A Little Pensive...

There are days, rather moments when we suddenly become aware of the life, of our flesh, of the heavy air around us. Some of us might be weighed down and a few blessed others may raise their heads to the skies and take it all in proudly. I have always felt these moments to be milestones set by something deep within us to make us aware if we are in the right direction. Its really simple if you can raise your heads to the skies you are on the right path but if you are weighed down you need to switch lanes.

I believe we live in an illusion where we waste tears on the bygones and waste our worries on yet-to-comes. We are trapped in this web of days we will never see again and the days that might not see us. When you really think about it, the thought sends shivers down your spine. And it is understood no one wants a date with the Grim Reaper. I guess i am a little pensive because i am nearing into my life more than ever. I like to write life and not death because what is death but an absence of life.

When i was a kid a mere ten year old, a free spirit, i remember we were taught to dream, to stretch out our wings and fly away. I remember that graphically well because there is a picture of me standing with the school choir and singing “Breakaway” by Kelly Clarkson. I knew the song by heart then and i still do even though it has been ten years since then. But somewhere along the way the wings got heavy and flying away started seeming like a foolish thing to do. It was not that easy, NO! It took mighty ten years of learning to dream the right dream, to trust something other than my inner voice, to lose present to unseeable., to worry about blots on the pages I had already written

But last few have days have given me so many moments of those bare encounters with that feeling of my presence that i am not able to shake it off. It is haunting that little corner in my head that holds the memory of “I want to be” session in the kindergarten. I remember my answer was being a “water walker”, not sure what I meant exactly, but i also remember everyone applauded me. It seems utterly ridiculous to me that a bunch of five year olds had more courage than most of us today. Maybe that is exactly the reason to dust off the cobwebs off your wings and stretch them out, then probably take a leap of faith.

The Wedding Tamasha!

The shine and shimmer of lehengas, the fragrance of beautifully drawn peacocks by mehandi, the blissful dancing in front of the ghodi, sizzling food, the celebrations and rituals, all served on the same day. Don’t you just love Indian weddings? Families coming together, sleepless nights spent away in happy chattering, pains to look your best in the crowd of a thousand people, trying to recognize long forgotten relatives and friends, it indeed is an adventure! An Indian wedding is a cultural retreat. It has everything that makes the culture special and unique. The colors, huge families, spicy food, dhols, rituals and the list goes on. But there’s one reason due to which it really is special. And that reason is the mystery associated with it.

To understand the mystery I will go through the process of the Wedding Tamasha. You think it starts with when you turn 25? No you are wrong! In fact it starts with the moment you are born. The moment your parents see you for the first time, they start building up a dream wedding for you in their minds and hence the savings start, even more so rigorously if you are a girl. Now the journey has started, with your parents right behind you “protecting” you from the opposite sex so that it does not bring “disgrace” to the family. Years go by as you are molded to be the perfect candidate for a marriage. And when you turn “the marriageable age” your education, family background and assets are measured, a price tag is put on you and you are sent up on a pedestal to be “auctioned” off to the highest bidder. If by God’s grace a deal is struck, you can start getting to know your fiance. And love? Well that can wait till after the wedding, after all you have entire life ahead of you for that!

Coming primarily to marriage, defying all the technical definitions Google has provided I believe that marriage is a holy union of two souls. As a living being we have been bestowed with a beating heart that is answering to the rhythms of someone’s breaths. If you find this, you might have found love. I know the idea is highly romanticized but think about it! If two people could spend a lifetime together by a mere deal why would there be any kind of love in the world? The word “love” might sound a little overrated but that’s how God intended universe to be. Every relationship could be on paper, relationship between you and your parents, friends. Who is to say what amount of money can buy your kids a good relationship, a happy marriage. For love can be realized, felt but never learnt or faked.

