"There seemed to him to be something tragic in a friendship so coloured by romance."

- Oscar Wilde, The Picture Of Dorian Gray

The Biology Of Love?

Very interesting video by Helen Fischer...

http://www.ted.com/talks/helen_fisher_tells_us_why_we_love_cheat.html

The seasons of my life

Winter greeted me as soon as I breathed my first
I cried my lungs out coz I missed being warm
In my ma's belly where I had stayed long
I was pushed out in the cold to say hello to the world.

Years went by and I met sweet spring
She was lovely, fresh, colorful and pleasing
I was besotted by her beauty and the promise of tomorrow
But she left me as quickly as she had found me.

Then I found love in summer
She was hot like the sun and mysterious like the sea
I learnt from her to love and to live
Amongst the sand-n-sun, I had found my summer to remember.

I am now one with the fall
Calm and quiet and introspective
Soon the winter will engulf me again
I will go to where I came from
But I  will carry with me memories of my seasons.

What are WE thinking? (About 'What Animals Think')

The TIME magazine (Aug 16, 2010 issue) recently published an article ('What Animals Think'), which talked about how 'studies' have 'now' shown that animals do have a conscience after all. All these studies (after all this time) are still not sure if smaller brained animals have a conscience (example, a spider they claim may just be breathing, reproducing, eating and surviving, without being much conscientious about its surrounding, as it has a small brain). But bigger animals might be smarter than we think.   

The article was no doubt in good taste. But it did not state anything we don't already know. Are there still people ignorant enough to believe that humans are the only ones with a conscience? (If you ask me, I'll say everything but humans have a conscience. Didn't we sell ours to the devil ages back?)

Spend ten minutes with a dog and you'll know he not only feels, he also understands you, much before you can fathom how he could possibly trust you so easily and completely. It really shouldn't take us 'studies' to prove animals think and feel too. That only goes to show our inefficiency in understanding the world around us. 

I am training to be a volunteer at an animal shelter near my town. I recently attended a 'cat orientation' where they taught us basic cat handling techniques. I have never interacted with a cat before and was a little skeptical if I will be able to do this. They introduced us to about 8-10 cats who were waiting to be adopted out of the shelter. Even though I'm a cat novice, it took me minutes to realize that each cat had a personality of its own. While one preferred being petted, another liked to be left alone. If some cats preferred being fed by you, others found a way to convey they were quite content with their morning feed; thank you. Some loved being stroked on their back, while others loved to play scratch. The only common trait was that they were all eager to accept you, and be accepted by you. Without intelligence and the ability to choose, how would each cat be so unique? 

I believe each living thing has intelligence. Perhaps the bigger-brained ones find a way to convey their personalities to us. How can survival instinct exist without a basic level of brain work? I have seen animals being capable of love, forgiveness, companionship, fear, grief, joy, anger, heck- even jealousy. 

To all those needing a study to prove animals can think, you're wasting time trying to prove the obvious.    

Music To The Ears

The one thing that impresses me the most is an artist/group of artists that consistently come up with excellent work. The world of music is especially interspersed with one-hit-wonders. But Coldplay has never disappointed me. Their melodies are simple, yet soulful. Do take a listen to this favorite of mine (amongst many others by them). I especially like this video too, just for its simplicity. Four men making good music in an empty hall. 
"How long must you wait for it? Please come back and sing to me"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yEoHFzEmld0
 

Longing

When was I free of your love?
That can never be...
You have bound me for life and beyond
I am forever a captive of your sweet memory.

You think I look to distance myself from you
But only just see, my love
It is this distance that will bring us closer
For when I long for you and you for me,
We will spend each moment in desire
And will live in the other's memory
Our union will thus be complete, for all eternity.

About a dream

Last night I dreamt a bizarre dream yet again. Most of my dreams (I’m sure like all others’) make no sense in structure. A lot of my dreams are linked to fear. Fear of falling, fear of not being prepared for an important exam, sometimes even fear of a tiger attacking me (sounds hilarious right now, but scares the **** out of me!)

