Fix It

frostThe hardest promises to keep are the ones you make to yourself. You can’t blame anyone else for breaking it—if you do, you are punishing yourself twice over. Just a few days into the year, and find myself running dry of words, how am I going to keep this blog running? Since I wasn’t keen on doing either, I looked up remedies to overcome writers block, and I was left wondering what kind of ‘block’ I fit into, when this one line caught my eye.

Your outline has a major flaw and you just won’t admit it. You can’t get from A to C, because B makes no sense. The characters won’t do the things that B requires them to do, without breaking character. Or the logic of the story just won’t work with B. If this is the case, you already know it, and it’s just a matter of attacking your outline with a hacksaw….
…There’s nothing wrong with taking a slight detour, or going off on a tangent, and seeing what happens. Maybe you’ll find a cooler transition between those two moments, maybe you’ll figure out where your story really needs to go next. And most likely, there’s something that needs to happen with your characters at this point in the story, and you haven’t hit on it yet. (Read the complete post here)

And it got me thinking. Why do we struggle with detours? Change is inevitable and as much as we like the predictable, we’d never know what we’re made of if we’re never tested! Sure, we have everything we need to sail through our life today, but we always run the risk of becoming co-dependent in our independence. So when someone asks you the Selene Gomez questions in life, you need to have an answer for yourself, no one else…

Who’s gonna walk you through the dark side of the morning?
Who’s gonna rock you when the sun won’t let you sleep?
Who’s waking up to drive you home when you’re drunk and all alone?
Who’s gonna walk you through the dark side of the morning?
It ain’t me

When you have no one, it has to just be only you!


Look And Leap

leapFor a really long time, I found myself in a limbo. I was nowhere close the person I planned to be when I was young. Yet, I like what I’ve become—the blood, the sweat, the tears, the bruises and wounds, I wear them with humility. It’s really easy to yearn to be something we’re not, but let’s face it—most of us don’t know how to reach the pedestals we created for our coveted selves. These castles in the air need solid steps to reach to. And these are more like escalators; you can only go one way. When you fall off somewhere, you’ll never come back to where you were. And that is the trick to being content, you make do with where you land. If you are lucky, you’ll have someone to tell you that you are perfect the way you are, with all your flaws and shortcomings. If you are luckier, you’ll figure it out for yourself!

“Something Just Like This”
(The Chainsmokers with Coldplay)

I’ve been reading books of old
The legends and the myths
Achilles and his gold
Hercules and his gifts
Spiderman’s control
And Batman with his fists
And clearly I don’t see myself upon that list

But she said, “Where d’you wanna go?
How much you wanna risk?
I’m not looking for somebody
With some superhuman gifts.
Some superhero,
Some fairytale bliss.
Just something I can turn to.
Somebody I can kiss.
I want something just like this.”

Oh, I want something just like this
I want something just like this

I’ve been reading books of old
The legends and the myths
The testaments they told
The moon and its eclipse
And Superman unrolls
A suit before he lifts
But I’m not the kind of person that it fits

She said, “Where d’you wanna go?
How much you wanna risk?
I’m not looking for somebody
With some superhuman gifts.
Some superhero,
Some fairytale bliss.
Just something I can turn to.
Somebody I can miss.
I want something just like this.
I want something just like this.”

A Verb Called Love

0070 (2)Love is a verb, a word that makes you do and feel things like no other emotion does. It is really a neatly laid bouquet of synonyms that makes you feel and do a lot of other things too. Right from admiration, affection and respect, it covers everything from sacrifice, guilt, jealousy, greed and even hatred. It’s always around, in some form or another, even when we choose to be alone. We all have a preconceived notions of what kind of love we deserve and desire. Most of it comes from what we feel around us. Everyone has an idea of their perfect love that they hold on to dearly. Some of it is requited, most of mine stays unreciprocated, unappreciated even. Have you found yours yet?

“Crazy Dream” — MLTR

The party’s on the room is crowded, your conversation is so polite
And when you dance you keep your distance, no one’s gonna walk you home tonight
You’re searching for perfect love, you dreamed of when you were young
You’ll find it or you won’t have anyone

Why not forget your crazy dream, about a love that can’t exist
‘Coz while you dream so much you miss, you waste a lifetime

Just take a look below the surface, his golden hair will be turning grey
Though in your mind you pictured heaven, even heaven has a rainy day

No one can touch a dream, so forever you’ve been on your own
You’re older and you are still all alone

Why not forget your crazy dream, about a love that can’t exist
‘Coz while you dream so much you miss, you waste a lifetime

Why don’t you take a look around, now everyone has settled down?
But you still think you’re seventeen, it’s a crazy dream
So take a chance and take your shot
No paradise but it’s all we’ve got, and I will try to make your dream come true…

