of new things. And, yes, so much, in fact, quite alot, has changed, both outside, and somehow within. Some things, granted will always be there, irremovable, because it's that much a part of yourself. But then again, life itself is dynamic, and succumbs to change.

Why is change one of those recurring themes? Because it's so constant? It's one of those things you can continuously expound on. It hurts in many cases, but you've still got to accept it. Embrace it.

I had a beautiful day. That's saying something for the first of October. It's another of those firsts, that have you feeling like its a new slate, ready for that splash of color. First, it was what I call my Tum Se Hi weather, you know it: bright blue skies, wispy white clouds, and plenty of sunshine. Recipe to make your heart smile. Also perfect Sitting on the Bench writing weather. Yes! After months, I was back on my orange bench under the (still green) trees, with the warm sun beaming on my head, writing! Trust me when I say this, but that's one of the best feelings ever, and yeah, there are alot of them.

You want to know what's another? Missing someone so much you almost hate them, feel miserable, wake up feeling horrible, you miss them when they're right there! It's a killing feeling, but let me tell you, it makes you feel wonderful deep down inside to know that feeling. It's confusing, yes, but it makes you feel a little more ..alive.

Sometimes you just can't help but smile, no matter what you're feeling, because, well, you're feeling.

Today, haven't got a song, rather, a shair.

Mujhe yaad hai woh din
jab main bhaage bhaage tumhaare paas aati thi
tumhe bataane …ke suno, aaj aisa hua ke..

Aur tum.. hanskar
Mere ehsaasaat se bekhabar
Mujhse kehte
"phir kabhi bataana ...abhi zara masroof hoon"

mooh latkaaye chalee jaati thi
par intezaar rehta
tumhe bataane ka..
ke aaj aisa hua ke..

bewaqoof thi main
aur itni…yeh kabhi nahin socha
ke tumhe kya …agar aaj aisa hua ke…

aur jab ..
aaj aisa hua ke...
main tumhaaree taraf mudee
rokk liya maine apne aap ko
sambhal gayi hoon ab main…shaayad?

par phir bhi gham hai
ke aaj aisa hua ke….


:DViewed 4 times

Monday, September 27, 2010

Moral of the Story

It was a dark and stormy night. The wind was blowing angrily, the skies were tossing and turning, and the sun had long since escaped behind the horizon now hidden by the tumult of clouds fighting in the heavens. It was a dark and stormy night, and the little dove was struggling against the winds, trying to find her way home.

She didn't even notice when the winds had picked up, when the light had started dimming. She had been soaring up there on the thermals, higher than she had ever been before. Higher than she was actually allowed to go. How could a bird not strive to the highest of it's ability. To fly, to soar up there above the world, almost touching the heavens, to rise and rise above everything else pulling down. How could she not let go of it all, and fly. Fly, and feel the wind through her feathers, the warmth of the sunshine on her face. Just fly, and feel the freedom, the peace of being up there in the clouds, of being there of her own will and ability, without any expectations of what she had to do, of what she should do. There was no other glory as that of being up there alone. Alone.

Alone was something she was used to. Is used to. But it was something different to be alone on one's own choice, than be subjected to loneliness by those around her. And that stubborn rebellious side of her within always strived to make her own choices.

And now here she was, caught out in the middle of the worst storm she'd seen in her life. She couldn't blame anyone else but herself. This she knew. If there was any way out of this storm she had only herself to rely on.

Then a gust of wind slammed into her body, and she felt the ache in her muscles, from flying all day. She knew she had to keep up her will, because the minute she let her guard down, she would surely plummet, or be taken away with the wind to whatever end it met.

In the darkness, the rain suddenly belted down, whipping her, beak to tail. It stung her eyes, it pierced through her feathers, and the rain washed back out of her eyes. Blinking, she couldn't tell what was the rain, and what was her own tears. She couldn't keep it up. Her muscles sagged in exhaustion, and she closed her eyes as she decided to try to descend to whatever destination lay below.

As she felt the decline in altitude, she opened her eyes, and there in front of her was light!

Light, light, it was actually light. She said a prayer of thanks, as the relief surged through her body. She steadied herself with determination and flew towards it.

Somehow in the darkness, she alit on a windowsill, within which was a candle alit with a single flame. As it flickered in the darkness, the dove became entranced by the dance of its shadows and light. There wasn't anyone else but her and the flame.

The dove felt a strange feeling overcome her as she imagined how she would have had come out of that storm without this flame. She raised her wing and touched the glass separating her from the flame. The flame stopped flickering and stilled. The dove bowed her head down, and whispered a thank you to it, and it flickered once, then became still.

As the wind howled, and the storm continued, the dove could not make herself leave. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep there with the flame before her.

In the days that followed, the dove would join her flock and fly with them, then leave them as twilight neared, soaring each night to the windowsill to meet the flame. Sometimes the flame would dance and make her laugh. Sometimes it just listened without blinking. Sometimes they just sat there companiably in silence, enjoying the stars and moon, listening to the music of the wind. Each night the dove would fall asleep on the windowsill and arise before dawn, heading back to her roost.

One night as the dove was soaring through the evening sky on her way to the windowsill as usual, she felt a curious feeling- of happiness, but of confusion, and she didn't know what it was. As she didn't know, she decided maybe the flame would know, he seemed to know everything, just from sitting there quietly.

As she landed on the windowsill, she smiled to herself, looking forward to the evening together. The flame flickered in welcome, and smiled back to her. Curiously, she asked "Are you alit all the time? How come?".

The flame grew still, and said, "As long as you are there to see me, I am."

The dove was touched, and she didn't know how to convey her feelings. Then, she noticed that the window was a bit open. She put her wing to it and it opened more. She walked through, and came closer to the candle than she had ever been. She paused, and whispered, "I hope you know that you mean a lot to me."

The flame grew stiller yet, she paused, and asked, "You do know that, right?". There was no response, and the dove's heart thudded. Maybe she had been mistaken all along. "Say something won't you?"

As the flame stayed still, the dove approached closer. Mesmerized as she always was by the intensity of the flame, she held her breath. Still yet, the flame kept silent. The dove felt a horrible feeling inside her, something she never had felt before, and did not know what it was; whatever it was, it did not feel good- was that pain?

A tear dropped from her eye and she brushed it away in her feathers. She turned to go, as the flame still remained still, then turned back once more. She raised her wing and reached to the flame. It flickered once, away from her, and she stopped for a moment, once again entranced by the magic his light had on her, then she made up her mind and caressed the flame with the tip of her wing.

The feathers caught aflame, and the dove pulled back quickly, burnt. The flame tilted low once, and before she knew what was happening, the flame went out.

The dove stayed there all night. Waiting, hoping, that it would somehow come back. When the darkness did not change, she sadly flew out the window.

Everyday, the dove would sit on the tree outside the window. And, everynight, there was no light. Days passed, weeks passed. She hardly ate, she hardly slept. The dove tried playing with other doves, she tried flying again, but nothing cured the hurt within.

Eventually, the dove had taken to living in the tree outside the window, but would leave it each morning to go out into the world, and come back late at night, tired from the long day.

One night, she returned home, and saw a light gleaming in the window. Her heartbeat froze for the smallest fraction of a second. Everything in her ached to go see beyond the curtains of the window, but she instead flew into the tree, and slept.

She continued to live so, returning each night with the light there, so near, but still so far. At first, the flame stayed low, and still, as if hiding from itself. Eventually, it grew brighter.

Until one evening, there was a tap on the windowpane, and there the dove was, looking at her friend, the flame. At first the flame remained quiet, as if not knowing what to say. Then the dove just smiled, and he smiled back.

Their friendship grew again, each night filled with that same companionship. The dove brought back stories of her day filled with adventures in the skies. Not once did they mention that night the dove's heart broke.

Then one day, the flame had to know. He thought about what they shared and decided they had to clear it out, or else the friendship would be still false. The more he thought about it all day, the sooner he wished the dove would come. Evening approached, and she did not come. Night approached, she did not come. He waited all the hours of the night, and still she did not come.

Morning dawned, and the flame was low on its wick. He missed the dove. He missed her terribly.

There was a flutter of wings on the windowsill, and there she came. She greeted him with a big smile and apologized. The flame decided things were just better without mentioning everything else, and listened to her story of the day before.