Last night’s dream was similar and yet novel. I will narrate from the hazy details that I still remember. I was frantically searching for something, some place…I was kind of lost. I was by myself and though there were people around me (strangers), I did not ask anyone for help. I somehow managed to climb a long, mysterious and very inviting staircase, only to find myself standing on the final stair, and looking at an empty space before me. There were no walls on the sides to provide security and balance, only emptiness and me standing on a final stair. Before me was the deepest chasm the mind can imagine. I was at a dizzying height, just a step away from falling off into never-never-land.

I remember the feeling of vertigo very clearly. I remember feeling scared to death and immobilized. I felt that if I moved even an inch, I would lose balance and fall off. I closed my eyes in helplessness. It is usually at such moments that I wake up suddenly from sleep. But this time it was not to be. As I closed my eyes, a stranger (one of those people from the world back down) comes to my rescue. He picks me up in his arms and carries me to safety. (This may sound romantic and all, but that’s not how it really was in the dream). It was really about me being in trouble and someone saving me. This savior was unknown to me, and yet his presence was familiar. I remember feeling his presence even as I started taking the first step of that frightful staircase. He was standing there noticing me. I had paid him no heed. As eerily as it began, the dream ended as I was being brought down to safety.

Maybe this stranger knew what trouble was lurking ahead and was watching over me? Maybe he was trying to warn me and I did not understand him? Maybe he intentionally meant for me to take that staircase as he wanted me to learn a lesson? Maybe he was the inventor of this staircase?

I’d love to attach an interpretation to this dream. It would be very exciting and intriguing to do that. But it will not lead me anywhere. I will be left with a senseless dream and lots of open questions. I’d rather just treat this as what it is: a dream.

My song has put off her adornments. She has no pride of dress and decoration. Ornaments would mar our union; they would come between thee and me; their jingling would drown thy whispers.
My poet's vanity dies in shame before thy sight. O master poet, I have sat down at thy feet. Only let me make my life simple and straight, like a flute of reed for thee to fill with music.

- From Tagore's Gitanjali

I am only waiting for love to give myself up at last into his hands. That is why it is so late and why I have been guilty of such omissions.
They come with their laws and their codes to bind me fast; but I evade them ever, for I am only waiting for love to give myself up at last into his hands.
People blame me and call me heedless; I doubt not they are right in their blame.
Those who came to call me in vain have gone back in anger. I am only waiting for love to give myself up at last into his hands.

- From Tagore's Gitanjali

Tum mere paas hote ho goya, jab koi doosra nahin hota.

[You are close to me (as if), when noone else is]

- Momin

(It is said that Miza Ghalib, a contemporary of Momin, offered Momin his entire collection of poetry in exchange of being recognized as the author of this couplet)

Zindagi yun bhi guzar hi jaati
Kyun tera rehguzar yaad aaya...


- Ghalib

Tu nahin to ye bahaar kya bahaar hai
Gul nahin khile ke tera intezaar hai...

(Film:Madhumati, Song: Dil tadap tadap ke)

Quite Precariously So

Saw a squished raccoon, quite dead, at a 4-way stop sign while I was waiting for my turn to go. The poor guy was probably scooting around to look for his mid-day meal. Little did he know that some careless driver was also looking for his midday meal and wouldn’t care to wait.

Death is so random. So unforgiving. It either strikes you suddenly without a warning, or comes to you in little painful stages, making sure you feel its presence getting closer and closer. It either comes to you stealthily and attacks from behind your back, or comes to you looking straight in your eye, well announcing it’s oncoming.

Seems unfair, whichever way I see it. We scurry around day and night dealing with our petty existential issues. Every day is a struggle to make things better for ourselves and for those around us. We should be getting rewarded at the end of it all. Instead, we get either a wham-you-never-know-what-hit-you kinda end, or a painful tragic adios. We work so hard just to lose it all at the end.

