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?

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


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.                    

Friday, April 16, 2010



I have been practically aching to get to my blog and write about the amazingness of spring, and it's been days and days of not having the opportunity to do so. Not only that, it's been a hell of a week of what could be called frustrations because me being me, every little thing pretty much inspires me, or fascinates me, or sets me thinking, or perhaps daysdreaming, up there in the clouds.

The thing is, I carry notebooks everywhere I go. I have books at home. I carry one in my bag (ok, two), and I even keep one at work. Why? Because I write incessantly, and if it were possible (which it is not), almost as much as I think. I don't think too much. I think more than too much, and to my thinking, that just isn't too much! What do I do with the things I write? Nothing really. I mostly share some of it here on my blog. Otherwise, I come up with all these thoughts that seem to nudge that boundary of knowledge a bit farther, and in some attempt at keeping it, I write it.

Now this week, I had so much to write, and guess what, I didn't have a PEN. Or rather, I did, but it died! When I opened it up to examine it properly, I got ink all over my hands. Great. And every day I would suddenly come up with something to write, and pull out my notebook, and rummage in my bag, to come up with the dead pen and realize I still hadn't put a new pen in. I cannot even put in words that amount of things that set my mind wandering and wondering. So many little things! So many little things that somehow become big things. I don't know how to explain how the smallest things bring such a great amount of happiness. Even hearing my friend -mind you, who has never been really ANGRY at me- hearing her ANGRY at me, and ready to cuss and everything; That made me happy too! Being angry at someone else and them telling me to keep my anger in check- boy, that made me happy too! Being unhappy makes me happy. I don't know! It's just the amazing vastness of possibilities that I keep encountering in life.

My dad, who on a level of his own is my very own best friend, he once said that I have the mind of a 5 year old, and always will. It's simply the way I find everything as if I have just seen it for the first time. On one hand I have this deep thinking that makes people call me 'mature', and a way of understanding people that kind of scares them, but I think it is just because of being able to relate and well, of course the experiences one goes through in life as well.

So that brings me to the greatest thing happening in life nowadays: SPRING!!!! A few days ago, when I set foot outside ready for another day, all I could think about was the world was so amazingly GREEN!!!!

The lush grass, the budding trees, the dewy leaves, it's just as beautiful as a newborn baby entering the world, because that's just what the world has been doing again and again each year around. But, by God, it's BEAUTIFUL!!!!!!

Now that I said that much I HAVE to write the coolest thing I witnessed one night ago - A shooting star! It was beyond incredible. Mostly, because it was gone in a second, and if I hadn't been staring up at the sky watching the stars as I walked home that night, watching the constellations and thinking how the Big Dipper looks like half a heart because the third star in it's pan was dim, and if I hadn't turned the corner at my street and entered it, I wouldn't have seen it. But in that one second, I did. It was an occurance that happened in a blink of an eye, but for that moment in a lifespan, I witnessed it.

I can't emphasize enough on how it is such little amazing things like these that brings me a new love for life itself. A star that goes by in the blink in an eye. A person who you just smile at, and becomes your best friend. A bird that flies by, stopping you for a fraction of a second to watch it, saving you from getting run over by a drunk driver running a red. Just a word, or just the way it is said. Just an email, or the way it is worded, which smileys is used, which are not. All the little intricacies that make up everything we encounter, all of it building up who we are, and who we could be.

In the past week, I've battled with ups and downs in emotions regarding people. Selfishness and selflessness. People who don't make steps forward in a relationship, but require people to do all the walking towards them. How does it work? How much can one person keep trying when the other doesn't seem to care? How can you let them know that they mean so much that you keep trying, even when they seem not to notice. And ultimately, when do you let go? We are all a little bit selfish, to different degrees. Because to be selfish is to be able to survive. Pushing people away from us is one way of surviving. Depending on people is another person's way. And then there is death, the ultimate reaper. When death takes someone we love away, which survival tactic then saves us? ...

Mind you, I've pretty much summarized the thoughts that have swirled around in my head all week here. In my notebook, they are pages and pages. Maybe one day, I'll share them as well.                    

Tuesday, April 06, 2010


The thing is, I wanted to write something (when don't I?). I had the updates about my April Fools Prank (best actress skill definitely goes to me!!) to write about. I had updates about the weather. I had another inspiring abstract piece of writing that I wanted to put down in writing. I know I can do all that still. Especially now that I've somewhat broken the ice on how to start writing (writing about not being able to start writing is ALWAYS the best way!).

But guess what, I had to go back and look through some old emails. And here I am stuck at one of those depressing u-turns (literally, my mouth is a downward 'u' now.)

I don't want to cry. I sort of feel like it, but I have gone through this much by keeping my head up, heart up, have accustomed myself to accepting everything as it is now, even though so much has gone through extreme metamorphosis. Some people would say that is why you don't save such stuff, because of course it will make you sad: you can't bring back these memories, you can't unchange that person, you can't make them care as much as they once did. No point in looking back. All those "I told you so" type of lines. I KNOW ALL THAT. But I want to remember. I want to be able to say: we had this once upon a time. This is why you mean as much as you still do even if everything has changed. It isn't just what you have done, it isn't just what you have said, it is just who you are. So even if my first reaction was "Where did this person go? :(", I know..., or.. I don't know.

It's like complaining about the rain and the cold weather today, and missing the beautiful weather we had yesterday. Now that I look back, somehow I feel that I took it for granted. But I know that I didn't. I did appreciate it, and I tried to show that I did. I don't know.

Is this the weather influencing my mood again? Yesterday I was up in the sky, even though I was still sick, but everyone was saying that I didn't look it, in fact I just kept getting compliments about looking fresh and bubbly; so was that just the sunshine reflecting off me? ARGGGGGGGG

Breath in, 2 3 4 Out 2 3 4.. Deep breath in...and out. Ok oxygen do your thing.

I wish the sun was out though :(