The dove went back to her tree that night, and noticed the flame flickering goodnight. She smiled to herself, a little bit sadly, then shook out her feathers, and tried to sleep.

The next night, the flame brought up the topic, "Tell me O dove why you come here each night?".

The dove smiled, "I told you this many moons ago, and I suffered, why shall I tell you again?"

"This time I promise I shall not burn you, come within, and tell me again."

"If you need to ask, then once is enough, once will always be enough. I won't be able to take it a second time."

"I promise, I will not burn."

"Then you do not understand. The pain I suffered was not that you burnt me, it was that I lost you.."                    

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Vine

I have had songs upon songs upon songs stuck in my head. Three, to be more accurate. When I woke up in the dark I had Neendaran (Gee, I wonder why?) going on and on, without stopping until I got my bus. Then, I fell in love again with this song (The Song), can't get it out of my head! Actually the whole album is something, it has it all I guess, and it's been a long time since a full album has done that.

Then after tramping through the forests all morning, I came to realize I had been humming/singing Bin Tere (re: last blog), which is currently the one still stuck in my head. I don't know why I had to blog about that, but the song- sorry correction The Song, that I am in love with is all I wanted to post. Okay, here's the thing. I was on the bus this morning, listening, and when it came on, it made me stop, and I felt this.. FEELING.. just come over me, like into my bones, into my bloodstream, and I felt something knocking at the locked dungeon door of my heart. Knocking to come out.

What I felt was a bit scared, and a bit like hey, I know this feeling. And then that feeling that hey, I don't want to reacquaint myself with it, it's enough to know it is there, but dont mess with that stuff beti if you know what's good for you.

Okay. I know what's good for me. But I know that what that song made me felt, also felt good. I missed that feeling. I know that I feel it everyday despite how much I deny that I don't, but it's more like a background process, that's scheduled to run each day, like my heartbeat, like each time I take a breath. But I try not to let it reach my head, because when it does, then it does crazy thngs, like this blog. So why don't I just shut up? Well, to be technically correct, I am shut, it's my fingers that are typing. But then again, it's always that way isn't it, things never really need to be actually said. Or do they?


So here it is.


Naina lageeyan baarishan
Te sukke sukke sapne vi pijj gaye
Naina lageeyan baarishan
Rove palkein de kone vich neendh meri
Naina laggeyan baarishan
Hanju digde ne chot lage dil te
Naina laggeyan baarishan
Rut birha de badlan di chaa gayi


Kaali kaali khaali raaton se
Hone lagi hai dosti
Khoya khoya inn raahon mein
Ab mera kuch bhi nahi
Har pal har lamha
Main kaise sehta hoon
Har pal har lamha
Main khud se yeh kehta rehta hoon
Tujhe bhula diya oh
Tujhe bhula diya oh
Tujhe bhula diya oh
Phir kyun teri yaadon ne
Mujhe rula diya oh
Mujhe rula diya ?


Teri yaadon mein likhe jo lafz dete hai sunayi
Beetay lamhe poochte hai kyun hue aise judaa
Khuda, khuda mila jo yeh faasla hai
Khuda tera hi yeh faisla hai
Khuda hona tha woh ho gaya
Jo tune tha likha

Kaali kaali khaali raaton se
Hone lagi hai dosti
Khoya khoya inn raahon mein
Ab mera kuch bhi nahi
Har pal har lamha
Main kaise sehta hoon
Har pal har lamha
Main khudh se yeh kehta rehta hoon
Tujhe bhula diya oh
Tujhe bhula diya oh
Tujhe bhula diya oh
Phir kyun teri yaadon ne
Mujhe rula diya oh
Mujhe rula diya


Naina lageeyan baarishan
Te sukke sukke sapne vi pijj gaye
Naina lageeyan baarishan
Rut birha de badlan di cha gayi

Do pal tujhse juda tha
Aise phir raasta muda tha
Tujhse mein khone laga
Juda jaise hone laga
Mujhse kuch mera


Tu hi meri liye ab kar dua
Tu hi iss dard se kar de juda
Tera hoke tera jo main na raha
Main yeh khud se kehta hoon

Tujhe bhula diya oh
Tujhe bhula diya oh
Tujhe bhula diya oh
Phir kyun teri yaadon ne
Mujhe rula diya oh
Mujhe rula diya


?

:D

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Lemon

So I'm a twitter user now! Thank you thank you. I can see how it grows on a person, especially if you live your life in one liners. The best part is the word limits leave me the opportunity of not betraying my inner writer, and hence here I am, the ever-loyal blogger.

Sometimes nothing needs to actually occur for something to occur. And that's just the trigger that set me off to visit this remote, lonely town of Blogs. I tip my mental cap to that faint spectre across the street, Mr. Two. By the way, my daily horoscope said my keyword of the day is 'Creativity' and that is definitely something I can take without sugar. So here's a toast to us lone travellers, may creativity never die without a fight.

So what really was the trigger? The rain, the sad sad rain. While watching the rain out the window, while my tea boiled, I thought. Rain does that to you- makes you think- doesn't it? What I thought was about the rain, and yet, that little bit more that tickles around the edge of our brains, as subconscious thoughts do. Today's rain is sad rain. It isn't the happy rain that signifies freshness and renewal, nor is it the angry rain that thunders down wrath on us all. It is that sad rain that just drops. As tears do. With nowhere else to go. With thunder whispering at the distance. Like a heavy yet sad heartbeat. With the wind listing and everything is just wet. Wet, and gray.

With a tall strong black tea with honey and lemon. Rab ne bana di jodi!

Wednesday, September 08, 2010

Tomato

For some reason I love starting thoughts with the word "Sometimes". I love the word! I'm not sure why. Perhaps because it denotes a balance of some time, a possibility, and yet an improbability at the same time. Maybe that's what's gearing up most of our dynamics in this lifetime.

I read a line last night- or was it this morning?- and it stuck to me, because, you know it was one of those stickable types. I don't have it down verbatim, but paraphrased, it said how the word "maybe" became the new word for hope. Truth.

There's something catchy about the word 'maybe' about it being a lead on to hope. To something just there, beyond one's reach. You know, just over that horizon there may be something. Something that you 'maybe' know what it is, or 'maybe' don't. Maybe you look forward to what it 'may be', 'maybe' not.

Life would be boring otherwise. It occurred to me today, how people change according to these maybes. How the possibility of extending a relationship based on a few variables that may not be in the picture changes the dynamic of the relationship once they are actually present. I know noone will really understand what I mean by this, but riddles are fine for now.

What I mean to say is that yes there are those what ifs, and a bit of bitterness underneath, for whatever reasons. Bitterness isn't good. But so is too much hope. And one leads to the other. Around and around.



Hai kya yeh jo tere mere darmiyaan hai
Andekhi ansuni koi dastaan hai
Hai kya yeh jo tere mere darmiyaan hai
Andekhi ansuni koi dastaan hai
Lagne lagi, ab zindagi khaali
Hai meri
Lagne lagi har saans bhi khaali (lost and lonely)
Bin tere, bin tere, bin tere (lost and lonely)
Koi khalish hai hawayon mein bin tere (lost and lonely)
Bin tere, bin tere, bin tere (lost and lonely)
Koi khalish hai hawayon mein bin tere (lost and lonely)

Ajnabi se huye kyun pal saare
Yeh nazar se nazar yeh milaate hi nahin
Ik gani dehaayi cha gayi hai
Manzilein raaston mein hi gum hone lagi
Ho gayi ansuni har dua ab meri
Reh gayi ankahi bin tere (lost and lonely)
Bin tere, bin tere, bin tere (lost and lonely)
Koi khalish hai hawayon mein bin tere (lost and lonely)
Bin tere, bin tere, bin tere (lost and lonely)
Koi khalish hai hawayon mein bin tere (lost and lonely)

Raah mein roshni ni hai kyun haath choda
Iss taraf shaam ne kyun hai apna muh moda
Yun ke har subah ik bereham si baat ban gayi
Hai kya yeh jo tere mere darmiyaan hai
Andekhi ansuni koi dastaan hai
Lagne lagi, ab zindagi khaali khaali
Lagne lagi har saans bhi khaali (lost and lonely)
Bin tere, bin tere, bin tere (lost and lonely)
Koi khalish hai hawayon mein bin tere (lost and lonely)
Bin tere, bin tere, bin tere (lost and lonely)
Koi khalish hai hawayon mein bin tere (lost and lonely)
Bin tere, bin tere, bin tere (lost and lonely)
Koi khalish hai hawayon mein bin tere .. lost and lonely ..
lost and lonely…lost and lonely


:D

This song on repeat.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Crossing

Somehow it doesnt matter that its been 3 years, 5 years, or 6 years ...even though the train moves so slowly, or fast, both sides of the railway go the path together.