Death in all its perverse uncertainty renders life precarious. We do our best to make things ‘stable’, but we forget that it is not in life’s nature to be so, because it is always being watched over by death. Even if our material existence seems close to perfect (which so rarely happens anyways), our true existence can never be stabilized.

Which makes me think, is all the struggle even worth it? It’s all gonna go, sooner or later. Why don’t I just take a breath right now while I still can breathe…

A Job Well Done

We all work hard, probably to the best of our abilities, at everything. But in every race, we are one in many, and it is very easy for our efforts to go unnoticed, unacknowledged, or even unappreciated.

It is way easier to get de-motivated in this race of life, than to stay motivated; especially when the results are barely obvious. At such times, when the zing is out, it’s miraculous how a few words of appreciation or just acknowledgement can bring a new life into whatever it is we have to achieve.

Even a ‘That was real good’, or ‘It’s nice of you to even have taken that up!’ can do wonders. Appreciating someone’s efforts is not about being a saint, it is more about being political and making sure the person stays motivated and keeps doing good in future. It’s about mastering the skill of making a few kind words go a really long way to your own advantage.

We can, and should, use the art of saying kudos in both our professional and personal lives. Ofcourse, appreciation has to be heartfelt, or it derides itself into flattery. It also has to be well-expressed, or it leaves the receiver confused about the motive.

Which brings me to the subject of appreciation at work (mostly a people manager’s domain, atleast in the environment where I work). Most of them are articulate and take a few moments out to genuinely convey the ‘You’re doing good and I thank you for your efforts’ message. But then there are others that absolutely suck at it. If you are just going to write/say a much delayed (and hence ill-timed) ‘That’s great’, you’d rather just skip the whole exercise.

Let me explain why I think these people suck at it. Either they are completely ignorant on the subject of human psychology (and hence fail to appreciate the value add a few extra minutes into an appreciation mail/discussion can bring), or they are really bad at expressing themselves.

Which brings me to yet another rambling. Although unrelated to ‘appreciation at work’, it still has a strong bearing on providing positive feedback in a more effective way. For the category that really sucks at providing effective appreciation, because they are really bad at expressing themselves, I can’t help but wonder (and I know this is devilish thinking, so forgive me Lord): Are these men as bland and ineffective at expressing themselves in bed? Aaarrgghhh! Scary thought.

Imagine one such manager’s wife/girlfriend doing a really good ‘job’ for him, and he summing up all her effort by a ‘That’s great’. Blah-Zey!! He can as well draw a curtain on any future hope of any job getting done thereon, let alone a good one!

If you show someone you believe in him, it gives him renewed energy to believe in himself, and then there is no mountain too high to climb. What’s more, it’s to everyone’s benefit; there are no losers in this game. The easiest way to lose the special people in your life and workforce is to not let them know that they are special, at the right time, in the right way.

Tell someone deserving today about how much you appreciate what they are doing for you. Let it be genuine and carefully expressed. Get creative if that works for you. It could even be a pat on your own back if you think you deserve it. If it does not give you positive results, you can blame me in the comments section! Good Luck.

Did I really write this?

It’s almost hilarious. I started out writing something for my blog. It was a virgin attempt, I was risking being arrogant and angry. At first I wanted to write ’10 things I hate about people’. Yes, it’s been a tough few days (or was it years?) and I had to vent it out.

But even I had not imagined I had so much to vent out! I just finished writing 3 pages of things that make me go ‘Ugghhh’. I try never to write negative, but this time I’m sure glad I did.

The only issue now is that I cannot possibly put the list on this blog. It’s too venomous and frank. For the first time there is an angry side of me reflecting in what I wrote. Even half-way through as I was writing it, I thought ‘This definitely cannot be put on the blog, maybe I’ll just forward it to close friends’. By the end of it, I had given up all hope of ever letting anyone read it.

