At times- as I sit in this airport and type- I miss something.
I miss a chat. A conversation. Without weariness. Just 2 individuals nattering away into the sunset. Not realizing the sun rise.
And why is it important? Well- it opens up minds. Just as books do. Just as some movies do. Conversations and vulnerabilities bring in a lot of honesty into a relationship.
I miss the unsaid support. Like a shadow- standing tall with me. Even on the darkest of the days. THAT.
Back to where it all started :-)
No stolen kisses. No broken relationships.
Only handful of memories that tug at your heart.
And the sea. My private zone.
Life is a bloody full circle.
One of the major skeletons that I found today- locked deep in my closet is that of my ego. :-)
Imagine when you hear from your alter ego? And when it says, "I dont trust you enough?"
Yucky yuck right????? :-)
Very strange- I wonder if today is my last night- What if I dont wake up tomo?
Will life be any different? Will my life position dramatically change?
Will I change at all? Will people around me change?
Nothing ever pauses.
As I almost wrap the year- I am back to where I began.
I have a reason to celebrate. No really- today, is a day where professionally I did something right in my life- and I saw I built something killer. And yet- here I am.
Raising a toast to myself.
Good job! Well done. Atta girl.
Good bye 21. I hope sometime when I am alive, I shall feel more alive than now. I am sure that day shall come.
Shunning my universe.
The process of kicking out begins.
On days, I wonder why is the world not tuning in....
A major disconnect.
Suffering is soo very strange. There's a silver lining for those who reach out. For the others.......... ?
Dionne Warwick crooning this.... Something that resonates deep within me. Wonder if she has a part of me :-)
Here you come again
Wanting me to think you really careI always thought that the elusiveness of a chat was romantic. Esp when "I" felt I was the one.
I had one dream all the time. Like I am walking naked along the streets and people were just staring at me.
When a person has been suppressed by the society, they need to blow out the steam.
A channel to let them do this- is not necessarily a platform where you are encouraged to be indignant.
Unfortunately, all it comes down to is, we worrying about what the world thinks of us.
Indignant?? yea. Let's stuff suppression. It matters how we look.
Borders. Boundaries.
Your people. My people.
Your colour. My colour.
Your money. My money.
Your culture. My culture.
Lots and lots of "yours" and "mine" can exist.
But why are better than each other? And why is one more elite than the other?
Why?
Why should there be wars? And why should people's lives pay that price? Who gains? And who loses?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9VhOC2HqvnU
These guys deserve a beeeg bow. I louuve the song to death.
And what meaning! I tried to look up the meaning of the lyric and realized it was philosophy. Not just a song man.
Memories are the strangest things.
I never even knew that they make Lemon Tequila Ice cream. But I stumbled upon it in one of the sweetest moments of life- many light years ago. I ate it.
Like the apple in the garden. And never looked back.
Today, I stumbled upon that ice cream. Universe acts in the strangest ways. I was the middle of a Zoom conference (video shut) when one of my cousins sneaked in a dollop into my mouth saying this is the best thing that happened to them.
The first taste in my mouth. It melted. Slid thru my throat. My cousin left the room in a hurry to introduce this beauty to someone else.
Good she left. Because a moment later, I broke down. No drama. Not silent tears. I just bawled. I went into the loo. Turned the tap and cried like I never did in the recent times.
The thing about moments like this- is that, you can never share it. No one will get the joke. Nor can pacify you. They wont understand. It is far too private and intense.
I still cannot stop the tears. Beauty never fades. Light years never blur anything. Ever. Lemon Tequila is a bitter sweet flavor. Just like I love.
I lost miserably. I put on 5 Kilos in the last 5 months. I had to lose 5.
Now it brings the sum to a grand 10 Kilos.
I cant stop crying today. I hate the scales. I am unable to embrace it with consciousness.
I feel defeated and it's not just the weight on the scales. It is the weight on my shoulders too. I am going down. Surely.
It is.
We all dont even have the choice to be ourselves.
At times- it is all about dancing to the tunes and rhythm of this universe.
Who are we? In the larger scheme of things- I am nobody.
And that- is my truth. Everything else I feel or do is so inconsequential it's not even funny.
