Phoenix

I feared loss
I feared hate
I feared laughter
I feared seeing the twinkle in my eye
I feared failure
I feared the spot light

I still am afraid
I feared till I burst into flames

In the aftermath
Among the ashes
I found my high

I learned to let go
I learned to love
I learned to laugh
I learned to step over my failure
I learned to be the spot light

I still am afraid

I let it consume me
Till I burst into flames

But then again
I learned that to overwhelm-burst into flames and rise up
Is what I’ll have to do
Till the day I do, what has been willed of me

I still am afraid
I fear till I burst into flames

… “It’s best to have failure happen early in life. It wakes up the Phoenix bird in you so you rise from the ashes.”
– ANNE BAXTER

The Parallel Universes

When you think about ‘The Parallel Universes’, there are too many things that cross our thoughts, and most of them must be about the supermassive black hole, multiuniverses, string theory and the list goes on. To be honest I don’t sit and ponder on quantum physics nor am I a huge fan of the hitchhikers guide to the galaxy (but the idea about a ‘Towel’ is the most mind boggling thing I have ever read)

My thoughts on ‘The Parallel Universes’ are slightly closer to how Heenashree Khandelwal writes in ‘Soul mate by chance’ -“Imagination is the parallel universe of a writer. If he is not responding to you in this world, he is probably responding to someone in the imaginary world.”

Is it a feeling like going through a vortex leading us into the other life that we lead or is it a time capsule that we hop onto to land in a whole different era. I think we might just be going through both, in reality and in our imagination.

The Vortex- Its like shuttling to our workplace or going home for a vacation or even a runaway trip to the mountains that we all take once a year. The common factor in all this is that we have a set routine for ourselves to make things easier, unknowingly we all have planned out. We change ourselves to what suits that surrounding and carefully choose our story on what to say or what not to say about this whole other life we are leading. In some way we are all accountable for these lives we live, to ourselves and to others.

The Time machine- I once had to sit through for a dinner meeting in a very fine restaurant. I didn’t concentrate much on the food but at the end they served this banana soufflé for dessert. The moment I had a spoon of it, I went back in time, to that small girl who used to run into the store after school to pick up that banana popsicle and suck it to finish it off before I reached the front door of my house. I felt all my senses back there in that time, I felt like that eleven year old whose major treat for that day was the banana popsicle. I savoured those five minutes that took me back in time, small pleasures in life!

The other life- For sure there must be different answers and opinions to why we this happens to become a way of life for us, here goes mine- it’s one life that we live for others and the other which we live for ourselves, cause yes we humans love ourselves too much. This lifelong search for love for oneself and happiness has led us to create a different plane of existence. Believe it or not these two different worlds that we create is real. We breathe, eat, sleep and have different priorities for each day. We even selectively choose whom to interact with and whom to cut of that list in our social circles. And to add, I think we all try to strike a balance in these lives we live. These worlds that we have created in this universe of ours, we go through it back and fro to create this balance. This is how we pick up ourselves and learn how to lead a more sustainable life.

I am sure those who don’t have a place to run away to, imagines up their universe, the one they could’ve been or will possibly be living in, if you ask me where? Go to a school and look at those kids in a classroom. Look at that one slumped in his chair elbows on the desk pressing his chin into the most comfortable cushion of his palm, the tilted head. Have you wondered if it isn’t his ADD and may be he isn’t daydreaming, he is in the process of building his own world where he will want to live in. There will always be that vortex that he will cross every now and then to bring a balance to his life. Cause happiness is not the only thing people seek in their lives.

#life

The good bit

The good bitShe woke up to the birds chirping, rubbing her eyes slowly, and stopping for a minute. She had that surprised big eyed stare on her face, that sudden moment of realization. She knew she had to do something about it; otherwise her brains would explode into pieces.  She jumped out of  bed , ran to the other room , threw everything out of her bag , scrambled through her things, her eye lit up when she found it. The treasure hunt was over, but now her head was screaming out, “Write it down!”

She took her pen and a bunch of papers and headed out through the doorway, found a spot, pulled the chair aside and slumped down into it. For a minute she just sat there looking at the paper and then the sun. Tracing her lips with her index finger, she felt how chapped it is.