Nevertheless, I feel a little lighter. Having a positive outlook to life is best for you, but sometimes just accepting how you feel is also important. For so long I have bottled it all up, now it’s finally on paper. The mean, nasty, authoritative, in-your-face side of me :) I almost feel like I have a whip in my hand right now! Face the wall, mean humans. Let me show you how angry you make me.

From Jane Austen's 'Persuasion'

Captain Wentworth to Anne Elliot:
"Fanny Harville was a very superior creature, and his attachment to her was indeed attachment. A man does not recover from such a devotion of the heart to such a woman. He ought not; he does not."

-------

When Anne meets Captain Wentworth after 8 years of separation:
They had no conversation together, no intercourse but what the commonest civility required. Once so much to each other! Now nothing! There could have been no two hearts so open, no tastes so similar, no feelings so in unison, no countenances so beloved. Now they were as strangers; nay, worse than strangers, for they could never become acquainted. It was a perpetual estrangement.


---------
 
Captain Harville to Anne:
"I will not allow it to be more man's nature than woman's to be inconstant and forget those they do love, or have loved."
 
Anne:
"All the privilege I claim for my own sex (it is not a very enviable one; you need not covet it), is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone."

-----------

Captain Wentworth in his final letter to Anne with his proposal:
I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in F. W.
I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never.

What Do Gods Talk About? (*)

(* Disclaimer – Although not my intention in the least, if this in any way offends your religious sensitivity, just ignore the article and read my next one instead.)

The characters:

Lord Shiva (aka Shiv)
Lord Hanuman (aka Hanu)
Lord Ganesha (aka Ganesh)
Lord Vishnu (aka Vish)
Allah
Jesus

The Scene:
Saturday evening, all the characters are assembled (as is custom) at a small bar to drink, chat and de-stress the week away. Drinks are flowing in generously, Vish taking the tab for the evening, and a few attractive apsaras are tending to the bar. The mood in general is jovial, light and relaxed. 

The Act:

Vish: So how was everyone’s week? 

(Everyone speaking together at once): “Bad, very bad”, “Busy!”, “Stressful, glad it’s a Saturday!” 

Finally Ganesh chips in: Humans run to us for everything! They can’t even deal with a nasal congestion, they call on to us. Why, I ask you, do we have to spoon-feed all these comforts? Can’t they just deal with their problems?

Hanu: And some of them don’t even have any problems! But somewhere in their concocted minds they fancy themselves sad, I tell ya! 

Allah: Yeah, we’re always having to tend to them. Can you believe some of my disciples actually dream about being gifted with a hundred virgins when they die? And why, may I ask? They do nothing substantial in their lives, not one of them. 

Jesus: And they are so silly in their faiths. I’ve heard they have specific days assigned to each Hindu deity. Shiv, is that true? 

Shiv: It’s almost like a joke on us. They have given me Monday. Monday, of all days! Mondays are so blue! I hated it when they gave me the Monday. I’m more of a Friday night kinda guy, you know, drinking, dancing and all…that’s more ‘me’. 

Hanu: Are they trying to suggest we get days off the rest of the week? Coz if that’s what they think, I need to let them know I work all 7 days of the week! Sometimes I take a few hours off and sneak away on a Thursday afternoon though….shhh…noone knows yet. 

Allah (checking his celestial blackberry): Did you hear the latest news? 200 people died today fighting over us. Don’t they know we are branches of the same tree?

Vish: They just don’t seem to get it. They figure out ways to get to the moon and setup civilizations up there, but they still don’t fathom the basic truth about us.

Jesus: They can fight all they want, but we are one team guys!

(All cheering and raising toast to this): “Yeah, Yeah, One Team! One Team!”

At that time an attractive apsara, Urvasi, arrives to re-fill everyone’s drinks. There is silence for a few moments as everyone is giving her ‘the look’. Obviously flattered, she tosses her flirtatious smile at each of them and coolly walks away.

