A journey from dangerously close to not even remotely close

We all are so bizarre! We make connections all around. Those who are with us every day, those we speak to every now and then, with those we’ve just met once or twice, with friends of friends, with those whom we adore from a distance, and may or may not gather the courage to connect, with those we randomly meet somewhere unexpected, those we work with, with those who work for us and who not. Our little hearts let them enter our world even if it is for a while or even  a tiny moment but it doesn’t mean that we are close to them all. In fact we get close to only 1% of these innumerous connections we make. We meet, we connect, and then we’re close. Now what?  Sometimes things lead us to endings we never imagined or ever dreamt about and there we are, dealing with rocky relationships..

Ideally, we all should get closer, should enjoy together whenever we meet, talk or spend time together but we end up doing quite the opposite. We slip in the coma of taking out faults in our close ones, we start taking them for granted, neglect them. The urge to blame grows so much that we almost can’t bear the ones whom we once tagged as the closest ones! We start judging like we are a microscope reading the bacteria under our lens. It becomes a cruel battle of emotional rage. Guess this is what they tag as the curse of overindulgence. Thinking about this always reminds me of the song “Hazar rahein” by kishore my favorite lines being

Tumhe ye zid thi ke hum bulate
Humein ye ummid vo pukarein

As much as we ever claimed to be close,ego DOES get in the way to end it all and mostly none of us have the courage to fight it…

Hearts go harder

Thinking goes fainter

Tongues go harsher

Guess by the end of it, it’s the “what ifs” that hurt you the most…

Life n its colors...

A lot of things go unquestioned

A lot of questions go unanswered

Few words go unsaid

Few thoughts go unread

Some dreams are buried alive

Some hopes do not take ride

Several things shook you

Several incidences break you

Moving on is the hardest thing to do

And clinging on never lets you get through

There are mistakes there are regrets

Learning from them is the safest bet

Life is it..

Full of colors..

Bright dull pale and null

Dark deep shallow and full…

She was...

She was as lonely as a fish in a water jar,

As quaint as a lullaby from a guitar

Oh she was indeed in a world full of relations,

But it more or less seemed like a strange nation

She always wanted to sway away in fine mood,

Never wanted to keep aloof and be rude

She convinced herself that she was happy for a while,

Till her heart gave up to be senile

She immersed herself in things,

Whenever she was at an emotional brink

She tried nursing herself out of emotional lows,

For she felt alone and odd one out in millions of perfectly symmetric and mingled rows

She would be the child and she only would be the mother,

For she was at a depressing peak where she could trust no other

She became her own joy, heart and soul

And was her own pain, her stress and the hurt

For she knew that for a long time, she would not trust anyone like she did herself

For she knew that she had no choice, but to become her own comforting voice…

A city that never sleeps and never lets you sleep…

A city of fighters.. a city of dreamers ..

A city of strugglers.. a city of screamers ..

Aamchi Mumbai, as we localites call it with sheer adoration, for it has given us all, a lot, things which we never dreamt could happen, but they did, here, at this very place.

Ask me and I would say, it’s a weird city is more like a country in itself, with innumerous tiny states within,collectively called “Mumbai”. Life is no life here. Living here is a constant fight between conscience, dreams and reality. It’s not really a city. It’s an epidemic that spreads to everyone in the vicinity.  

Everyone, be it a fresher looking for a job, a newcomer in the corporate world struggling to survive the expenses, newlyweds working hard to make their house a home, a housewife struggling to get her husband’s time, parents to be saving each and every penny to give the most comfortable world to their kids, kids and students surviving the locals and tough competition from in-numerous ones better than them, stop. They stop every time they lose themselves in this constant fight with life to analyze. To analyze where did “they” get lost? Where did their individualism vanish? Did the sea gulp it or was it the millions and trillions of people who absorbed it from them? 

As an alien to the Mumbai land, I always wanted to stay in this outrageous place, feel it for myself, enjoy it since I thought that life would be nothing less than an adventure park here. After some six months of staying here, I realized that the city is not there to entertain us or take us through a roller coaster voyage. For just in six months, I’ve suffered loss, more than any earnings.

It’s a place that really washes away the past, for you have no time to look back. A place which makes you let go all the courtesy lessons you have ever received from your elders for ever minute is a constant struggle to outgo somebody, push through the people in locals, fight through the distances to reach office, fight through the expenses to live a good life, fight through the time to have some ample time with the loved ones. It’s a place that makes you a hard nut from a soft marshmallow, a place that shook’s up the foundation of your past, tremors your present and challenges your future. 