We struggled to get him a pair of lungs so he could have had a transplant. We raised the monies.
His body didnt want to be with us anymore. I guess his spirit gave up on this big bad world filled with virus.
He breathed his last. Leaving before a 2 year old kid. No value absolutely to the 1 Cr monies we raised. It didnt matter anymore.
I live amidst hatred and rejection. Our mortality sure is the last thing on our minds. We love the games we play with each other more than anything else.
Our egos will let us believe we will be here forever.
Ankur is dead. Long live our ego.
For the past 2 decades (the first time I heard his name was when I was in 8th grade), here is a name that made me feel that somethings are too good to be true.
I know most of us have him as a role model. For me- he was not. But I didnt have a solid reason as to why he was'nt. There were strong under currents in my gut that told me something was truly off with the guy.
I have no business judging his divorce (and I am not!). The post is about him using his position of power to make passes.
I have a huge problem with that intent. What I wondered was why did it take so many years for this to come out? How nicely he covered his tracks. I wonder about each story.
And I ALWAYS felt there was something that people missed.
We are all a bunch of idiots and fools who will get addicted to a persona that someone wants to show. One can only truly improve if he/she is able to tell and measure the difference of who they truly are to who they want to project they are.
As I said we love what other's show us. And that's where we will all stick to. We will never be able to stand naked in front of even ourselves.
And yet- we believe we will have 1500 friends/followers on social media and think that;s life.
When do we realize that it is a faux world where people only show a side which they want to show? It is the best side. The most charming side. Not the real side.
Reality begins at home. Needs to be corrected at home. Gates is a solid example.
Is revenge the only way to overcome the sense of betrayal?
I wonder at times, if betrayal and revenge are all real emotions? At a time when we are fighting pandemic, and when all hands SHOULD be on the deck, here we are- looking and re-looking at our friends and enemies.
The so-called wise people are slowly showing cracks. The so-called people with strong views slowly realize that their views may not have always been right.
The so-called kind and compassionate people have faltered with intent (Gates- and that's another post). Despite my knowing that nothing is in my control, I cant but wonder at the cruelty of the human race.
We are not conscious of our actions. Each of our actions will have a repercussion that most of the times we dont realize. And that's where communication helps.
It is sometimes good to pause to realize our mistakes in life. And if we do realize them, then atleast we may never repeat.
Someone said spontaneous? Well- that's not an excuse for bad behavior. Ever.
Even a spontaneous moment- if gone wrong, no matter what the reason is- should be backed with an unconditional apology that comes because someone means it.
The feeling of betrayal and my own anger will one day eat me up alive. You can rationalize many things but we can neither reconcile nor understand it completely.
Today, I am breathing. Still. I am grateful.
Yet- here I am- writing out of sadness and anger. World is a strange place full of inequalities. Some of us have it more, some of us have it less.
But the hope to normalize this to an average will never happen. I wont make any brushing statements that I am a better human being. That'll make me a bigot.
There are enough of them who live in this world. Are bigots wrong?
Imagine this- human beings will enrage on Twitter about how people have privilege etc. And then in their lives, they will naturally assume a role that will come with a position of power. And have a rationale to it.
THAT.
As people die around me, I have come to a stage where I am bothered only about my life and nothing else. So when people ask me, "how are you and family doing?"- I say: "I am fine. Alive. I used to think my HUGE extended family is a family- till my second cousins. But now. I am just saying it is the three of us. and our immediate parents.'. And on a day like today, it is just me.
As the lives crumble all around me, my glass house is becoming thicker and stronger for my own defense. Out of fear.
I shall breathe. For the night.
Despite my best friend's father's death. Despite the fact that I couldnt go to meet him and be there with him and drown our sorrows together.
I never defended my anger. This does not mean I support it.
I am aware of it. I am conscious of it. I understand it.
I swore to myself I will move on from writing. Atleast not here.
And yet- here I am. A person has to lick her wounds somewhere.
We cant always live in a world where we cover up our wounds and flaws. My best friend lost his dad. I feel angry.
A major shift in my personal life. A situation that we are trying to manage and failing. And yet- here I am. What keeps me moving ahead on days like this is the gratitude that I am alive. And breathing.