Hanu: Siiiighhhhh………

Vish: Impressed? Wait till you see Rambha and Menaka.

Hanu: What’s the point? Those silly humans have deemed me as a lifelong brahmachari. Now every apsara thinks I won’t get serious with them, and stay away. Just my rotten luck….What’s more, the very devotees who call me brahmachari are happily married and enjoying bliss! The hypocrites…

Shiv: You should show them your pic where you’re carrying that huge mountain all by yourself. I think that kinda stuff impresses the women.

Ganesh: I have an even more serious problem, dude. Whenever I am close to getting lucky with some apsara, my snout comes in my way! Can’t even plant a kiss on her. Now what can be worse?

Jesus: Say, I really liked that Urvasi gal, she’s hot. 10 on 10 I say!

Vish: Don’t even get started man, she has the softies for Kris. Frankly, with that plain boring dressing sense of yours, you don’t stand a chance anyway.

(Readers may already be aware that ‘Kris’ is Lord Krishna, the ostentatious and flirty favorite of the gals.)

Allah: What is it about this Kris fellow? Every girl wants to be with him. How does he do it man?

Ganesh: Well, if only we knew. Even the Gods don’t know what a woman wants. Kris being the exception. I’m actually jealous!

Vish: How’s your married life, Shiv?

Shiv: Don’t ask, man…Ever since I cut off Ganesh’s head, my wife thinks I’m a total goof. She doesn’t trust me on anything! All the time watching over me….I mean, c’mon guys, it was a genuine mistake, could’ve happened with anybody. Does she have to nag about it everyday? She wants me to to go an anger management rehab now. Says I lose my temper very easily.

(Everyone mumbling together): “Awww…marriage is tough man…”,”Yeah, hang in there buddy…”,”You’re doing good…”

The evening continues in a similar rhythm amongst these disgruntled and stressed out deities….all united in the sorrows of their careers, love lives and marriages.  

Don't want to work today

I don't want to work today
Just want to lie down for a bit
Sip a coffee in my patio
Read comics all day under the sheets

I don't want to do the dishes
Just want to dream all day
Order in some Chinese food
Take the dog for a walk today

Dont' want to attend the dumb meetings
They seem incredibly useless to me
Why waste my time on them?
Would rather get a body massage instead

I don't want to clean the house
You mess it up the next day anyways
Don't want to reply to that 'important' email
Let me, but, call my dear ignored friend

I don't want to take care of bills today
Just want to go for a long swim
I want to make grand plans for life
Rather than always having to follow them

I should just leave from here today
Take a wild trip to the middle of nowhere
Or just sit by the sea and watch the waves
With no clock around, no end to the day

I know you will judge me now
Call me lazy, compare your day to mine
But hey, the day will take care of itself
I'd rather spend the devil doing nothing instead.

(Written on a work day, during work hours, in between production migrations and SDLC approvals.Working from home, just back from doing the dishes.Fantasy is a long way off from reality!)

Surprise Surprise!

Just when you thought it’s all finally over, that life is finally settling down, and you prepare yourself to heave that long-lost sigh of relief, WHAM!!Life hits you, yet again, with something you could never expect.

Isn’t it true, that every time you come up with your own glorious plans of how you intend to live the next 2 hours/20 days/2 months/2 years/20 years of your life, nothing ever goes as per plan? I think I might as well shove my plans into the closet and give up the thought that life will ever ‘settle down’. It is not in life’s nature to do that, and heck, I should’ve known that by now! When was the last time things went as per my plans? Everything that has happened to me has been erratic, unplanned, unexpected, unforeseen. And believe it or not, that makes me happy, coz although difficult, this is the best way there could have been.

Everytime I think I have finally got the upper hand, life surprises, challenges, intrigues me in its own unique and mysterious ways. We are indeed not masters of our fate, we are but meek followers of our destiny.