She snapped back, and sat there and penned it all down…

The mobile fell onto the bed, felt like I hit rock bottom, questioning my -self worth was something I never thought I would be doing. The feeling of every nerve in the brain going numb, It was all slowly painfully shutting down, like an end scene to a movie when the screen goes blank . It took him to say those words for me to realize that I was the crazy one there. The high pitched tone still rings in my head, “OH MY GOD! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!?”

Leaving the phone on, forgetting to recognize he had already cut the call. He had said one day “We are meant for each other but not meant to be together”. Yes, he was gone and this time it was my turn to play my game right, my turn to get up and leave because nobody was sitting at the other end of the table. So what changed, what was my keepsake? Like what a dream catcher would do, I filtered it all, through the spiders web, all the bad ones stuck there and all the good ones trickling down through the soft feathers into my fabricated world. The good bit was taken and that has made the all the difference.

‘The good bit’

________________________________________________________________________________________________When people asked me, they always had that surprised look. They asked, “How did it happen?” I always thought that I should have a make believe story because the reality would be less dramatic for people, but this was way too special for me and the problem – I did not have a story …an exaggerated one… no theatrical setting.  I ponder from time to time on how it would have been if we ever met again. Maybe one day I will, I want to believe so I will. It would bring back a storm. Knocking down my fabricated world, would it paralyze me? Those scenarios, I have played them all in my head. I remember that day, I smile every time I think of it. He remembered it better because that’s how he would always remember me. He told me “you had something dark about you that made me fall for you… Yes! It’s those eyes. The smudged dark black kohl…” For me I was too proud to tell him. It’s when we took that walk on the road that day. I looked up at you and I Knew it. I skipped a beat. I wanted to rationalize my thoughts. I told myself it’s not right. You were the fool’s paradise I entered into. _________________________________________________________________________________________________

She snapped out of it, took the paper tore them into tiny bits. Stood up stretching herself walked towards the well, dropped them. Watched till it settled down, trying to stay afloat and then drowned away. Feeling a sense of relief, sniffing the breakfast cooking up inside. This time she walked in through that doorway, all she thought about was how many minutes she should spend in brushing her teeth. Tilting her head, fixed on that thought and humming that favorite tune in her head ,she knew, she was walking into another phase of life making her next story.

I did not change in one day …

No, I did not change in one day. I changed over time. And in that time period some people were part of it, some were the cause and effects of it, some provided that push and some walked along the path. But I know I’m changing each day. It’s like an incremental change.

So here I go on to blabber more on how change can never stop. I cannot believe in fresh starts. If you ask me why its cause I love what that change brings into my life. I know I can face my contingencies with a smirk on my face.

Most of us know the outcome to changing is the upward moving learning curve. I agree some stones can be slippery and we would slip and hit rock bottom but that is when something happens, form there you evolve. You pat yourself and get up make those small tweaks then just walk ahead not walk away. We are like butterflies with many lives. Soo beautiful, always fluttering around finding new things discovering, empowering ourselves each day.

It’s my point of view; I would rather be ever changing than live a corpse. I think its new revolutionary thought but simple addition to common sense to some people who say “owhh! Look she changed, how can she… she was  a ….”Yes, you are all free beings  to judge, but I’m just putting my point out there, into the universe… Let people change if not what is there to life.

Defining love

I remember running upto him with my “tinkle digest” in my hand , jumping onto his lap and  resting my head on his chest … listening to the rhythm of his heavy breathing. He would slowly take the book form my hand and ask me in his husky voice “So well!! What have you got there today?” This was our secret ritual every day. Days never went by without me running upto him after lunch and poke him till he reads me a story. Even if he didn’t read me one he would take me through his imaginary world. And in this world everything seemed so perfect. He would talk about heaven one day and then the next he might go on to talk about the war scenes during his childhood. How he had seen Gandhi once and many other prominent people. How he walked the streets and climbed the trees. How couldn’t someone fall in love with him? I know now that it was just to see me smile to hear my giggles. My ‘appacha’ was one such man. If someone ever asked me the definition of love, I would ask them hop on into my shoes to experience what I did all those years with him. It’s a feeling not fleeting… not momentary, a something that happens inside of you and you just know it’s there and it’s there to stay.

I always asked myself “Did I ever know love?” going back to that 9 year old me I would comfort myself, knowing that he didn’t leave us forever. He is watching over me from up there, smiling at me. Helping me search for that same feeling that I felt sitting on his lap…listening to his heart beat.