Maybe one day they'll meet.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Pale

It's kinda funny, cuz I thought I was in a non blogging phase. But now I'm in that sigh, and reminisce, and think about things sort of mood.

It's funny how life seems to vaporize in this heat. Funny how we all feel this emptiness and boringness.

All of a sudden, I looked out the window, thinking. Just thinking, I don't know what. How some friendships last, almost unendingly. Especially how you never have to say anything. Especially no matter how much time passes. And I hope you realize how special that friendship is to me till today.

So I looked out the window, and had this strong urge to stand outside under heavy heavy heavy rain, in the hot hot hot weather. Just feel it pounding down. Something vitalizing, full of life.


As long as I've got you there, however boring the rest seems, I'll take it for what it's worth.


Maybe I should have icecream.

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Fina

Today:


Takdeer pe humko poora yakeen hai
Mehboob hamara, sab se haseen hai
Teri chahat hai dil ko, teri chahat hai
Teri hazrat hai dil ko, teri mohabbat mein doobe hain

Takdeer pe humko poora yakeen hai
Mehboob hamara, sab se haseen hai
Teri chahat hai dil ko, teri chahat hai
Teri hazrat hai dil ko, teri mohabbat mein doobe hain

Milenge milgene haan milenge milenge, milenge milenge
Aap se yakeenan milenge milenge
Ho sohneye mannmoneye
Milenge milgene haan milenge milenge

Aap ki kashish ka kya kehna
Jahan bhi rahe dil ne kehna
Aap ki kashish ka kya kehna, jahan bhi rahe dil ne kehna
Aap se yakeenan milenge milenge haan milenge milenge

O mere jaan-e-jigar, tumko nahin yeh khabar
Bas tujhko hi dhoonde har pal yeh meri nazar
Saamne kabhi to aaoge
Kab talak mujhe tadpaayoge
Saamne kabhi to aaoge, kab talak mujhe tadpaayoge

Aisa deewanapan hai, deewanapan hai
Saansein hai behki behki, paagal paagal har dhadkan hai

Milenge milgene haan milenge milenge
Main gumshuda ho gayi
Kya se main kya ho gayi re
Bhool ke main saari duniya ko tujh mein kho gayi
Tumse milne ko bekraar main
Aa gayi hoon rath pe saawar main
Tumse milne ko bekraar main, aa gayi hoon rath pe saawar main


Kitne hum tanha tanha, kitne hum tanha
Tujhko soche har lamha, tujhko hi maange uss rab se
Milenge milgene, milenge milenge
Aap se yakeenan milenge milenge
Ho sohneye mannmoneye
Milenge milenge



:D

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Fina - Happy

I woke up happy.
Because I woke up.

Not just that usual 'i woke up to a new day, another day to live and be grateful for blah blah way'. Of course, that. But just that I WOKE UP.

Because, it mean I ACTUALLY SLEPT.
Holy bhatura. I slept I slept. In the two weeks of neendless nights, I SUHLEPTUH.

Oddly, or maybe not, I've been listening to Mainu Raat Neend Na Aveh, Neendaran, and Neend, for the most part.

Correlative?

Zzzz.

Monday, June 21, 2010

Fina - Surreal

The most beautiful, almost surreal scenery today: sun to the back, horizon forward, amazing reflection. Water was almost magnetic, electric shimmery metallic laser blue, seeming transparent but solid, blue mercury. But the sky, faint pink purple and blue, with amazing bluer clouds, and the moon shining above it all.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Fina - Sister

"I wish we were 12 again, just eating popsicles while sitting on the swings while thandi thandi hawaa blows on our muh :shiftyy:. There's nothing :shiftyy: about what I just said but the :shiftyy: muh also applies for when hawaa is blowing in your muh so zohr se ke you can't see:-B. Hazhaz."\


For whatever reason, today I just felt like writing to you. It is of course that bit that says I miss you, that you're on my mind, but then again, when aren't you? Granted, we've grown out (grown "up" seems kinda off); grown OUT that somethingsomethings that we both know we've grown out, but I doubt we could ever outgrow each other, or even, especially our memories of the other, and yes especially the imprint of our souls upon each others'.

"It reminds me of how I told you I would see ure muh as I would shut the door of my microwave oven or on the LuckyCharms ka cereal dabba. Hehe, so many goot (yet disturbing) memories."

And that would be true for any relationship, but somehow extra especially for you, for us, for ours. Perhaps we'd rather negate the impact because it kinda says that the past that ties us together somehow matters, when we'd rather say it doesn't - but we still learn from it, and from what it let us share. And maybe that's why I am here writing to you. Though it's been awhile, there are those moments when I have this instictive urge to pick up the phone and share 'it'; something anything. Then there are those constant things that continuously remind me of you - all those inside jokes and those certain situations that only you could understand and appreciate, for what its worth appreciating.

"I not want to sound dramatic plz."

And the funny thing is, although I miss you, I..don't. And I don't have to write all thise because I know you understand it. That's just it though. Having it said makes it said. I miss our punjaban adventures, but its just that, I know they couldnt be the same, not now. I miss that family, and all that, you know. I wonder what happened to their trock. I dont' know why I have the need to write to you, but meh. I guess it was the mota toy penguin I compulsively wished to stuff in the mailbox, except that it was fatter than the mailbox. Reminds me of those penguin outfits we googled at the same time (ok I am having an akele hazhaz moment here, time to say bye.)

ps. Dont forget the Jinny Joes.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Fina - Define

Definition #124872

Fall In Love (v): To succumb, to be weakened (to and) by the force opposed; as in a battle, to be fallen, as a warrior is thrown from his horse; to be fallen, therefore vulnerable and completely at the hands of the captive.

Virgo June 17 Scope: "The last few weeks may not have been easy but adverse events have toughened you up and made you believe that you can handle anything."

cha cha cha.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Fina - Start

"At times we go to places alone
The distance between us just seems to grow
Our souls will always be together
And someday I know we will meet for sure"



Bloody well, I've so much to write about NOW and I've got a notebook filled with THEN but oh my god I have no idea what I want to say, I'm SO excited and so MEH about so many things that MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMeOW. Okay I feel better. Ok not really.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Raw - Electric

Complete opposites.

Macrocosm: the day. Two ends of the spectrum. Start horribly, end amazingly.

Microcosm: the end itself: us.

How can two opposites be so …electric?

The oddest things.

Here we are.
Electricity reinvented.

Wednesday, June 09, 2010

Raw - Things

Things
Happen.

I definitely, definitely learnt this today.

Things will happen, because that’s just what things do, and when happenings occur it is because of, well, things. So sure, they are bound to happen, when the time comes, when the time is right, some time, eventually, possibly, probably, finally.

Things happen.

But things can Happen when you make them happen.

Then things become Things.

And that’s when things really happen.

Tuesday, June 08, 2010

Raw - Shock

I can’t believe this.

I am actually listening to pehli nazar mein.

SHOCK!

Granted, I like the song, else it wouldn’t be on my playlist. But since being put on that playlist I don’t think ive listened to it, fully, once.

Now I enjoy – actually enjoy – such songs. Damn.

Me!

Saturday, June 05, 2010

Raw - Blue

Blue!!!!!!!!!

!!!!


!