Perfectly Challenged

The human race is flawed. Each and every one of us. We are flawed in our basic ability to live and love. Call it whatever fancy words we want, we only use them to mask our imperfections below a cloud of denial, and yet carry the completely unjustified ability to expect the world out of those around us.

We do not know how to be perfect, how to live a perfect life, how to treat ourselves perfectly, or how to treat others perfectly for that matter. We will never be able to do any of these things. Although the world and everyone in it expects this from us, all the time, no exceptions. We fail to deliver, most times, if not every time. We are just not the person people expect us to be. Even those who love us don’t really love ‘us’. They love the idea of a perfect us. And we are never perfect, we only pretend to be, strive to be, long to be perfect. We live our entire lives in either pursuit or pretense of perfection. And one day we die, only more flawed than on the day we were born.

The irony of the situation is, we do to others what others do to us. Inspite of all our inherent flaws, we expect perfection, from everyone, all the time, no exceptions. Perhaps we do this as an escape route from facing our own inabilities. We cover our ‘guilt’ of not being able to reach up, by witnessing others not being able to reach up. And thereby we brace ourselves to face our tomorrows – not by the power of our strengths, but by the weaknesses of those around us.

What part do we play here? Are we the victims, or are we the culprits? Whoever we may be, there will never be a time when we will excel at everything at once, and everyone that matters will be happy with who we are. Likewise, there will never be a time when we will be completely content with everyone around us that matters.

Perfection? – Myth Busted.

Ha!

"There's a many things to see, when one's still but eight-and-twenty. A many things to see and sorrow for."

- excerpt from H.G.Well's 'Red Room'.

A Matter Of Faith

There was once a man, and he was a good man. He would never harm a fly. But he would never go out of his way to do good either. He smiled a lot, so mostly people liked having him around them. He would go to work everyday and return to his home in the evening.

He would seem to you like every other man you know. But he was different. He believed in God. So do most men, you would argue. True, but unlike most men, he had a very special kind of relationship with his God.

And this is how it was. The man believed that to keep his God happy at all times, he must go to the Idol (one that resembles his God), same day every week, at the very same hour, sit down, shut his eyes tight, and think of God’s name 500 times. This was it, the man really believed in this.

And so he would go. He would go to the idol (one that resembles his God), same day every week, at the very same hour, sit down, shut his eyes tight, and think of God’s name 500 times. He never failed in doing this.

In time he got married. His wife was lovely and the man was happy with this choice. Even after marriage, he would go to the idol (one that resembles his God), same day every week, at the very same hour, sit down, shut his eyes tight, and think of God’s name 500 times, only this time he would take his wife along. Although the wife was a believer of God, she did not believe she had to go to the idol (one that resembles his God), same day every week, at the very same hour, sit down, shut her eyes tight, and think of God’s name 500 times, for her to connect with her God. But she did it anyways. She did it more for her husband than for her God.

A year passed by. One day the wife went suddenly ill. Her body burned with fever and her face turned a sickly yellow. She was too weak to walk on her own legs and call for help. She was hoping her husband would return home soon from his work and tend to her. But she doubted in her heart that it would ever happen.

You see, by fate’s deceitful twist, the day the wife got suddenly ill, was the very same day when the man was to go to the idol (one that resembles his God), at the very same hour, sit down, shut his eyes tight, and think of God’s name 500 times!

The man was in a dilemma. Was he to tend to his wife, or to his God? He had a difficult choice to make. ‘If I tend to my dear God’, thought the man, ‘my dear God would tend to my wife, and she would get better. After all, it is this very God that brought her into my life!’ And on this note, he hurried on to tend to his God, for the hour was close when he had to go to the idol (one that resembles his God), same day every week, at the very same hour, sit down, shut his eyes tight, and think of God’s name 500 times.

The man did his duty to his God, and returned home only to find his wife dead in their bed. She had a look of desperation in her dead eyes, perhaps a sign of a painful death. But nowhere on her still face did he sense disappointment. She probably knew he would tend to his God before he tended to his wife. She was a good wife, she had always understood.

