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

Immortality
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,
yeah
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

Turning A New Page: A Birthday Like Never Before!

111You can never have enough friends, never have too many of them, or ever run out of them. There was a time, when I truly thought I can’t keep pace with the people I enjoy being with, so maybe it’s time not to forge any new bonds. But friendships, possibly like love, just happen. The last one year didn’t really start with a bang. A new workplace, after a few traumatic experiences, meant a more cautious and closed outlook to everything. By mid year, things just couldn’t get any worse.

And, surprisingly, they didn’t. Slowly, and gradually, I found some missing pieces. Joys are never where you look for, and neither is despair. But yet these manage to find you without fail. 2013 has made me a better person: It made me a person that I like; it defined who I wanted to be.

And I couldn’t have done it without you. At any point I thought I can’t do this alone, I didn’t have to, I always had someone to fall back on. There have been people I’ve known for ages, but truly discovered only now. Their stories awe me, their strength is baffling, and their grace and dignity is moving. For stepping up to task of standing by me, sharing your stories, and for just being the person that you are to me, I thank you.

You my dear friend, are the best birthday gift I could have never asked for: I’ve never known what I wanted, but you guys did!

Monumental Bliss!

086I seem to be bugging perfect strangers (yes, I am talking about you, my blogging friend!) with my constant rants about my first trip outside my country. But I can’t seem to get over the tourist syndrome I feel for Prague. In the picture, there are several beautiful monuments that describe the scenic beauty of Prague City like the Charles Bridge, and the National Theatre. But that’s not what I want to talk about today. I managed to catch up with some very pleasant young women journos on the trip and a young and dynamic Czech lawyer, and I realised that when we look at these buildings as a tourist, they seem more important, and magical. In hindsight, don’t all our problems get solutions when looked at from a neutral stand point? OK, this post is about to get both emotional and philosophical, so you can stop right here if you’re not into that, especially on a photo blog. For the others, thank you for reading on!

I have been in a corporate set up for well over six-and-a-half years, and it has taught me new things about the human mind. While most of it amazes, and at times baffles me, there are times when it shakes me up quite badly. (I am a part of the same eco-system, being a human, right?) Shit happens all the time and mostly it happen to others, but do we really learn from mistakes of another? If you think about it long and hard, you generally get a cautious attitude at the most, but for the learning you need to know why the mistake was made and only then you can fix it. However how many of us reflect upon and realise our own mistakes? Do we really make an effort to rectify and avoid them, or do we refuse to acknowledge the something went wrong and look for scapegoats to pin the blame, instead?

Read on here… Monumental Bliss!