Lost in Translation 

077Friendships are the most intriguing relationships of one’s life. We learn values at home but their strength and a way of life only with friends. From passers-by, acquaintances, buddies, mates, partners to soul mates and guiding beacons, each of them leave a lasting impact on the direction your life takes. They drive the course of the river called existence, often helping up cross bridges or stepping over moss-covered pebbles and rocks. All of us have close friends; even the loners. As social animals, it is rather impossible to be a hermit; even a hermit needs a rock to live under. That said, every person finds his own corner, a place that he can turn to at his lowest. However, a cry for help comes with its own side-effects. Setting you “right” and being “blatantly honest” about how you need live your life, and how terrible your decision-making skills are, you are labelled a desperado, someone who loves playing the victim even. Suddenly, you’re business becomes a case study for those you bare your heart to.

We are all stuck in a moment at times, when nesting becomes the bane of our existence. Times when our expectations don’t play out the way we want them to. But there is always light at the end of the tunnel, the night has to make way for the day. And some times, all you need is one good day. When that day comes is all up to you, really!

On A Day Like Today – Brian Adams

Free is all you gotta be
Dream dreams no one else can see
Sometimes ya wanna run away
But ya never know what might be comin’ round your way
ya ya ya

On a day like today
The whole world could change
The sun’s gonna shine
Shine thru the rain
On a day like today
Ya never wanna see the sun go down ya never wanna see the sun go down

Somewhere – there’s a place for you
I know that you believe it too 
Sometimes if you wanna get away
All ya gotta know is what we got is here to stay
All the way

On a day like today – the whole world could change
The sun’s gonna shine – shine thru the rain
On a day like today – no one complains
Free to be pure – free to be sane
On a day like today
Ya never wanna see the sun go down
Ya never wanna see the sun go down

Free is all we gotta be
Dream dreams no one else can see 
But ya never know what might be comin’ for you and me
Ya it’s gonna be
On a day like today…

A Bolt From The Blue

imageSo engrossed was she in the library with poetry, that she lost track of time was late in reaching her hostel. Waiting at the gate, Geeta was hoping the otherwise stern matron would let her in, or maybe the kind old watchman? But she could see no one. Worry soon became fear, but the police patrolling made her feel cautiously safe. As she slid into the darkness to hide herself, she could hear the policeman’s soft footsteps come closer. Just as a blood-curdling scream built up in her lungs, a huge soft hand muffled out any sounds. Before she knew it, he was forcing himself on her. Raped and helpless, she couldn’t muster the courage to file a complaint, all she knew was that he was a policeman named was R. Singh. Dejected, she packed her bags and fled for an unknown destination, unaware that he left more of himself inside her than he bargained for.

A year later, in a nondescript village, she bore the child of hate. She didn’t even want to know its gender and gave it up for adoption. With the secret buried in at the back of her closet, she went on to marry an RTI activist. Jaganath was a nice man, just and fair, but she always feared that her secrets would destroy the happy life she had become cozy in. As years passed on, fear was a constant companion: the petrifying death threats often kept her on tenterhooks. The thought of being helpless and alone again in the big bad world without her caring husband haunted her deeply. Years passed by and one day, without warning, fate played its ugliest card. Geeta and her Jagu were enjoying an unusual leisurely Sunday morning tea session. Little did she know, the 5 minutes that she left him alone to fetch the newspaper will turn her world upside-down. At the gate of his very own house, he was shot dead by a corrupt policeman. Her blood froze in terror and anger. It took all her strength to come to terms with the loss and all the questions. Effectively though, it turned her off newspapers. But, as is true for any respected activist, love, sympathy, awe, and shock poured in through the grief. She never really wanted to be a part of any of the “activism” that followed his death. She was a victim of her own situation, and she refused to be a poster girl for it.

Shattered, she chose to be celibate to his loving memory, until she encountered a man not too young, but neither was he old enough to be her father. He seemed to be smitten with her and eventually she let him sweep her off her feet. She had finally lowered her guard, and poured her heart out to Ashok. But she still kept some cards close to her chest, playing the game of wait and watch, just to be sure that her keeper of secrets was the one she could trust. As the mature romance blossomed with her old man, they eventually started spending a lot of time in each other’s happy company. But fate seemed to be a fair-weathered friend to Geeta. As she prepared a feast of to help reduce the severity of what her closet hid, Ashok asked her to accompany him to the pension office. These small things, he deduced, mattered to Geeta; knowing that she was never privy to such simple romantic pleasures of life.

Walking into the dingy old office, Geeta realised that she knows nothing about what Ashok did for a living in his youth. Quite taken by the warm greeting and reception he received, she asked him about his work life. He replied gleefully that the was a cop: fair, and just man with a clean slate, and was well admired and respected in his own social circle. The revelation had hit her like a bolt out of the blue. Politely retracing her steps, she decided to walk away from the suddenly claustrophobic place. Walking into nothingness, she made the best possible effort of reaching home without spilling any tears. But once in the confines of her own nest, she let herself flow a river. Why did this have to happen? Why did she let her guard down? Why, oh why, another cop? The questions and the tears refused to stop. Composing herself after what seemed like an eternity, she walked to her cupboard to pack for yet another destination unknown, shattered and bruised one more time in life. She decided to pick the first and the cheapest getaway that would come her way at the interstate bus terminus.

