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Tuesday, February 15, 2011

My own sunshine

I waited so long. 
I waited, till late. 
But I waited all the while,
For my own sunshine. 


I stood in the rain
And I danced with the wind,
And I smiled, when they cried
As I waited, for my own sunshine. 


I still look up at the sky
And at night, count the stars
I try to sleep tight
Waiting all this while, for my own sunshine. 

The thing about baggage


As complicated or un-complicated, one might be, there is always a past. A past does not always imply a series of dramatic events, one can make a bollywood film out of. But, there is always a sense of baggage. More for some people, than the others.

My point is?

Well, my point is simply this- we don't entirely realize how our past shapes who we are. It could be our equation with our parents/ siblings, death or accidents we could never come to terms with, a childhood romance gone sour or even being the jack of all trades at school. The memory of any of these incidents traces us right back to that time and right back to just how they made us feel. I've always believed that people may come and people may go, but we will always remember how they made us feel. Unknowingly, these incidents carve out who we are. The way we felt remains in some silent part of us, but it does remain. Even in moving on and forgetting, we move on as a different person- the person we become as a consequence of the experience we eventually might try to forget.

So you see it's a pity, when people like me decide to dislike their roots, like to be vague about past experiences, however silly they might be in the bigger scheme of things, because it is these experiences, that make me the person I am. It is amazing, how thinking about all this and looking at it from a completely new perspective, feels like the process of solving that one math question one can never solve in the entire exercise- you've made little notes around it, 'starred' it because you were told it is important, you've attempted it before and you had watched your teacher shake her head in disapproval as she highlighted the silly mistake you made. Yet, as you try it again, you can't seem to get it right, repeatedly. And just like that, after a quick cup of coffee and/or a shower, you see your silly mistake right in front of you and nail it- just freaking right. I used to love that feeling. More so because it came with a sense of pride, because you know, I figured out where I was wrong, all by myself. 


It's a birthday resolution of sorts. I'm going to come to terms with all this jazz, you know. Because, it's not like  I've faced those real problems. I'm mean am born in an India that is free and democratic and liberalized enough to afford a spoilt, thankless generation like ours. But there are things, little ones here and there that made me feel a certain way, that made me do certain things and that make me so cautious today. There have been people I've loved and lost, people I've lost and realized how much I loved and then there are people I don't think I tell enough that I do infact care about them. It's high time to get these things straight. I am freaking 22! For how long can I continue to be so walled up? For how long can I use running away as a solution to almost everything. For all the things I thought I'd be when I'm 22, escapist was never one of them. Well, neither was chubby, but that's another story altogether. Maybe, I've tried running in every direction, but by the end of it, somehow, I land up right where I started. So I got to make the start right. I've got to learn to trust and I've got to learn to let go. I've also got to seriously get this chubbiness off me.  ;)

~

Monday, February 14, 2011

The mountain and the mole


I've been writing lesser. This, after I promised a blog revamp, posts that made more sense and an honest effort to not beat around the bush. It's a pity I know. But as I write this, I know fully well that this post will, also be followed by an unreasonable gestation period until I loose my marbles and put up a series of ridiculously morbid poetry-of-sorts again.

It is time consuming, I say- this laziness, this sudden sense of comfort I have developed with procrastination. The worst part is that I am not really slowing down. I am however, delaying, dreaming and over-thinking, quite a bit. I am distracted, oh so distracted. By what, you ask? Oh that I am afraid I cannot determine! Its not one thing, its so many but when I sit to count, it is nothing at all. The old itch is coming back, I fear. The itch to just get up and fly. Not even run away. Just look up and fly. Just like that.

But along with all this need for freedom, change and all that jazz, there is a sense of shallowness. I can't explain it. I've never been able to. But I go to sleep every night without making a difference. I evolve, I learn and oh I've changed so much for the good et cetera. Yet, I still don't reach out. How has this blog which I have maintained for years, now, helped anyone? And by help, I don't mean I pity or sympathize, heck I am not entitled to that, but is there any need at all I've fulfilled?

I try to be there for friends, for family. We all do, don't we? But I am a little more self-obsessed that most people I know. Selfish? not at all. But self-obsessed, yes. I had never really seen a problem with that. But off late, I feel shallow. I have ridiculous reasons of worry. I fret over absolute non-issues and I do not know if I will ever get into politics. I  don't intend to make this an I-hate-my-life post. I am very happy, in fact. But there is something missing. Something, undefined, but still so important. Something that shouldn't be missing. I just can't pin point what it is yet.

~

Thursday, February 10, 2011

The moral of the story

I feel like one of those children. 
You know the kind that want a toy really bad. They cry, they crib, they whine, they get bruised, they fight, they do all they can and get that toy. 
When they get it, they hold it in their hands and stare at it from all sides. 
Then, they discard without so much as a movement of the eyebrow and walk away.

~

Sunday, February 6, 2011

There is always a reason to smile


...but it has to come from within the self.

Always.

Because, when it doesn't, it will fade away. Or well, it is  just a bubble. 

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Wanderlust

So, I've made up my mind this must come to an end.

(yes, I will always love abba)

Places, cities, neighbourhoods et all that I want to and will go to this year.
  1. Bombay: My favourite city. A trip there is LONG pending.
  2. Chennai: So that should probably cover a Kodai/Pondi?Mahabalipuram as well.
  3. Goa: I've never been there. Nothing more left to be said now, is there?
  4. Gujarat: Due to too much of Gujarati talk around me these days. Hence the curiosity needs to be quenched.
  5. Neemrana: Realistic weekend plan.
  6. Rishikesh: Well, rafting basically.
I think this should do, for now?
Ah yes, not very ambitious, out of the world places, are these? But they are realistic ambitions. And apart from these some impromptu trips need to be made, but let's leave them out of documentation, lest the fun be ruined.

Running away is on my mind.