Monday, October 11, 2010


I turned around,
And saw the footprints staring at me.
Of the years of struggle, they reminded me.
The hours that I prayed hardest, I recalled.
Of the moments when a smile
was all I had to hide my grief.
I smiled back at the forgotten footprints.
The prints I left on the sand.
The waves beckon once again.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

To do or not to do

Once bitten, twice shy, they say. Not me, I mused ruefully. But then the common proverbs and the social rules don’t apply to me, do they? I have been different. It is within. What I am to the world is not what I am to myself. Why is there this paradox in my existence? Sometimes I want to be myself the way I am to myself, always. It is not hypocrisy, again. It is living wisely. What hurts is not the constant existence in the paradox, as that is part of my nature, my character and my being now. Rather, what hurts is the need to have a paradox. The ways of the world, the absurdities in the world, the contradictions, the ignorance, the pressures, the living between all of these and knowing that nothing will change, no matter how much I rebel.

Hope is a dicey word, someone told me once. It is, indeed. It is the diciest thing one could hang on to. It reminds me of Yudhisthira’s answer to the Yaksha’s question: ‘What is it to wonder?’, to which Yudhisthira answered, that just like the moth flutters around in glee and excitement, at the sheer happiness of being alive, knowing all the while that it’s life will not last more than a minute, we humans too, know well, albeit deep within, that all is temporary, all will end, and that there will be a day that will be our last, yet we live each minute thinking and hoping that day will never come. Death indeed is the greatest wonder. We know not whether this is our last sunrise or the final dinner, though we know well that there will be that one last sunrise in the end. Yet, we live like there is no such day and no such word as ‘last’. We hope.

The issue of marriage has been placed before me as frequently as it would have been before any 24 year old, unmarried, temporarily unemployed, non-engineer, non-doctor, Malayali girl. Though I admit that marriage is not an option I won’t consider, I cannot help wonder why I need someone with me to complete me. Or do I really need someone at all? Why is it that when someone has lived a life for 25 years with a unit that one was born into, one’s own immediate family, one’s parents, who do indeed complete her, then why is it really required to marry on the grounds that your partner completes you? That strikes off Reason 1, marriage does NOT complete either of the two partners. If at all it does something, after a point of time it leaves you feeling more incomplete than you might have felt before you were married. Reason 2- it is the normal course of life.

I have been told it paves the path for a meaningful life. That I must not comment on its significance as it would prove my own ignorance, simply because this is the most normal course of life. Even if I may agree with the former part of the sentence about my ignorance, I would strongly differ with the latter part about marriage being the normal course of life. Leading a meaningful life has nothing to do with marriage. A married life can be made meaningful, no doubt. But whether life in itself becomes meaningful with marriage is something that can be extensively debated. The ability to make one’s life meaningful lies in one’s own self, and not in an agent like marriage. Marriage is only one of the ways of making it meaningful. The only reason it can create a sort of balance within you is in the constant knowledge at the back of your mind that you are living with someone 24 hours a day, 365 days a week, someone absolutely different from you, with a completely different upbringing from yours, with a totally different value system from yours. Yes, it does create a balance in you. And how it does so is by helping you keep your ego down by one degree with each passing day, each struggle and each conflict that both the parties face with each other, only to teach you at the end of the whole journey how meaningful a life it was, or could have been.

The struggle is on, for a more meaningful life. At the end of the day, I guess, its not just the end that matters, but also the means you choose to reach that end. Where does it all lead, I wonder sometimes. I know not much. I know I know not much. But I know it will all be worth it in the end.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

Change, is the way it is.

Why was I getting pissed at his comment, I wondered. I could feel the smoke rising up and out of my ears over and over again. This was nothing unusual. Then why do I react so much? And when will I learn to simply not take it in. I sigh to myself. What is preventing me from doing that ‘take-a-deep-breath’ exercise to calm myself down? My ego. I had the answer. And I had the next question ready too. Am I enjoying the pain, the irritability, the anger? When I know its not good for me, then why am I not doing something about it? Perhaps this is one question I will never find an answer to, ever!
For a lot of people like me, in my generation (I don’t know much about the older one here), this is a common issue—not knowing why we make the same folly every time. All that we’re left with, is a sigh. I don’t like this sort of an existence. After a point of time, you get used to it, and then when you want to come out of it, you realize you’re just too old to change now. What the hell!
Am I really too old to change? I doubt so. The way I see it, I am never too old to change. And why is it a crime to change once you know WHAT you have to and what you WANT to change about yourself? Why must I be seen as a hypocrite if I want to change something about myself? There is a thin line there, I guess. Either I change what I need to change about myself and do it fast, or change what I WANT to change and subsequently follow the crowd. That is not changing, then. That is simply, aping. And very equivalent to monkeying around too.
Perhaps what is needed is to just be simple. Know what is good for you. Know what is not good for you. And most of us are endowed with a moderately sensible notion of good and bad in our mind. And you cannot deny that there IS a good and a bad, a black and a white. And a grey. What we need to know is that you do not need to stick to either the black or the white, the good or the bad. Just on the stuff that lies in the middle. The greys. Its ok to have a bit of black and bit of white in you. Whats important is to KNOW them all—the blacks, the whites and the greys. KNOW them and your conscience will take care of the rest.
Now that I am through with the post, I guess I can do that ‘take-a-deep-breath’ exercise. But hey, I might drop off. Hell, what was it all about in the first place?!