For the first time in my life, i am feeling my breath. And that's the only ultimate truth today. That's what keeps the dead apart from life.
This is the last post.
I have always been like that. I have a blog for every location I lived in. Chennai, London, B'bay. Now its Hyd.
Goodbye! I know I have very few ghost readers. Well- thanks. We are moving on.
On a silent night like this, I would just prefer to be a foetus.
What does it take to just have endless conversations with no pressure of time or tide?
What would we not kill to have a mirror who can converse with you, loll you to sleep and generally do some TLC?
Wait a minute?? Shouldnt that be someone?
Still seeking for my shadow. That vanishes when it becomes dark. Alas, darkness is my only companion. Even in the womb.
On a day like today, it feels like I should give me a big bear hug and cuddle and sleep. With myself.
Sometimes, we are our best friends. It takes such a long time to realize a few things in life. Leaving a very integral part of me here- in Mumbai. On my last night in Mumbai as home. Good bye.
You have taught me life lessons.
On my way to start a new chapter.
A home full of little voices...
That reminds you of the remnants.
The laughter in the hall.
The love making- everywhere.
The baby who poo'ed everywhere.
The vomit that was cleaned with Harpic left a few marks on the marble.
The violin squeaking, banging and then slowly falling into a simple tune.
The cooker whistles.
The toilet flush.
The aloe vera plant that amazingly survived 8 months without water. The dead plants.
The meals. The happy meals. The hard tears.
The financially difficult times. the fights.
Eventually the break up itself.
Remainders of an empty house as you walk... Is like mocking a killed bird.
A portion of me is largely gone.. And yet made space for new things. Hope.
Today... While I am soaking in the moments in privacy trying to bid my home a goodbye, I just felt like lauding myself.
I think this is one of the toughest decisions that I had taken in my life. Honestly, nothing felt more difficult, risky nor safe than moving out of this home I built over the past few years. And yet... I wanted to shake away the safety and security to move on. To move ahead.
It take immense courage- and ask me. I dont know how I am doing it. When the demons come to play with me, esp at night, I am now sighing and sleeping. Letting them know that there's a bigger demon in me that needs sorting and they can do whatever they hell they want to do with themselves.
It takes courage. Lot of it. Truck loads of it to do what I did this time. I am going back to the place where I grew up and ran away from. I am going back to face bigger demons. I am going back to confront these. As I decided to move, I already slaughtered a few demons.
A good start to 2021, I say! Except for collateral damage to my soul, I think I am courageous indeed. Three cheers to me... And to keep me company is my Sangria.
What else is there in life? As a life/thought experiment, pls do it. Figure out what gives you max comfort in life. And plug it out.
You will be humbled. And every person needs a whack on their fat butt everytime we feel comfy.
I am moving. After a decade of pitstop in the city that changed my life and my perspectives on life, I decided to move on.
Like the birth of my child, I wanted to spend moments with this house with just myself. Like my own private time with the house. Walking away is the most difficult thing to do in my life. More difficult than running away.
My life with my extended family fits into 60 boxes. Out of which we can live without a single one of them. We can.
My life is as simple as my hand bag. And as complicated as it gets. It has a bag full of memories and baggage.
Packers have meticulously packed my life and compartmentalized them into stacks and organized my memories. Whatay life. How can I move away from Mumbai?
Of all people, who had a chance to experience Mumbai, I did the most of it. No, really. Short of speaking Marathi, I did everything else that qualifies that I own the city. Get a PR here. Maybe- another life. Maybe a few years later. I might get back. But for now...
As I weep silently sitting in the balcony of my soon-to-be ex-house, I wonder how people separate. It is the most difficult thing. Ask me. I am doing everything to distract myself from the pain.
A home- is so difficult to walk away from. Next time.. Next time, I might protect myself better- so much that I will not attach myself to the concept of home. Home is where the moment is. Atleast, that's how it should be. ANything else- it is just adding karma.
Reluctantly, I begin new chapters. New haircut. New perspectives. New goals. New being.
Just like bhogi. I am moving on. I shall remember this pongal. Forever- ouch!