Everyone here has tried to race time only to get engulfed by it. Each one next to you is a challenge. You lose your loved ones to this city, your outlook to it, your individuality to it, the simplicity of joy to it and hence you end up losing your own self. 

People say that they get so much from the city, but I admit that I seem to be losing it all, in a matter of days that is. I just have memories to comfort me. But I want to fight this epidemic, for I want to see what I’d get back from it…

P.S.- I do not deny that the inspiration to write this post was Dhobi Ghat but i sincerely did not copy :P

To one, to all :)

Hugs are probably the deepest and the warmest form of intimacy one can have. A hug to an achiever, to a mourner, to a best friend, to a lover, to a looser, to a kid, to an oldie, to your bestie, to a birthday boy, to a fresh mother, to a newlywed, to a grieving widow, to welcome, to say bye and what not. Who doesn’t like it? I mean yes I can come up with "n" number of people who’d tell me that they hate it, but I really doubt it.

A hug can mean so many things. “I am always there for you”, “I got it from here buddy”, “ I love you like no other can”, “I will help you come out of it”, “you are great”, “all the best”, “sorry”, “hey long time I missed you”, “please save me the horror of saying out loud that I love you a lot, give me a hug instead “, “sorry for this fight and innumerous ones after this one ;)” and way more...

I mean sometimes the mere use of words feels to be so lame when you can communicate with your gestures. Like everyone, even I have my hug moments. Moments I can never forget, moments that fill me with nostalgia and a love so sincere that cannot be described. As some wise person had once put it, sometimes, a hug is all we need! 

A hug by an elder with their hands perfectly circling you, making you feel protected, a hug by a child to his mom with his small arms not even able to reach her implying that his small arm size or for that matter nothing can stop him from loving her, a hug can define the most special moments of a person’s life.
 

I love it. So much so, that whenever I am low, I think of my most memorable hug moments and it sure shot helps, much more effective than any other drug in the whole world.

And hey it is just not me. There was a social campaign called the “free hugs campaign” which was hugging random street people which rather became huge by an Australian Juan Mann. Must read about it at“freehugscampaign.org” and people in our aamchi Mumbai also took the initiative to do it here :) hence i wanted to share these two videos..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vr3x_RRJdd4&feature=player_embedded

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jMl6EEwfm2M

I really cried out of the genuiness of the videos

Kudos Juan Mann

You see ..

When zindagi is khappi

The most effective is just one jaadu ki jhappi ;)

Is this real or reel?

SUCH a small life..

SO many disappointments

SO many frustrations

SO less appreciation to happiness

SUCH a small life..

SO less love

SO many claims

SUCH bad judgment to genuinity

SUCH a small life..

SO many hopes

SO many desires

SUCH few steps to execution

SUCH a small life..

SO many setbacks

SO many misfortunes

SUCH LESS admiration to opportunities

SUCH a small life..

SUCH limited close ones

SO many petty issues

SO MUCH ego

Wonder if we’re really designed like this or is it just our current status..

T. Diaries..

Our unpredictable life has so much in store, so much that we don’t know,that we wish to know way before life unfolds. Our journey through this sometimes fine or sometimes coarse life is rather interesting. For it’s not just us who makes our way through this journey but also our life itself which helps us find our way further.

My life till date has been extraordinary, mostly to me though! I get to be the star of my life, the villain, the side actor and what not in the diary of my life. While I try and be the script writer to the story of my life, life propels me with its own surprises!

In my 21 years of life, just when I decided something for myself and thought that it was to happen for sure, life served me something completely different in its platter, sometimes sweet sometimes sour!

When I took up Physics, chemistry, mathematics after my 10^th I thought to myself, oh wow, I will be an engineer like my dad. Who knew that I will end up in design?

Just when I finished my 12^th and gave my competitive exam, I assumed by myself that I am going to end up in a college somewhere nearby my hometown and I am going to get settled there somewhere, who knew that I would end up in a place as monstrous as Mumbai.

Who knew I would end up in a college very different from my people and become the way I am now?

What if at that very moment I did not speak to that xyz person and made friends with them would I still have them all in my life?

The deal is, that’s the beauty of my life. That’s why I consider it extraordinary. Just when I decided or predicted things for myself, I was sure were going to happen, I was surprised by life.

What if I seriously took up engineering, I’d probably be going to a job daily only to curse myself and keep figuring out continuously in my head as to why I chose it.

What if I was still in north in a much smaller college than I went to, I would have never felt the joy when my first fashion show happened with literal celebrities walking in my clothes or never felt an extraordinary urge to shout my lungs out and to tell the world that I am a graduate and was really proud of myself when I got my degree during my convocation.