Thursday, May 6, 2010

"I" Dont Matter

There is a me that I know.
There is a me that you dont.
There is a me for the world.
And a me that I love.
A me for today.
A me for tomorrow.
A me thats forever.
A me that taught me
that YOU are what matters most.

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Help! It Doesnt Help!

Of late, I’ve been wondering why it is so difficult being good. And why it is so difficult to survive in this world, if you’re good. I’ve recently learnt from some of my close colleagues at work and in my social circle, that I have a general impression on people as a “really sweet and good girl”. Now, why? I couldn’t help wonder. Because I do not put in too much of a thought when helping someone, to the extent of being labelled as gullible by many. Because I have been taught to love people first before I judge them, if at all I must judge them. Because I know not the ways of the corporate world, and seem to be the most accessible person, when it comes to getting drawn into office politics and resolving them. Because I always carry an extra napkin, an extra tissue, a Polo, toffees, a Paracetamol, a balm, and Hajmola in my bag for anyone who needs them. The question is not of why I do all this. The question is, why everybody raises an eyebrow, at least within, every time you help someone more than twice.

I have learnt from the episodes of my life, that it is difficult to survive in society without letting the social become personal. Perhaps it is also difficult to survive in this world if you let the social become personal. The latter is true because there is a circle, an aura around you, a shield, that you guard and protect yourself with, diligently. Everything that happens beyond the shield is external to you, and you therefore, gradually learn to not let anyone or anything go too deep within. It might lead to a certain level of insensitivity. But it obviously comes with maturity. And therefore cannot really be called insensitivity. The former is perhaps slightly more technical, and important too. When you let the social become personal, either you become too involved with the social. Or, you learn to just love unconditionally, yet retain the shield.

Last month I found a kitten stranded in my office compound. When I took it out of the carton in which the sweeper had put it in order to dispose it off, I did a slightly exaggerated emotional outburst (that sometimes comes to me naturally :))). To call it a regular cute lil kitten would be an insult to mere admiration, for it was indeed the cutest living thing I had ever seen in my life. I can say that confidently as I have had six generations of cats in my house, and therefore have handled kittens before. But had never seen the likes of little Mimi, as I called it. Well, the story here is not of Mimi (how much do I digress!), but of the drama that preceded my act of bringing Mimi home. I could never understand how the sweeper could be cruel enough to let the little kitten free somewhere outside our office. Our office is located in this no-mans-land where actually no-men-live. The only species you would find are dirty dusty labourers and hard(ly-)working, robot-like, heartless, pretentious, spineless bosses. When I decided to take the kitten home, I was flooded with compliments about what a big heart I have and how sweet I am and how unassumingly helpful I am!! Someone even came and told me I am ‘unconventionally helpful’, whatever that means!!! I was taken aback at why the whole thing had actually snowballed into an issue concerning an act of sympathy that deserves a reward!. Why is it that my act of helping was being seen as something unnatural? Won’t anyone’s heart melt when they see a helpless little kitten stranded?

Perhaps it is not really an issue. Perhaps they were just acknowledging my good deed for the day. But I did wonder why no one else was really volunteering to help. I had to choose to not take the office bus that day, and resort to an autorickshaw and spend 100 bucks, simply because one of my colleagues was terrified of cats. I never felt even for a moment that what I had done was an astounding act of kindness or something. But it did make me wonder why it is a big deal to help someone in distress nowadays. Have we become so involved in our own lives and problems, that we have become blind to the pain of our neighbour who has just lost a loved one or had a surgery? Or do we just choose to not believe that something similar can happen to us too. That someday, perhaps we might just need that help that we had once offered or ignored someone. I do not suggest that we should expect reciprocation when we help someone, but to just feel the pain of the man sitting next to us, instead of viewing it as a mere fact. Perhaps, making the social become personal sometimes can go a long way and bring a smile to someone’s face. If not in any other way, it does help to bring a smile on your own face. And that makes a world of a difference.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Let go

I really wonder how
I really wonder why
The world within collapses
When the world out there lets go

Its wonderful to be free
To let go
And to let be
Why then does the heart hold on
While the head goes on an advising spree

Acceptance doesn’t come easily.
I wish I could
Move on and move ahead;
Ahead of the world
Ahead of the rest.

