Smashed

At the moment, I thought I could just relay the thoughts directly to the one it's meant for, but I realized the thought itself was part of the artwork that underlies most of what I put forward in my blogs, so here I am.

I'm not sure how to describe it; that delicate fragile beauty that represents the aura of a moment or, not just A moment, but the little things that contribute to reaching that moment. For the reason itself that I am here writing this is a combination of being lost in thought while listening and watching a beautiful song and being reminded of another thought I had some time ago, and the thought of wanting to share that fragile moment for what was represented by what I heard and what I saw, and most importantly what I felt because of the first two. That, along with then being asked randomly a question that related so entirely to that fragile thought and those feelings, and tying in to the thoughts that had stemmed from the reminder of previous thoughts.

I was thinking tonight, I'm not sure which song it was, I feel it must have been just all of the songs that had been playing, yet I wasn't entirely there. My mind was miles away and thinking, I'm not sure what exactly, it was just out there lost and somehow at peace, daydreaming. I think one must know the songs that induced the mood to understand the mood; tu jaane na, kaisi yeh judai hai, tadap tadap, dil de diya hai, kal ho na ho instrumental.. and well, I'm not sure but I thought many thoughts and one main thought came out as a result of all the churning my mind did.

I was thinking, before, there was darkness. Tanhai. The empty echoes of what lonely meant, of solitude, of yearning but never having, of waiting, of settling for the state of being alone. Settling, yet still aching. And I was thinking, how back when there was that serendipity of meeting someone who understood, shared, empathized and could...how can I explain it, but like being able to finish sentences..but rather, be able to conclude feelings with that same feeling, because they knew, and knew on such a frequency it was like finding yourself in another - when there was just that chance encounter, the opportunity to be able to fill just however many more moments with being with that reflection of the self was enough, - it was enough and yet you admit you craved more and wanted more but you settled for what you got because it was enough - and it was enough because, all of a sudden, it meant not being alone.

And that realization was like a sudden spread of contentment in my soul, of some magic feeling just filling my heart. Because I realized that no matter how many storms, or lightning bolts, or whatever we threw at one another, no matter how often emotions turned off and got angry or hurt, it was sharing, feeling and thus living and...and it meant not being alone.

And when you were and are not, how can you not want the storms?



Kaisi ye judai hai, aankh bhar meri aayi hai
Mera dil doob raha, ise bas ab doobne do
Ye pehli bar hua, ye kyu ehsaas hua
Mera dil ab toot raha, ise bas ab tootne do….

Mujhe bas ab rone do,is gam ko behne do
Ye sath jo toot raha, ise aaj bas chhootne do
Kaisi ye judai hai.. aankh bhar meri aayi hai
Mera dil doob raha ise bas ab doobne do

Ek bat satati hai, jab teri yaad aati hai
Kyu mujhse rooth gaya, jaane kyu door gaya
Ye pehli bar hua, ye kyu ehsas hua
Jane anjane kyuu…mujhe tumse pyar hua
Hanste hanste rota hu, rote rote hansta hun
Phir khud se kehta hun…jo hona tha…hoo hi gayaa.

Unsootable

And that's when my heart sank and I knew it was the end to it all.

The last samosa was gone.

I'm not even sure how it happened, I just reached my hand into the brown paper bag, pulled out one and commenced the process of consumptive delectation all the while running the thinking-machine constructively in a wonderful instance of multitasking.

The sun was out and washing itself through the office as I sat there ruminating on some work. It was a Friday morning and there was that quiet hum generated from the meeting of the quiet of my office floor and the bustle of voices down below. The aura was one of contentment, arising from starting the morning off with the one you just woke from dreaming of, being offered breakfast by a certain best friend, meeting another before he drives off to work, and a series of amusing correspondence with a coworker.

Yes, I admit, it was yet early for snacking. But strangely enough, I was hungry. And so it was, my morning contentment shattered when I realized that last samosa I had, was in fact THE last samosa.

The rest of the day was now bereft of any anticipation of samosaheaven. Dun dun dun.

Regal

If he loves you now, what else matters? He's not perfect. You aren't either. And the two of you will never be perfect. But if he can make you laugh at least once, cause you to think twice, and admits to being human and making mistakes, hold on to him and give him the most you can. He's not going to quote poetry. He's not going to be thinking of you every moment. But he will give you a part of him that he knows you can break. So, don't hurt him. Don't change him. Don't expect more than he can give you. Try not to over-analyze. Smile when he makes you happy, yell when he makes you mad. And miss him, when he's not there.


That's from one year ago, well a year and a few days now. But then it was that magic of possibility and returns again, with a new spring.

Not that it needed to wait for spring to fluorish. It's just that magic of comparing then to now and saying ok yes, some things are the same.

Last evening was one of those brilliant gloomy ones. You feel, smell, sense that revitalizing essence that is spring. I had to get off a train that decided to stop working and I was overwhelmed suddenly by the beauty of the evening. The balmy wind though your hair like a caress, on your face like a lazy kiss. The mist that tingles your visual faculties and blurs everything into a serene mystery.

And that happy feeling of being able to listen to some really good songs after a vacation from good songs. And the magical hum on the airwaves, something that's there on the horizon, or whispering through the breezes, at some times you pick up a note of tu hi arzoo hai tu hi justju hai baaki ab raha kya? or the opening chords of kisi ka sapna lage tu.., somehow there is magic in the air and it comes out curiously and tickles your senses so that it leaves you like a kitten fascinated with a ribbon that keeps eluding yet enticing. You feel like tilting your head to the side like one and yet pouncing into the air with exuberance. Or maybe that's just me.