Wednesday, June 02, 2010

Raw - Rain

Kuch to hua hai
My dil goes mmm
This must be love keh do zara
Aoo milo chalo
Kuch ho gaya hai
Kya se kya hone laga hai
Kya mujhe pyaar haiii
Thoda theher sun le zara
Gotta be love keh do zara
Halki halki mulaqatein thi
Sab kuch alag hai
Haan re haan hone laga re
Kaisa khumaar haiii
Door door se baatein thi
My dil goes mmmmmm
Gotta be lovee keh do zara
Dheere dheere kya ho gaya hai main kya karoon
Jaane kahan no ho pataaa
This must be love keh do zaraaa
Kuch na kahoooo
My dil goes MMMmmmmm


!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ps: Baarish!!!!!!!!!!!!
Pps: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tuesday, June 01, 2010

Raw - June

There’s always something refreshing about firsts. And to top it, it’s June. The month kicking off, officially, summer.

Sadly, goodbye to May. May and I have a special bond, a je ne sais quoi that is often found here and there, like in relationships.

May is the delicate femininity that is equally mother and equally new bride. It is the softest sigh of enchantment, the gentle breeze that is half yearning, half fulfillment. To ask of it to be anything else would be to removie it from everything that it is already.

Today was the other half of yesterday. To miss a person, then realize that it could possibly be communicated with that perfect understanding that is both the source and solution. Without even a word needed, all the different messages needed to be said were said, and that was the cement that sealed this friendship.

Monday, May 31, 2010

Raw - Lightning

LIGHTNING!!

Sitting outside on my usual spot under the trees at 10 at night, just feeling the wind blowing through my newly two-toned hair, listening to Ahun Ahun and tappnig along, when suddenly the sky flashed.

I looked around at the people standing at the bus stop, a few yards away to see if they noticed. Nah, they didn't seem to be particularly affected. So I went back to AhunAhun and went back to my windfeelingthoughtthinking, debating about which song of Love Aaj Kal was my favourite, Dooriyan or Ahun, then there was of course Main Kya Hoon, and one certainly could not write off Thoda Thoda, but then why weren’t decisions as easy as knowing Ishq Hi Hai Rab was your favourite- when suddenly up above me, a little to my left, the sky disappeared. No, of course it came back. When I say disappeared, I mean it just went completely white, blank.

I paused, and shifted my eyes left and right as to ascertain that I was not just losing it. But no, it flashed again and the sky went electric blue around the edges of the clouds.

I press pause. Listen.

The sky flashed and suddenly, all sound stopped. No zoom of traffic, no people noise, everything faded away…nothing.

And no AhunAhun. Especially no AhunAhun. All of a sudden, all Ahun business and associates became the last thing on my mind. Lightning! Wind! Silence!

The possibilities were endless.

After a long day, a long HOT day, this was…

It was that resurfacing of something. Rain, no, the potential for rain. The possibility that at any second, that silence swallowing up the world could break loose as the sky fell apart and the clouds fell down in a sudden crash. It was positively delicious. It was full of something, that waiting, that held breath, that little hope and expectation, that little more of something, that little more that was joy, and every bit as much, sorrow.

It was beautiful, and such beautiful weather deserved a beautiful song.

Like playing slots at the casino, I hit the next button on my mp4 set on random shuffle.

The choices were many, hundreds. I was playing with slim chances, but the weather was on my side, either I lost out compleely, or the song would definitely play if IT was meant to be the right song.

When the music started, I smiled. I knew it.

Four minutes, thirty nine seconds.

Jackpot.



10:35 pm.

Still no rain.

Out again under the skies, for that Gal Sun length walk, I was thinking over the day. It was a good one. Funny how it sort of ended with missing the person you see everyday. I thought of today as we tramped through the forests, reaching the top of the hills, walking branches over the river, doing the whole outdoors thing. Friends.


And then, here comes the rain. And on a nice ending to the night:

aankhon mein anjaane rehte manzar ke
seene mein chubti hain koi bebasi nai
yaadon mein basi kuchh baaten ankahee
unn baaton mein kahin khoyi hain zindagi…


Goodnight.

Friday, May 28, 2010

Collage-N End.

What is distance to a bird?

To be able to reach the highest height in a matter of seconds. To soar over a city in a manner of minutes, to swoop over miles in a blink of an eye, to glide to its destination in the fraction of a heartbeat.

What is distance to a bird?

A multitude of thoughts spring from one : The morning song of a bird.

Mornings are best revered as this, the quiet communion of birds to daybreak. Maybe this is why I am a morning person.

As I was walking along, soaking in the radiance, I located the call to the caller, the song to the singer: perched atop a lamppost was my darling dove.

As it let out another throaty call, it was answered; A few paces onward and there atop the neighbouring lamppost was its partner in duet.

Cute, sweet, and all that, in many aspects.

The companionship, the easy togetherness they shared without the rest of the world’s knowledge, the ‘specialness’ they shared without really saying a world, the closeness even when apart.

So what is a distance to a bird?

Is being apart just a birdsong away from being together?                    

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Collage-N Part 16

I haven’t slept. All night. Ok, so make that Thursday, May 27. 5 am.

No matter how I tried, sleep just would not come, and for no really real reason- sure it was too hot for comfort, the neighbours didn’t consider 3 am to be too late for making noise on the streets or too early for bedtime, and well, then there’s the light. Full moon night, and the ghosts have no rest. So what does that make me? Hours of sleeplessness slowly and surely persuade me that, if not me, than surely the night is haunted. And the ghosts? Ghosts are memories.

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Collage-N Part 15

Two-toned!

Physically, and emotionally.

Just a bit under a week of heat and my knees down are distinctly darker than the rest of my legs. Same goes for elbows to fingertips.

Emotionally, well that’s a bit harder to explain.

It involves the content vs. the malcontent. Nothing really new there, is there? Now. So why now?

One week (onewholeweekhasjustflownby!) since last week. I don’t know where I get it in my head that maybe, just maybe, same day of the week, same time, same place equals same situation. How about NO. BIG FAT NO.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Collage-N Part 14

27 degrees.

Badabingbadaboom.

Cannot go wrong with another beautiful day.

I don’t know why I love traveling on public transit. Ok I know why, but it’s just one of those things that you feel at a loss of being able to really explain, just because you feel it to such an extent of sublime content.

I like it, because it’s freedom. Like a microcosm of traveling the world alone. You go place to place, someone else is doing the work, you sit and enjoy the ride. The world goes by, and you don’t need to rush or drive faster, because no matter what, you can only sit and wait for however fast or slow the ride can go. So, you enjoy.

And if one wants to get deeper: that’s life.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Collage-N Part 13

Another long day. I wake up, what, at 6, and its bright outside. Gotta love it. 8 and outide, it’s burning down on my head. Woohoo!

I just love this weather. Aaahh, not yet too hot, but comfortably no-jacket weather.

And PUHLEASE, when you tell me the weather is ‘nice’, I want you to walk 5 miles in it first before telling me it is, ‘cuz if you’re a door to car door sissy you ain’t getting any credibility from me sweethaht.

Yes, hyper.

Music is mixing on first halves of every random shuffle song that comes:

- bin tum gum sum hone lage jaane.. kis duniya khone lage
- Mohabbat se zyaada mohabbat hai tumse yeh dil ke raha hai kasam se kasam se
- kyun koi paas hai, duur hai, kyun koi jaane na koi yahan pe yeh dooriyaaaan
- kaddi te has bolllll ve, na jind saddi rol ve.. tu aaja dil janiya de kar meherbaniyan aa sanu teri lod ve na jind saddi ron ve
- teri umeeeeeed teri baaatein, woh lamha lamhaa katati tere naam se raatein
- ghadi pal yara

and finally getting off the bus, the shuffle lands on
da
da
dada


Ek lakh nakhre re re re re re…
Lakh lakh nakhre rehne de, chale naa tere koi paintare….


Tell me I can’t get hyper. How can I not.

Anyways, the mood went as soon as I got in out of the sun, and faced the long tiring day ahead. Meh.

Getting mad (me, mad? Who says?) And finally getting told that

I have attitude.

Please.

Not hearing, raised eyebrow and asking politely (POLITELY) and excuse me?
how can anyone tell me I have attitude to my face like that.
But no, in fact I get told again that
I have too much attitude.

Ha, ha, ha.

Yeah. Now that clears it up.

I have attitude and raising one’s eyebrows and thanking them for the newsflash gets me a free drink and icecream. It all works out.

Anyways.