I want to give up
I want to give in
I know not how to,
I know not why I must.

I just know I have to
I have to let go
I have to let be
I have to be what I don’t want to be.

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Words for Women to Live By :)

1. Aspire to be Barbie - the bitch has everything.

2. If the shoe fits - buy them in every color.

3. Take life with a pinch of salt... A wedge of lime, and a shot of tequila.

4. In need of a support group? - Cocktail hour with the girls!

5. Go on the 30 day diet. (I'm on it and so far I've lost 15 days).

6. When life gets you down - just put on your big girl panties and deal with it.

7. Let your greatest fear be that there is no PMS and this is just your personality.

8. I know I'm in my own little world, but it's ok. They know me here.

9. Lead me not into temptation, I can find it myself.

10. Don't get your knickers in a knot; it solves nothing and makes you walk funny.

11. When life gives you lemons in 2010 - turn it into lemonade then mix it with vodka.

12. Remember where ever there is a good looking; sweet, single or married man there is some woman tired of his bullshit!

13. Keep your chin up, only the first 40 years of parenthood are the hardest.

14. If it has Tires or Testicles it's gonna give you trouble.

15. By the time a women realizes her mother was right, she has a daughter who thinks she's wrong.

'Good friends are like stars.........You don't always see them, but you know they are always there' 'Remember yesterday, dream about tomorrow, but live for today'.

Thursday, January 14, 2010


I sinned today. I fagged. Did I feel guilty? I don’t know. I was just numb with the pain that preceded the longing. That probably sounds escapist. I admit that before I took the plunge (as dramatic as it sounds), I did imagine my mom’s expression when she would know her daughter fags, at least ten times. But today was it. I had decided. I had to do it. I was searching for my friend, who had dissuaded me several times from doing it, in the past. Where was he? Damn! He was busy in a meeting. Ok, I caught this other chick who had just joined the organization. She was fun, another one like me, in the same plight too. We went to the hangout, the terrace. I only intended to ask her which one I should buy, since it was my first and she was quite experienced. So she told me since it was my first, I should take what she had with her at that time, something light, a Marlboro. Ok, I agreed. And together we went to the terrace. She kept telling me shes guilty. Shes sweet. I told her its ok. Its totally my call.

And then I did it. How did it feel? I didn’t feel anything at all. I asked her whether I was so numb with the mental pain and anguish that I cant even feel the cigarette in my mouth??? And she told me the art of doing it the right way. I still didn’t inhale it deep. It was just an experience. No effect. No lightness that I was hoping for. And we went back.

Just as we reached, I found my friend waiting around. And I took him and another friend as they too were going out for a smoke. He was my trusted friend. So I told him I want to “feel” it and feel light. And he tried his best to dissuade me in his usual “smart with words” way. I didn’t give up. I don’t know why I was so stubborn today. I took one, and had more or less the same experience as the last. Except that I felt it touching my insides a bit, so I coughed a bit. That was about it.
It didn’t feel any different. Perhaps I didn’t do it the right way. The only difference was I wasn’t allergic to the smoke any more. And I was rid of the bias in my mind. Cuz I knew what it feels like to be on the other side.

Yet another experiment with my life, with my body this time. And yes, I am not thinking any more. So no more conscience pricking. I wont do it if I don’t feel like it. A lot of sermonizing happened in my mind afterwards. About all my ideals, my parents and their reactions, when I imagined it all, most of all the oral cancer and lung cancer dialogue that my friends had just tried.

But at the end of the day I told myself—I know I have sinned. Its totally my call.


It aint no fun being a girl with no shield around you. I realized this sad truth and let this painful vulnerability hide under the various layers that I drew upon myself over the years. At every moment if there was anything that I guarded the most, it was my strength. I couldn’t let it waver—that inner strength that I was introduced to, in me, three years ago in the most tumultuous phase of my life till then. I had never seen myself through those eyes till then. And when I finally did, I realized what I am really worth. And who I wanted to be worthy of.

And here I am now. How am I feeling? Wretched, unhappy, disillusioned, humiliated, uncared for, unloved, taken for granted, miserable, useless, wasted, hopeless, shattered, worn out, crushed, devastated, depressed, pathetic, suicidal, disillusioned, mutilated, murdered…

Do I want to avenge the pain? No. I just want it to pass.