Ashok, baffled by her sudden exit was left confused, angry, and worried. Was it something he said? Did he cross the line? How can she just take off? I hope she’s fine. With his brain on overdrive, he frantically tried calling her, only to reach the automated “This number is switched off” message. Anxious of her safety, he reached her doorstep, only to find the house locked. Dejected and hurt by her stoic silence, he accepted his defeat, but he chose to be persistent — he wanted to know what went wrong so suddenly.

Then a month later, Geeta finally musted the courage to give Ashok his much-needed closure. They decide on a coffee shop, where they could talk without being bothered. Geeta finally explained her moral dilemma to Ashok: He’s perfect for her, but the wounds of her past are too deep to heal. She’s been scarred for life and cannot come to terms with the fact that she can lead a peaceful life with him, knowing he was once a cop. Heartbroken, Ashok walks away, leaving Geeta with her thoughts; shattered again by her haunted past…

Nothing Last Forever… Or Does It?

050There is no forever-after in life. Everything that starts, has to end somewhere. How that end affects us, is purely up to us. They say all good things come to an end, but we don’t realise why it was good, or we just can’t see the good in things. When a phase of life ends, there is always pain; it’s not human nature to let go. But once the blur of the tears settles, you see with more clarity; hindsight tells you whether your intuitions were justified, or if you read into the signs too deeply. Everything said and done, through  immortality still exists; but that again is beyond the realms of mortality.

Immortality (Celine Dion feat. The Beegees)

So this is who I am,
And this is all I know,
And I must choose to live,
For all that I can give,
The spark that makes the power grow

And I will stand for my dream if I can,
Symbol of my faith in who I am,
But you are my only,
And I must follow on the road that lies ahead,
And I won’t let my heart control my head,
But you are my only

We don’t say goodbye,
We don’t say goodbye,
And I know what I’ve got to be

I make my journey through eternity
I keep the memory of you and me inside

Fulfil your destiny,
Is there within the child,
My storm will never end,
My fate is on the wind,
The king of hearts, the joker’s wild,

We don’t say goodbye,
We don’t say goodbye,
I’ll make them all remember me

‘Cause I have found a dream that must come true,
Every ounce of me must see it through,
But you are my only

I’m sorry I don’t have a role for love to play,
Hand over my heart I’ll find my way,
I will make them give to me

Immortality (oh baby)
There is a vision and a fire in me (ohh)
I keep the memory of you and me, inside

We don’t say goodbye
We don’t say goodbye
With all my love for you
And what else we may do

We don’t say, goodbye

The Choices We Make

055Relationships are a strange and sticky part of your life. While you will be explained that your spiritual being is always a singular unit that is above everything else, it will be drilled into your system from an early age, that you need to keep that very self, or ego aside to accommodate everyone and everything else that keeps you away from that very core of your soul.

This is probably the greatest conflict of adulthood, and that is where the concept of yin and yang germinates. Since man is a social animal, his existence, growth, memories, and karmas are always connected. You will always need a catalyst to tip your karmic balance to either side, good or bad. Whom you choose, and why you chose them, shape your journey of life. And these relationships are not always intimate: Some may be platonic, and others a mere catalyst. How you behave with  the beings around you, and more importantly, how you let them go when their task with you is done, is where you learn your lessons. That is where we shape our personalities; we decide to be caustic, nice, or nasty… The choice is ultimately ours.

Superman (It’s Not Easy) – Five For Fighting

I can’t stand to fly I’m not that naive
I’m just out to find
The better part of me

I’m more than a bird, I’m more than a plane
I’m more than some pretty face beside a train
And it’s not easy to be me

I wish that I could cry
Fall upon my knees
Find a way to lie

Bout a home I’ll never see

It may sound absurd but don’t be naive
Even heroes have the right to bleed
I may be disturbed but won’t you concede
Even heroes have the right to dream?
And it’s not easy to be me

Up up and away away from me
Well it’s all right

You can all sleep sound tonight
I’m not crazy or anything

I can’t stand to fly I’m not that naive
Men weren’t meant to ride
With clouds between their knees
I’m only a man in a silly red sheet
Digging for kryptonite on this one way street

Only a man in a funny red sheet
Looking for special things inside of me
Inside of me, inside of me,
Inside of me, inside of me

I’m only a man in a funny red sheet
I’m only a man looking for a dream
I’m only a man in a funny red sheet
And it’s not easy, it’s not easy to be me