It was actually a nice day in terms of the friend aspect. Somehow I can always count on someone to cheer me up, or at least understand me in some part, even if on some days that has to be me. But if it aint me, then my personality twin aint so bad either. I don’t know what exactly to call him, because sure, he is a best friend. I’d say he’s one of my best friends. But he isn’t MY BEST FRIEND. I mean, he is, but he isn’t. he’s like sometimes my male other half, but not that. Whatever. Some people just make your day. Doesn’t matter if you don’t have a label, the medicine works.


How can we dream the same dream and yet go farther
How can we dream in the same direction and walk in opposite ways
How can we be so completely together and in being together move father apart.

I just don’t get it.
I don’t get what ‘it’ is
I don’t get how I can’t get it when I don’t know what it is that I don’t get.

Is it possible for a butterfly to chase a tail it does not have?

Sometimes its oddly interesting the things you can learn – when you weren’t expecting it. But then again, that’s just it- we try our best to not expect in order to survive just that little more easily. So how could we go about with saying ‘ I didn’t expect that’ when so saying you imply otherwise, that by not expecting you were expecting not to.

And so, what I’ve learnt – unexpectedly while having that best friend time- doing what we do best ie. Speculating about dream things: houses, cars.. to begin with. And me always being the way I am me, going on to the usual ‘what if’s : dream vacations spots. Point in fact that I was surprised at his choices made me realize that 1) we do in fact have differences and 2) that I wasn’t really all that surprised since I know him as well as he knows himself.

But mostly I realized that although I can be so damned complicated with all the thinkings and such that seem to pour out of every pore (ha), that my choices showed that deeply imbedded simplicity that is really me.

Whereas he likes the cities, the crowds, the rich lifestyle types, there I am wanting solitude on the white beaches, clear waters, blue skies of the Mediterranean and the forests and glades of the Alps. Granted, that by itself isn’t surprising. It’s more really with respect to the contrast. Which brings to mind Aristotle: man can only live a good life in society.

I’d already written an essay on that one line years ago and like many of my musings, has permanently imbedded itself in my mental clockwork.

For, how can we really measure ourselves in terms of how good or how bad we are by remaining in isolation. There isn’t anything nor anyone to compare with so how can one know? And all that we do know of goodness, that itself comes from the workings of society. So when so much of society continually changes its aspect, does goodness change? Do the abstract essences that guide us invisibly also change? Morality, humanity…does love change?

And when we cannot accurately, acutely, define it for what it is, but collectively acknowledge a somewhat vague existence, how can we tell?

Being so openminded and tolerant and understanding is sometimes hardwork.

I’ve got so many sides that it’s confusing trying to understand them.

And this is ME. Imagine someone else trying to.

Actually, no. It isn’t as bad as it sounds. I love being me. I love the fact that me by myself is someone I can enjoy being with for protracted amounts of time. I don’t bore myself, which is something not everyone can say.

So, whatever mysteries of myself I have yet to understand or yet to reveal, there’s always tomorrow.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Collage-N Part 12

How do I become so close to someone I’ve only just met? I wonder why this often happens to me. On 5 difference circumstances in the past few weeks I’ve had the occasion of working with a different person each time and there was that automatic comfort zone with each and every one of them. Only 1 girl-woman I had to deal with for a few hours I just could not get that comfortable with. And that’s probably because she was a crackhead. (No, literally.)

Monday, May 17, 2010

Collage-N Part 11 :)


Water.
Wind.
Clouds and waves.
What can really compare to Your creation?

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Collage-N Part 10

Ashiyaan

I can’t blame you for leaving. Leaving the way you did. Leaving just like that. Or like in the Teri Yaad Bahut mix;

“she (he) left you
Left you
Without a note
Telling you
She (he) left you…”

So you left. You were gone. You are gone.

When we are faced with circumstances we cant comprehend, which leave us without answers, which in fact hurt us deep down, somewhere where it is so deep that when it hurts you can’t feel it, because it’s left you numb with the pain of it. When we just cannot fathom how such things happen, we want to instinctively turn this way and that trying to finger blame wherever we think is apt. but after the storm dies down, what are you left with but the puddles?

Because I were to look back father, I never thought that I would have met a person like you. And now that you are gone, I can sit here listening to my Winnie The Pooh mp3 that I hadn’t touched in months and relive the feelings the songs bring back.


naseebon mein jaane likha aur kya,
hain kismat mein apni chupa aur kya
yeh fikre khudaai tu chod ke
apni tamannao ko rang de
iske siva jeena hai aur kya
jam gaya so gaya woh kal bhul ke
aaj ki maauj mein chala jhool ke
ho jashn kaisa jhoome jahaan
aaye na aaye kal kya pata
aashiyaan ban gaya mera dil aaj se…

Hope.
Purity.
Goodness.
Innocence.
Trutth.
Honesty.
Laughter.
Friendship.

You gave me so much. So much that was already myself. You taught me so much. All that was there but indistinctive from the rest that was already me. You showed me that the person I wanted to be, the person I was constantly in search of, that person was no other than ‘I’. You were like a mirror held up, reflecting what I could be, by simply being me.

Through you, I dared, because I knew you were there. I dared because daring was not so much a risk than it was to be me. For whatever reasons you came into my life, you were the light that dazzled the eyes and when you suddenly left, it was like plunging into darkness, until I realized that you were always simply the mirror showing me what I hadn’t seen before.

aaj ko baandh lu main in zulfon se
thaam lu main yeh pal meri palkon se
ho jashn aaisa jhoome jahaan
aaye na aaye kal kya pata
aashiyaan ban gaya mera dil aaj se..

Monday, May 10, 2010

Collage-N Part 9

Sometimes, I grab for my notebook as soon as I can and try to get down in words the thoughts that had been floating out of my skull as fast as I can. The trouble with this is that its really difficult to remember every single thought and, as is the case now, where it came from.

Just now, I sat with a pen poised, ready to write, and in so doing, let myself relive the 5 minutes previously, what I was doing, how I felt, and what and why I thought what I thought. I can’t remember how exactly I started thinking. I recall locking the front door, putting the keys in my jacket pocket, realize it was actually warm again, and therefore did not need the winter jacket. I remember the afghan neighbours across the road stopping to watch me walk past, pulling out my hair from under my hood, walking to the corner where two highschool girls were laughing insanely, and then pulling out my sunglasses and closing my eyes facing the sun.

Was it here where I zoned into Lalaland, I don’t know. It all feels like one of those dreams that happen and you awake only to recalls bits and pieces, but in bad print.

But what I do recall vividly is that feeling of the sunshine on my face. On this subject, I will always sound repetitive, unapologetically so. And, the thought that occurred to me was the freedom of being able to enjoy it.

- which now brings me back to what started this train of thoughts. Being on the late side, I was in a bit of a rush and thought how nicely convenient it would be to just step out of my house and have a bus stop perhaps across the road, rather than having to walk to roundabout walk I had to do twice every day between home to bus. That was what I was thinking at the moment I was pulling out my sunglasses. The moment I felt the sun on my face however, chanced my mind. That 4.39 minute walk (scientifically concluded based on the findings that the walk was the exact same length as Gal Sun), was the means behind pretty much all of the blogeristic musings thus far written. As to what comes next; what I’d thought, or rather, felt, was that this 4.39 minute walk was a luxury in a busy day. It was my chance to simply ‘be’ – to feel, and appreciate: the sunshine, the sky, the wind, the rain, the moon, the stars. And I thought, or rather felt, pity for those who live continuously from door to car door and back. I considered once more, how non-committing taking the bus wherever I wanted to go was without having to worry about a steering wheel, the stop signs, stoplights, or the road ahead. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.

This takes me to another query of mine: whether a person prefers being a driver or a passenger, and its correlation to personality type.


WE INTERRUPT THIS PROGRAM FOR BREAKING NEWS.

The (former) Library Security Guard has entered the bus. I repeat-

WE NOW PAUSE WAITING FOR MY HEART TO START BEATING AGAIN
Whowhatwherewhenwhyhowwhowhatthehell. Yo. I don’t KNOW him.
I mean, he doesn’t know ME. I mean, HEH I haven’t seen him in MONTHS. Ok scarap that, I saw him for 2 seconds while I was in the process of writing a pm to someone else. I remember now. And now, and now, here I am writing about.. something, and here is this this..PERSON.

Stop!

What is this.

He’s
a
crush.

Not even that.