I hate the Wedding Tamasha because the path it takes is disgraceful. I despise the sales, the price tags, markets and an attempt at bargaining. I hate the stereotypes it drags with itself. I hate that the idea has been dramatized and glamorized to such an extent that it might have lost its meaning. I might me out on a limb here, but I stand by what I believe. The Tamasha has gone on for too long and it needs to stop.

Hope

Hope...Its such a beautiful word. It is the elixir of life. It keeps us going. We may give up on it every once in a while but we need to hold on to it no matter what.

I penned down these lines about this incredible feeling when I was fifteen. The words are not fancy but I still believe its the best verse i have ever come up with.

Hope

Sands may slip through our hands

But our footprints, it bears

Birds may just fly away

But their songs always chirps in our ears

Moon may for a night go into a hiding

But stars always twinkle our way

Snow may devour every bit of land

But eventually it too melts away

Clouds may burst and quieten

But their pearls still linger on our face

A flower may wither and die

But its fragrance hovers all over the place

Trees may shed their autumn leaves

But they make a way for all

Wind may just blow by

But it touches our soul

The road may come to an end

But you can always take a U-turn

It may be your hundredth mistake

But that’s how a man learns

A song may just end

But in your heart the rhythm goes on

The sun may sink down the horizon

But dusk is always followed by a dawn

Rainbow may vanish after sometime

But it fills the white patches all around

The clock may strike a twelve

But you will always have another round

A wave may just rise and fall

But you can always dive back into the water

Moments may fly by

But you can always freeze the picture

Joy may not spread its arms

But don’t let yourself drown in sorrow

Yesterday may seem a little a low

But you will always have a tomorrow

I 'Hope' each one of you holds on to yours forever....

Aloha Folks!

Folks! Aloha to all of you!  New to this site, new to this city and kind of new to the world (not in literal sense!) I will tell you something about me, it’s only fair since you will be the ones listening to me. I wouldn’t want to be a headless bunch of words to you now, would I?

I am the goofy girl you might have passed in the busy streets of Delhi, usually with a superhero shirt on. You might have looked at me, passed me and even talked to me but you might not remember for this world is huge. I am that quiet person who sits in the corner table sipping coffee after coffee doodling away on a piece of paper, reading a book with profound seriousness or reflecting on the world around me. I battle my continuous desire to own the world against the fulfilments of social duties and parent’s wishes. I am the person whose thoughts would fetch you millions of pennies and whose wishes would overflow every damn wishing well in the world.

I am the girl you would find fidgeting around with her jeans because the summer is tearing through my skin and I am missing my shorts having lost an argument to my mom about how to dress decently. I am the girl who questions the well-defined terms in nation like decency and culture. I don’t wait even a second to retort the aged harmless looking man who lays a hand on my ass as he passes me innocently. I am the girl who shouts till her throat is dry in protest for the justice for the poor victims of tyrannous rapes and I am the solemn face that shines in determination in the candle light as I march in peace for a great cause.

I am the girl who is in a constant fight with her parents for her rights. I am the girl who continuously resists cooking lessons from Bhatia aunty (who by the way is more than pleased to indulge) and ultimately gives in to her mother’s relentless attacks of “emotional attyachaar”. I am the girl who changes the names of all the guys in her contact list into easy to recognise girls’ names to avoid an interrogation with her parents. I am the person who is solely responsible for the carrying on of the family sanskaars while I watch my brother live a life.

 I am the girl who bullies her best friend into teaching her how to ride bike and then ends up landing him into trouble. I am the girl who likes to lay back in her penguin pyjamas watching reruns of friends with her best friend. I am the chic with pretty heels and the goofiest dance steps on the floor. If you see an amalgam of Gangnam style and Munni you will know it’s me.

I am the girl who gets angry by the state of people sleeping on the road. I am the person who takes liitle kids begging for an ice cream treat. I watch the shows and promise myself I will change the world. I think and I dare to dream. I am just like you, I am one of you. I am here and I am alive. Its hard but its fun. I am trying to lead a normal life in this utterly bizzare world. I am just not so normal!