Mrow.

Reaction

For some time now, I'd been doing that thing we all do at times: reminiscing. True, there is hardly anything surprising in this. Not that we all do this at times, but that I have been. I'm guilty of the practise almost every other moment. And one of the products of such a pastime is in comparing today to a year ago. As such, I'd been thinking about how one year ago, there was a new song that fit the mood, the theme of lyrics being applicable to the situation; how much more - one year ago - the intimacy of sharing music and relating was a habit, compared to now where such little things have been put on backburners, where it's not so important to let those important things be voiced - why? When you give so much enthusiastically and its slapped away with a noncommittal reaction, is it so unreasonable that the enthusiasm dies? Then you have to hide the hurt, because hurting itself becomes unreasonable. Straighten your back, care less, hurt less.

So, I'd been thinking it's been so long since I had a song. Emphasis on "A" song; there had been a history of those special songs that just were THE song. Suddenly, the realization that there haven't been any, aren't any anymore came to light. Upon considering the whys and wherefores of this, I had to come to the conclusion that it in fact was attributable to the same enthusiasm-slap reaction. Why put your heart on a platter when the receiver doesn't care to relish the taste.

In any case, it's not about the self, more of accepting. Cutting out parts of yourself to make room for smoother sailing, because those things aren't half as important as the reason for it all.

And so yes, today I've got one. It's one of them that just jump out at you, where the lyrics describe and explain it all so accurately.


Kehte hain khuda ne is jahan mein sabhi ke liye
Kisi na kisi ko hai banaya har kisi ke liye
Tera milna hai us rab ka ishara maano
Mujhko banaya tere jaise hi kisi ke liye
Kuch toh hai tujhse raabta
Kuch toh hai tujhse raabta
Kaise hum jaane hume kya pata
Kuch toh hai tujhse raabta
Tu humsafar hai, phir kya fikar hai
Jeene ki wajah yahi hai marna isi ke liye
Kehte hain khuda ne iss jahan mein sabhi ke liye
Kisi na kisi ko hai banaya har kisi ke liye

Meherbaani jaate jaate mujh pe kar gaya
Guzarta sa lamha ek daaman bhar gaya
Tere nazara mila, roshan sitara mila
Takdeer ki kashtiyon ko, kinara mila

Sadiyon se tarse hai jaisi zindagi ke liye
Teri sauhbat mein duaayein hain usi ke liye
Tera milna hai us rab ka ishaara
Maano mujhko banaya tere jaise hi kisi ke liye


Kehte hain khuda ne iss jahan mein sabhi ke liye
kisi na kisi ko hai banaya har kisi ke liye
Kuch toh hai tujhse raabta
Kuch toh hai tujhse raabta
Kaise hum jaane hume kya pata
Kuch toh hai tujhse raabta

Tu humsafar hai, phir kya fikar hai
Jeene ki wajah yahi hai marna issi ke liye
Kehte hain khuda ne iss jahan mein sabhi ke liye
Kisi na kisi ko hai banaya har kisi ke liye

March

Now that I'm almost fully better (almost being the operative word) I feel that it is necessary to balance the forces by putting forward a somewhat rehabilitated account of things.

It is interesting to observe the correlation between mind and body, or emotional state to physical. As such, I can attest to the functionality with which my dip in physical well-being translates to the emotional state. Whereas I opted to vent the lapse in words as is evident in my last blog submission, I feel it is only justice to be able to return again and also account for the restoration.

The sun's out pretty much in full force today, and while that seems to be something to celebrate, it is in fact accompanied by the bracing, frigid and biting cold that cuts off the instinct to cheer. It's March! Yay for the obvious.

In any case, stepping out while the sun is up and at it is invigorating. The beautiful dove strutting its stuff alongside, another plus. It is Monday, and it is another new day in another new week. When we craved for the light, we cherished it so much more for it's absence. When it creeps up and accompanies us day in and day out, we forget that we missed it.

When all you wanted deep inside was that one thing, the somewhat natural instinct built in us - in the mind? in the heart? - to long for that which would or should complete us, when it becomes ours we work so hard to make it something regular. Regular because, if regular and just as mundane, it would have less tendency to dissipate? Regular because for fear of throwing it up in the air like confetti, the wind might blow it right out of our hands? Regular because it's better to keep it close and accept it because there is no longer any need to place it on an altar to cherish and worship?

Regardless of the many possibilities, we are, as such, creatures of habituation. We acclimatize to changes and we have a bad habit of making the extraordinary ordinary. When we have what we always wanted, so easily we fidget and fuss with that which we have to want even more or something else. And we forget what we have is what we need, else we would not have been given it. Then how can we be such ungrateful beings to turn away in a moment of despair from that which we have, which we wanted, which we need.

Sometimes not everyone could be as lucky to say that, thankfully, that which I need also needs me. And when you turn away from something like that, you can't walk or run too far before that elastic bond has you snapping back. And it in itself is a torment you yearned for, to feel, and feel everything that it instills and begets.

So when the rains come lashing down and the clouds cover everything, it makes it all the more beautiful when the sun comes back out.