Mental slap to self. Left hook. Right left right. Brrr.

What is it with tall guys?!?!?! I don’t understand this…

No he WAS a crush. No, just eye-candy. Not even that. Ahaan! Anyways he was nobody. I was nobody. We were nobodies in a nobody sort of nobody way… who just happened to see each other everyday (EVERYDAY) for a few months. Thassall.

Anyways. Who cares.

At least I know he takes the bus. (he takes the BUS??!!)

And where he gets on. And where he gets off. *stalker alert*

This is just odd. How we keep running into each other. Even now.

Hmmm.

Bolna painda ae puttar, bolna painda ae. (LOL)

Saturday, May 08, 2010

Friday, May 07, 2010

Collage-N Part 7

Last night on the train, I looked at my fellow train-takers and, a thought, a question, occurred to me. There was the couple in the corner to my right, looking tired amid their piercings and tattoos, holding hands in silence. To the left of them, a youngish oldish black girl holding onto an envelope and slowly opening it and reading it, all the while looking confused, sad, hopeful. Then a trio of giggly young Chinese girls, dabbing on their lipgloss and gossiping and teasing each other. Just a quick snapshot of a few of those around me.

And the thought that occurred to me (not for the first time, admittedly) was that each of these people had a hope of love in their hearts. In the midst of all their separate lives, all these different people brought here in one place for whatever reasons, they believe, have believed, or will believe, that there is one person out there in their world for them. How? Why?

Wednesday, May 05, 2010

Collage-N Part 6

Dreams, dreams and still more dreams. Where do they come from, why do they occur, and who is it that continuously makes this appearance. I know, somewhat, the answer to the first two. It’s all in the mind, right? Ok, but then, why do I also get dreams that actually happen in reality days later? So if it’s all in the mind, then what’s reality? Sure I believe in the power of thought, but.. I wouldn’t go as far as saying my thought power actually precipitates events that affect others. In any case, this was The Other Type Of Dream. The recurring Mystery Man dream. Though occurred to one, why do I often seem to meet him at the bus stop? I don’t think the chances of my Prince Charming being someone I really meet there are that favourable. So, beyond the tangible, why the bus stop?

When I woke up this morning, the thought that gradually came to me, when I asked myself this question, was that Sai often dreams of meeting her Mystery Man at the airport.

Now there are two locations that do begin to connect. But, still, why? They are two places of travel, got that down, check. I take the best more often. She’s taken the place more often. Check. We have yet to meet our MMs, so, these are pretty apt ways of ‘meeting’ ‘new’ people. Ok, so? So, let’s now go into content.

In my dreams, I’m standing there waiting. So maybe, it’s the waiting that translates into the dream. Waiting, apparently for the bus. Descramble: waiting for the right bus to take me to the right destination.

In the same way, he’s there doing the same, and in waiting together, somehow without acknowledging it, or each other, we realize that where it is we’re going we want to go there together. Without even saying anything, there is the unspoken feeling that we want to be together. And that’s the thing, we don’t talk. We don’t even look at each other. We don’t even know that we do know each other.

Just thinking of it, remembering it, makes me smile inside, because, it’s a special feeling. Even it being just a random dream and all that. Of being so entirely aware of this person, and pretending you are not. And knowing they are doing and feeling the same.

This morning, as I stepped outside, the first thing that grabbed my attention was the half moon shining there up in the blue sky. I don’t know why such things make me so happy. There up on my right the almost translucent glow of the moon, and on my left, the radiant warmth of the sun.

Do they realize they are there? Or do they simply accept that their paths in this lifetime, whatever that lifetime be measured by, was meant to bring them together this way for this moment in time. And who could say how long they’ve waited – perhaps again and again- how long have they waited for a single moment. Perhaps they have waited beyond the endurance of anyone who could possibly witness. Perhaps beyond what they could possibly ever remember; that they have gone this cycle so numerously that they have no sense of when they began and when they shall end. Perhaps they’ve accepted the existence of the other out there in the universe, and they haven’t questioned what it is they share. To give light, to accept light. Perhaps it has become such an existence that to stop would be to stop existing. To love, to be love.

Who could say?

Monday, May 03, 2010

Collage-N Part 5

The Moth.

There has been a moth in my room every night I got home from work for a week or so. Despite removing it from the premises - through the back door, through the front door, through the window - the following night, it is back in my room.

Another weird situation of mine, I guess. Begs a load of questions to be asked. But I've gotten in the habit of simply accepting the questionable. So, the Moth does its interesting dance each night while I watch on, bemused, before showing it out the door. Thank you, goodnight.

I've since realized that the Moth in its own bizarre dance symbolizes the aspects of certain people. The thought struck me while thinking about a conversation with a certain friend. The way she couldn't stay in a place, always apparently restless. Maybe not to herself, but given a rundown on her habits, you'd notice. Sleeping cycle pretty much nonexistent, eating habits from starvation to junk binges, the overall attention deficit symptom that have her planning to do something then deciding she does not feel like it. The Moth. Flying crookedly here, flitting crookedly there, never really resting on one spot long enough before moving on to another destination.

Then, once this thought came to me, almost right on the heels came the realization that the Moth could just as well fit the personality of another friend of mine. Not just the erratic movement this time, but the lack of letting itself remain too close to anything for too long. It descends, and sits, then realizes it can't stay in the arrangement for too long, else it may get hurt, possibly. Maybe it just isn't ready to settle down yet. In any case, it can't commit to one place for too long; it just isn't comfortable with putting too much trust in something that may just turn out to be temporary. Nothing is forever. The Moth.

Then, there's the one person I know, or think I know, the best of anyone else. The one who seeks out new things here and there, yet searching for that extra...that special something. The Moth.

That revels in its wings and the embodiment of what they signify. The ability to fly, to become as one with the wind, to live unfettered by the things that would keep it grounded. Mostly, constantly craving freedom: getting fooled by the light that can be controlled by others – only to realize that the true light was where it came from. But on the way out suddenly a window comes in the way – and the thing the moth wants is so close yet still too far. That is the moth that is called Me.

Sunday, May 02, 2010

Collage-N Part 4

RAIN!!

For some reason, the world is still pretty much asleep at 9 on a Sunday morning, and its one of the best times to be out. According to me.

Mornings, early early mornings, when the morning is still empty, when you can walk outside and just listen to the silence.

Today's great moment was experienced going to work early this morning. Humid weather, balmy breeze, and just as my mp3 started up on Ehsaan's awesome intro (it's half the reason why I love the song. That, and the lyrics), into the first few lines and then right at the RIGHT moment, the world suddenly just opened up and the skies started falling- hard. It. Was. Beautiful.

For some reason (as usual), it coincided with my mood, which was a bit melancholy. Maybe it was because of the humidity. Maybe it was the tiredness, and not wanting to work (rare). I know a bit of it was not getting to talk to that special someone as my Sundays usually determined. I know part of it was due to thoughts related to the movie of the night before. Granted, a hindi movie about an alien from Venus wouldn't seem all that touching. But seriously, Jaane kahan se aayi hai has some great moments. I guess it doesn't matter which circumstances you find it, the things that you can relate to somehow make their way under your skin...

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Collage-N Part 3

..teri surat na ho jisme, vo sheesha tod denge hum, agar tum mil jao zamaana chodd denge hum;

One day, we'll meet, and when we meet I most definitely would have fallen in love if I weren't already madly in love with you.
I don't know how I am so sure but this is what loving you is.
It's to love you, completely and utterly, to know that when I realize that it is you I love, that you were just the right key to unlock all the mysteries encompassed in loving you.

suno ik thi kaanch ki gudiya, suno ik thi pyaar ki pudiya, sadke, uss pyaar ke..jogi mahi, heer raanjhana, sab nu ja ke main yeh bolna,
baat bol ke, raaz kholna;


How does anyone even begin to explain, how can one love with abandon, just let go and love? Not fear getting hurt? It is one of the hardest things one can experience, to love and lose. To believe so purely and end up broken in pieces?

tu hi meri shab hai subha hai tu hi din hai mera, tu hi mera rab hai jahaan hai tu hi meri duniya, tu waqt mere liye main hoon tera lamha
kaise rahega bhala hoke tu mujhse judaa;


Like hanging on to the top of a building, knowing that letting go could mean the end of life itself. But to believe with all your faith in that love, you let go and let yourself fall. Maybe that's what 'falling in love' means. To be in love, and forever fall, and fall and fall, all still inside that new world called 'love'. You can't let go if you don't believe. What do you do when you hit the concrete, hard?


bahon mein de bas jaane, seene mein de chup jaane, tujh bin main jaaounga kahan? tujhse hai mujhko paane yaadon ke won nazrane, ek jinpe haq ho bas mera...dil ibadat kar raha hai dhadkane mere sun;

Then how do you let yourself fall, but hold on to a lifeline of some sort? What distinction in completely letting go and holding on could possibly save you? Perhaps it is the very fact that it is you yourself who in essence makes the choice. The person you love has no obligation to wait for you at the bottom, or to hold you from letting go, or to save you. To truly love, you simply cannot do that to the person you love. They cannot save you while at the same time sacrificing their own soul for yours. It is their choice, as much as love could be said to be one.