Remembering you always with love…

A broken puzzle.

A broken puzzle.

She stood there by the balcony looking far into the start skies. Tears rolling down her cheeks.Her hands wrapped around her warming herself against the cold draft. “it’s not the end of the world” shilpa had told her before they left. Those word’s kept ringing in her head. Conflicting statements ,rewinding and playing again and again in her head like a taperecorder gone wrong. For the first time she knew the pain of loosing someone. Her head went
numb.All she knew was that she was in pain.
And if she never got out of this she would never live to see another day. Everybody told her “you’re strong!you will get through this” . Reminding herself how string she wasn’t ,how fragile she was ,how aimless life had become. Her body dropped down on the cold tile ,she held her knee tight and cried. All she asked herself is “how did I get here?where did I go wrong ?why me ?”
She cried out loud inside ,nobody
heard,till her wrist bled out…

The beach ….

The beach ….

Standing at the beach, watching the tide wash in on my feet, I take a deep breath in and push it out .I felt like I was inhaling the soul of the beach …‘it feels like heaven’. I felt like a child once again, drawing circles on the sand and looking at  it  being washed away, having a conversation; I could hear them ,those silent whispers looking away again into the far blue sea.Trying to divert my thoughts I started counting the tiny and large waves coming in.
The waves pulled up to the shore each time stronger and fiercer than the previous one. Trying to draw my letter on that white sand again and again, all in vain, later finding it being washed away. Sara waved at me from the sea, she yelled out and gestured with a smile beaming on her face, “Take picture!! Take picture!!” mischief and innocence ,I thought, the two things we should never be robbed off .It helps us to know that we are here to learn, like they say you should
learn from your mistakes and not build on them …not to forget to live life while on the path striving for perfection.

I was lost deep in my thoughts, I forgot that she was again yelling in the background jumping at the incoming waves asking me to click a picture. Suddenly, it struck me that I had slipped my cell into my pocket and the waves had washed up my trousers. I had tried to fold it so as to not get it wet but the waves grew larger by the passing of time and it
seemed useless. I took my cell switched to the screen tapped on the camera and clicked few random pictures of her.

Lovi was standing far away from the waves. She had a little frown on her face .Oh my! The wrinkles of worry on her forehead .She was shouting out to Sara not to go out into the water too far .She feared water not because she was phobic but she felt the need to believe in the bad demons in the sea that could swallow you into it in seconds .She turned to
look at me and I smiled back. I walked upto her, she pulled out my pack handing It over to me. I pulled one stick out, lit it with a match stick, it felt just right. Standing there looking into the deep blue sea washing up on the shore wanted to engrave this moment in my mental album, this was just worth the whole travel I thought to myself.

As the waves grew bigger I found myself looking closely at the fisher men trying to get the boat into the sea so as the spread the
net out in the water. It didn’t look easy at all. But they did their job so close and fast and got back to the shore. I took the last drag of my cigarette; we were running out of time .We had to reach back pack up for the return. I discarded it into the waves that washed up my feet, once more, leaving a smile in the air.

Sara came running back and she quickly started the bike and I hopped onto the back .I turned back and gave a one last glance, now that! Was my picture .A
memory I will never want to forget. I tried to stop myself from thinking so much and joined Sara in singing along with her rhythm .Speeding off back into real life.

If You Haven’t Worked a Day in Your Life, You Probably Don’t Love Anything

Must read !! 🙂

The Indisputable Dirt

You’ve heard it before, the beloved aphorism from the ever-intriguing Confucius;

“Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life.”

choose_a_job_you_love_and_you_will_never_have_to_work_a_day_in_your_life

I’ve also heard it attributed to Albert Einstein, but the internet tells me that Confucius coined it, so we’ll go with that. Regardless, you’ve probably seen it in the form of a meme, pinned a thousand times on Pinterest, shared on Facebook, tweeted on twitter, etc…

Confucius2

 ^stuff like this^

I understand why the quote is so popular. There is something inspiring, something hopeful about it. It is just poetic enough to sound reasonable, just vague enough to withstand any serious scrutiny.

The only problem, of course, is that it is almost entirely false.

If the phrase was not so oft-quoted, if I did not think it influenced people’s decisions, I wouldn’t be writing this post. But from where I stand, this…

View original post 1,026 more words