This is why I call my life extraordinary. When I asked for nothing, it gave me nothing multiplied by happiness to the power infinity ;), when I was out of my way, taking life for granted, it gave me a reminder that hey this is not how it should be. And that’s why I call my life, extraordinary, in a way nobody can understand or I can make them understand…

and she really lived by her pen...

“I will live by my pen” she would say and the world would laugh her off. These were the words of a very well know romantic fiction novelist, Jane Austen.

Jane Austen, an English lady was born to a humble family in a time known as the “regency period” must have been a real sturdy willed lady. To tell you all why, it’s because this “regency period” referring to the era between the late 70’s and early 80’s (or the times before or afterwards for that matter) were not very “women friendly”. The attires, the fashions, the sports, the interiors etc were not the only things intricate then. This web of intricacy was spread to the atticates, talking, walking , curtsying and a lot more.

Women were like a showcase back then. They were a status symbol, they were the assets exhibited in parties, social gatherings and leisure activities by their spouses. They were devoid of smallest of rights like earning for themselves, inheriting wealth (not even their husband’s). Marriage was the only means for them to have a secure and comfortable future and yes, marrying the one they liked was hardly a possibility. Their job was just to sit around, take care of the house, the kids, and get elaborately and marvelously ready for social appearances not to make them, but to make their husbands noticed in the society. The class segregation was rather lucid. The rich condemned the poor. The hierarchy decided the ranks and the class and nobody could question it.

But this is just a brief history of what happened then. Now this lady “Miss Jane Austen” I mentioned above belonged to that time, with each one opposing her dream to earn through her work. Smitten by love, constrained by responsibilities, obligated by the society she worked her way through all of that and became not just a writer, but earned her living through it. Now my facts might not be all that accurate but this post is just to give a tribute to a lady such strong who with just six novels got so celebrated that after almost two centuries, she is still a known name and curtsy to many more after her who through the extreme of difficulties and social policies made their own name.

Women, the rise of an evil bitching queens**muhahahahha**

After millions and thousands of years of men pulling our legs and blaming us for gossiping/bitching with/for other women and after billions and lakhs of women denying it and taking offense at it, I personally agree that we women gossip and hence end up bitching.

Oh we are REAL CATTY SOMETIMES!:P

Let’s do a case study of some of my personal bitching feats, say the time I started school (of course not denying the numerous stories before the beginning of school which are unluckily forgotten)..

So right from the beginning of my pre primary, I was exposed to the brutal bitching nature of women.

My first friend circle (a triangle actually) was two friends and me and how much did we fight to sit in a pair and make sure that none of us was left out with a kid from a “non friend” category! One day of that “non friendly” company would make us bitch and gossip about the other two in front of our moms in the afternoon, then our gali ( kids staying in the same lane as ours) friends in the evening and then dads at night!

Later our gossip region grew to ranks, marks, teacher favoritisms, preference to the teachers daughter (BITCH! K), who has a crush on whom, who is going around with whom etc in school!

Then came college and hence a lot of competition and unluckily a building and a class filled with “only” women (for me).

Do I need to write about my college? M sure both men and women can guess what I am trying to imply here!

Then came internships n office, and TRUST ME, as much as I told myself each time to not get into the office politics, I ended up being a part of it on the first day itself!

**P.S- My dad’s first advice when I joined office was to keep away from the gossips instead of blowing my tittle-tattle trumpets!**

AND..the saga continues…

You see it’s not me,it’s JUST NOT my fault. It’s the woman in me hence whenever I try to be sane, the woman in me takes over and rules :p

Anyways the deal is, that I’ve very well realized that I or any other woman (moms,grandmoms,maids,cooks,neighbours,friends,close friends,very close friends :p etc etc) for that matter cannot avoid it even if we try!

So yes! This is the true story of how we cute little baby girls rise to be the most perfect and the bitchiest gossip queens! :D

Love was not enough...

Every dawn

I look for u and find u gone

I realize love was not enough...

Whenever I am in the bluest of blues

Whenever I am thinking about you

I realize love was not enough...

Whenever there’s something new n I can only tell few

I think of you

And realize love was not enough...

Every time I was hurt, every time I cried

I worked harder and I tried

But I realized that

Love was not enough...

Seconds, minutes, nights and days went by

When I watched us die

And I realized

Love was not enough...

I made u a part of me

And then I only had to set u free

Because now i knew

Love was not enough...

Love it was, the purest of pure

But like everything else, even this relationship wanted more

Love was just not enough…