That's why I know I can love, let myself fly, because it is only me who can make or break myself, to an extent. Maybe that's why I say I don't know you, when my unconscious keeps telling me I do.

Har ghadi lag rahi teri kami, le chali kis gali yeh zindagi, hai pata lapata hoon pyaar mein, ankahi ansuni chahat jagi, Jo hua, pehle hua nahin, aaj tum karlo zara yakeen pyaar ka,...

I save myself by lying to myself, or outwardly I try to. In a special place kept safe I put aside all traces of what could hurt me. A doublelocked time delayed safe in my heart which will tell me who you are. And the key: Maybe I have a copy of it somewhere. But I accept that perhaps I can love so completely and will have to keep the safe locked. AT least the safe stays locked and the house it is kept in does not burn down.

The original key, I've thrown into the ocean of 'fate'. You'll find it one day. Maybe, who knows, You have it.

... Aa jao meri tamana bahoon mein aao, ke ho na payee judaa hum aaise mujhmein samaoo .

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Collage-N Part 2

Tuesday April 27. 11 pm.
It's so incredible how so many things can change in the space of one week. Granted, a world could change in the blink of an eye, but there are those things that come so naturally in our surroundings that you hardly notice that it changes so quickly.

Just yesterday, coming outside at 7 in the evening I was awestruck to see the full face of the moon shining out boldly in the still blue and white sky. I backtracked mentally, thinking - hey, I was looking at the half moon just a few days ago!! wasn't that just last night?..wow.

Then there are the more or less, well more than less, stunning things like the brilliant sunny days and the deathly cold nights. This weather does not want me healthy. And almost sadly, the almost fully grown leaves. How could those baby buds and blooms I had been daydreaming about just days ago be grown so fast?! NONONONONO!

The baby green buds, the yellow sprigs, the white and pink blossoms are all the more why I love spring so much. It really is so sad that the time of year I love the most lasts so briefly. And then to think, if there were no winter there wouldn't be the same spring. I have to love it all. And I do.

Speaking of the full moon, tonight was as beautiful as one could be. If you had been standing with me while I said this, you might have raised an eyebrow and wonder if the 'lune' was affecting me. It was a full bright beautiful moon- and the sky was just FILLED .. with clouds. Meh, says you. But stop, I say, and take a closer look. There, as the clouds dance in the wind, look at the silvery magic on the edges of the clouds. And look, even though the clouds are there, you can still see the stars shining through.

And although the wind is dangerously cold, it has its own charm. It makes you feel like everything is blowing, and in the voice of the wind, there is something that hauntingly makes you want to dance. While it pulls you one way, and takes your hair another way, you feel like letting you spirit join in with the wind, and going where it goes. The best thing is suddenly having the right song, the perfect song to go along with the mood.

Friday, April 23, 2010

Collage-N Part 1

The almost end to another...something week. What something? I paused there for a good 30 seconds, trying to find the right word - automatically, I was about to write 'amazing', but it wasn't just that, it was, but amazing just doesn't cut it. Whatever it has been, it's worth capturing in words. But what truly need to be captured aren’t the events, which are just the landmarks, but the emotions which are the real journey.

I wonder if it's just me, but why do the oddest things always seem to happen to me; the inexplicable sort?

Those who know me ('well', should I append?), also note this, somewhat independent of my own experience. Some think I've got spirits with me, some think I've somehow got intuitive powers beyond normal, I don't know. This reminds me of how far back it goes - back to the start of high school and all those little coincidences that summed up my 'luck'. Noticing the Indian girl across the room on the first day of French class, because she had a mole on the left side of her face, and thinking, or rather, feeling 'click': recognition. Not that I even knew who she was at all - it was the first time in my life I laid eyes on her. But I knew that if I didn't know her then, I would definitely know her well soon. I don't know how I knew, but I did. Later when we ended up sitting in the same place at lunch, we realized that we had the exact same shoes - same colour, same cheap desi deal brand: "Bonjour" brand (and that too, we first met in French class!).

A few days later into our friendship, we also came to learn we both had profound affection for LM Montgomery's books - namely Anne of Green Gables, and we both loved them as strongly for the term that beckoned to us - 'kindred sprits'. No other terms could be so aptly applied to what we shared - because of course we were friends, we were best friends, and would remain so for 6 years, but more - and that much more did not need to be put into words. That was one of those few relations where I started learning that sometimes you have the feeling without knowing what it is, until you meet the person who can provide you with the right word. And sometimes it's you with the word, without understanding what it is until you meet the person who can teach you both.

And maybe, sometimes they teach you without understanding what it is themselves, without knowing that they in fact showed you everything it could possibly mean.

As I went through life from the moment on, I met people, and I made friends. And did I make friends. As one of the best I've had till now once pointed out, for some reason everyone liked me, or likes me. I try to say this as humbly I can, as without vanity or ego I can, by looking at myself from an outsider perspective, and- I like myself. I like myself because I try to be the 'goodest' I can be. Granted, I am not an angel, no, rather, I am not a saint, I am not Mother Teresa, Mahatma Gandhi, nor am I without my weaknesses and well, imperfections. But I do try my best. And so ... I make friends. Sometimes I find myself surprised by people's easy reaction towards me. It could be the rudest customer on their worst day, it could be guys trying to hit on me, it could be complete strangers and still somehow they walk away smiling or saying 'she's a nice girl!'. And I get this surprised feeling that hey, why does this always happen to me? Even if I go on walks with my sister, walking down the park paths, or along a beach walk, my sister watches as every person who walks towards us smiles at me, and she always comments on it in that 'what the heck' fashion of hers, and I just shrug and laugh it off, cause what else can I do?

It's a pleasant feeling, I am not complaining, but it has me thinking - why do people like me? Maybe God has his hand above my head. Maybe?

I know that it has something to do with my personality and outlook in life (well, duh). I know, if perhaps I lapsed into being sarcastic all the time, or tried being smartassed all the time, or more blunt then surely these phenomenon would vanish... as I just read - "You might find life more tolerable if you learned to speak to people in a civilized manner."

Mostly, we get what we give. Not always, but fore the most part. I have found that the more open-minded you let yourself be, without letting yourself lose any part of your own principle, the easier life goes. "Civility costs nothing and buys everything". The things we might let affect us are usually not worth half the effort. The people who hurt us are those we let be important to us. Or, those who are important to us are those who can hurt us. Those who aren't important aren't worth letting affect us. And those who are important should know better.
It's vaguer in reality because that's just how reality rolls.

The thing is, you learn from the past- or hopefully, you do. You should. Otherwise, what a damn shame. How could anyone throw all that away? As (one of) my favourites goes "Live for this moment, this moment is your life." Imagine forgetting that past - life itself lives on in those memories and there you go, throw away your life? Everything you are today is all the you's you have been; all those you's you were from every yesterday. And like music, every memory of the note that just faded into the past lingers to attach itself to every new note, to produce the beauty of the entire song. How could on appreciate it if all you could remember was only the one note you hear now? One note, over and over - monotone, because there is no memory. So how could one appreciate the beauty of your own song, your song that is your life, if you could not recall the music you left behind?

So where is this all leading to you might wonder? Life, music, friends, superpowers? I seem to be all over the place, don't I? On the contrary, it's all part of a whole. You might forget the forest to see the trees. But it does not mean the forest ceases to exist.

People today may like me a lot. But I can say that while more people like me, less like me more than people once did. Confusing ain't it.

I've learnt that there is something magical called Kindred Spirits. From a word in a book I read in childhood, I learnt it can exist. But I learnt that there will be those that can last only so long. There are those who take up your every moment from the moment you meet. But like a firework display, it comes to an end, though spectacular it was.

There are those who you meet, and you feel the connection and little by little you share a consistent friendship. But like a candle, it has its flickers and could, depending on the force of the wind, go out, but if it withstands even that, eventually still it consumes the length of its candlewick and dies out.

There are friendships that are there when you are alone, or need help, or suchlike. And like a lightbulb, you get light when you need it in the dark, and with a flick of a switch, you can choose when to flick it on, flick it off. But every lightbulb has its own lifespan before the bulb blows - and soon you'll replace it with a different one.

Then you have those amazing, beyond words friends- the friends who are as magical as the stars, those you can't see all the time, but you know are there. And that special star, the one closes, while physically so in analogy, not necessarily so in essence, but certainly closest to one's heart: the Sun. The bestower of sunshine, giver of warmth when cold, restorer of life, provider of energy.

There isn't one type. There can't be. For something as unique as this couldn't be easily replaceable. Every snowflake is different. Every sunrise is different. Every rainbow is different.

And I have learnt that at some time, the snowflake melts, the sun sets, and the colors fade away.

It can hurt, of course it can. Of course it does.

"I think it happens to everyone as they grow up. You find out who you are and what you want, and then you realize that people you've known forever don't see things the way you do. And so you keep the wonderful memories, but find yourself moving on. It's perfectly normal."

My first 'kindred spirit" and I shared 6 incredible years as 'best friends. Eventually our paths diverged. The thing is, when I look back, I can't regret that we ever did meet, because I can trace how I've met every other subsequent special person in my life through a series of 'endings'. Now that I'm here, and looking back, I'm actually pretty thankful for all I have endured, because I've learnt how to appreciate the people who mean a lot to me, and I have learnt how not everyone who seem to matter at first will matter in the end 0 that sometimes you meet some people only to go through an experience and learn that other people who've simply been there through it mean more than you realized, that some people have to come and go for you to realize that some people will always be there. And one of the best things about these best people, you don't really need to say anything. How can anyone who has experienced this kind of friendship say they don't believe in magic?

A week's recap

A best friend having a dramatic breakdown: ready to break up with her bf, ready to quit her job and go to Pakistan. Because her bf ate lunch when she didn't. Avoid being put in the middle of your two best friends when they're bf-gf at all costs.

The feeling of my 5 year old music student crawling into my lap after 'practising' for 2 minutes straight and telling me "I finish", and continuing to sit in my lap while I teach the other kids, and then him announcing the other kids aren't singing loud enough. Priceless. Avoid avoiding bache at all costs.

Half moon nights with stars so bright and figuring out Gal Sun is exactly as long as it takes to walk home from the bus stop to the front door, perfect to the second.

Sunny mornings with the birds. Priceless.

At the end of the week: my worst dushman, the number of classic moments cannot explain the strength of dushmani feeling you leave me with. I totally nafrat you and all I can say is three special words: 'jingle jingle jingle.'

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Pure

I am at my favourite writing spot. My bench on the corner facing the green stretch of grass the newly adorned trees.

On a sunny day like today, almost nothing could beat the tranquility of sitting there, listening to the birds and sunshine talk to each other. All of a sudden life feels like it's all ready to take off, full of the small pleasures that just seem to tempt you to float away like a balloon full of happy. The satisfaction of making a meal everyone loves. The luxury of being pampered in that awesome bestfriend-sisterly affection - and walking out with a silky new hairstyle too! The little teeny weeny guilty secret of having one more piece of Bounty tucked away in the corner of my bag (yeah yeah, so I proclaim myself as a non-lover of chocolate but, excuse me, I don't share my Bounty.) The budding leaves, that newborn green that lasts just for a little while before losnig the magic of newness. The leaves taht adorn their trees so proudly not knowing that one day they grow cold and are shed in a breath of wind.

And then, the sunshine. The beautiful sunshine. Sunshine is my equivalent of happiness. Not just sunlight, for sunlight is the physical entity. It could be a sunny day and yet couldn't make it's mark within my heart if it were not sunshine. Sunshine is not just the existance of sunlight, but my perception and reception of it.

But this today, this morning, yes, this was, is, sunshine. It was the hesitant sunshine that almost asks permission to do its job; it shines warmly, but when not too sure, it hides itself quickly behind the few wispy white clouds it can find in the vast azure sky. And there, along its sunbeams comes a tang of chill, the reminder of a love so deep, hesitant yet confidant, carrying still the chill of something, or someone, missing.

The beauty of this seems so compelling, thoughtful, as if even poetry itself is there imbedded in the workings of nature - almost personified reflections of the human heart.

And the beauty, the almost perfection that sunshine hints at makes me wonder how could anything ever be compared to this, how could I have ever thought anything else could bring the same happiness? Rain, clouds, cold snowy winters, even nights, especially nights, the darkness, the wait for sunshine again - how could it be anything close to this beauty?

Then almost like remembering a forgotten dream, I remembered the night before. The half moon glowing, the stars shining, Venus winking to the side, and the half heart of the Dipper constellation - and best of them all, dancing under them all, alone in a magical world amid the trees. For that was the mystical happiness enshrouded in the night - the veil under which one can let go and spin under the watchful moon, and skip to the stars. And why not?

Last night, sitting on the bus going home late, I fell back in love.

I don't know if I even have to add that 'in love' part, because that feeling was like falling back into my own body, like finding something lost, or finding one's own memory after a while, or like coming back home. It was that feeling that out of everything else in life, this was the one thing that felt, feels, 'right'.

I don't know what it is, what it was that brought me back - but it felt wonderful. It was an almost tangible, audible, 'click', when I realized it had happened to me. Because at first, I didn't realize. All of a sudden I went from numbly cold (having had to wait twice as long in the uncharacteristically frigid cold for my bus home, after telling my dad, who uncharacteristically called me offering a ride home, that I would catch the bus home faster, but without knowing that everyone in the city and their dog decided to get on the same bus I waited for. So me being me, let everyone and their dogs in the crowd push and shove their way onto the already crammed bus, watching with a smile at the circus scene before me, for what could I do about it but, as always, wait?), freezing cold to completely content.

In a split second I felt as if somehow you were there, right there beside me, sharing that complete understanding without a word said. It wasn't reasonable logically, but in that instant, however far you might have been, wherever you were, I felt inexplicably that your spirit was with mine. I felt without having to think twice that in that moment you were thinking of me as I was thinking of you. And there it was, "click", like a key in the keyhole finally unlocking the lock.

Of course, when faced with that confidence of not having to think twice, I had to think twice.How could I be so sure? And even as I asked myself this, I felt still more sure, I felt like asking myself back why I bothered even to doubt, that it was like asking myself after solving a mathematical proof how could it happen, but how could I ask when I had the solution in my hands?

I couldn't ask, because the answer absolved itself of needing a question.

That's what love is.

The mroe I tried analysing, the less I solved. I couldn't put my finger on a reason, was it the song I was listening to? "Uff Teri Ada" wasn't a precursor to trigger hidden memories, but I knew now that the song would align itself with this newfound joy of refallen love. It wasn't the three rowdy guys who, smirking at each other, decided to sit in the seats surrounding me while I , on the other hand ignoring them rapt in my concentration. I couldn't figure it out! All I knew was that I was happy. The kind of happy that couldn't be attributed to anything else. I'd almost forgotten it, the quickened heartbeat, the fluttery stomach, that utter serene contentment that showed itself in the enigmatic Mona Lisa smile yet all at the same instant that exuberance that took its form in impatience, extra energy to sing aloud with joy, to bounce off the walls, to fly in the face of the galaxies.

It's a beautiful feeling. It's that feeling that reminds me of why it's called 'in love', because it's a bubble of joy that holds you in itself and with all the added magic, keeps growing, expanding, holding you afloat.

And you can't burst this bubble, because you don't know who you are.
I don't even know if I know who you are.
But we know.
Love is the answer that needs no question
But when Love is the question
The answer is You.