For five days the man cried. On the sixth day he started to go to his work again, and return to his home in the evening. By the 192nd day, he had forgotten all about her.

Years passed, and as always, the man would go to the idol (one that resembles his God), same day every week, at the very same hour, sit down, shut his eyes tight, and think of God’s name 500 times. He lived a fulfilling life and lived to grow a very old man. You see, although his God was very pleased with him, he was not pleased enough to keep him young forever. Like all others around him (believers and non-believers), he grew just as old.

One day, when he was 88 years old, some school kids came into his old-age home. They had come to do some kind of survey on old people in old-age homes (I don’t really have the details about this survey, but I heard them saying to the man that it was for a school project). The kids started to ask the man a lot of questions about his life as a young man. Finally they got to the subject of his wife.

‘Why did your wife die, old man?’ asked one of the kids. ‘Well, she died because I made a mistake’, said the man. ‘And what mistake did you make, old man?’ ask the very same kid again. ‘You see’ started the man, ‘you see, to keep my God happy I go to the idol (one that resembles my God), same day every week, at the very same hour, sit down, shut my eyes tight, and think of God’s name 500 times.’ ‘So?’ asked the very same kid once again. ‘So’ said the man, ‘on that very day, I went to the idol (one that resembles my God), at the very same hour, I sat down, shut my eyes tight, and thought of God’s name. But alas, I thought it only 499 times!’

(This is my first attempt at a fictional short story)

Avatar

The times are new. So are the looks. Everyone is a wanna-be star in their own way. It is easy to be someone else in an hourly ‘makeover’ session with the stylist.

A brunette today can be a blonde tomorrow, and a blonde can as easily be a red-haired in a day. A perm can change to a silk straight can change to waves to curls to bangs and no-bangs to short to long …all in a matter of minutes. Beneath five layers of make-up you can be glamorous-in-seconds. From liposuctions to protein enhancements, men and women today have choices that are almost overwhelming.

Makeovers are not just limited to how you look. A docile and laid-back person may appear aggressive and out-going in public because his work/society may demand that from him. He may don an image about who he is, hiding his real self. At home he may be the prefect loving husband for the sake of shared mortgage payments, while in reality he may still be in love with his neighbor’s wife.

These times demand great expectations. And from a desire to cope up stems a quest for new ‘avatars’. But beneath all these masks of glory, do we even remember who we really are? What is my hair really like, what does my natural skin feel like, what do I really look like, and most importantly, what do I really feel like?

The only way to connect with the real self is to accept the real self. The Creator is the ultimate artist, and we will never be able to be more beautiful than what he made us to be.

"And I wonder if I ever cross your mind? For me it happens all the time....."

Lady Antebellum - Need You Now

Ding-A-Ling-Ling

A particularly windy day today. As I walked my walk I couldn’t escape noticing all the wind-chimes in the area diligently working overdrive in unison. It was their day to be heard.

The trees spoke to me too. As the wind struggled to find its path amid the leafless branches of the majestic masters, I heard them shushing me. “SSSSHHHHHH…………….”they went. It almost felt like they were asking me to stop listening to my overworked mind for a while and give them some deserved attention.

Sometimes I get the same hustling feel run through me when a soft breeze passes through my let-down hair. Like a fleeting caress…not quite there and yet so there. It is at times like these that one feels the joy of being alive.

(post written on 3/1/2010)

From LA With Love

Change is nasty, or so it seems at first. Almost always it eventually turns out to be a blessing in disguise. But as a habit we always detest it, like I did a couple weeks back when I was asked to travel to California for 2 weeks for my work.

Having moved from California to Connecticut just a month back, it was painful to start packing my bags again. To add to the pain, I was very glad when I had left LA. I hated the place so much, I had sworn to myself that I would never set foot here again. Now while the world associates this place with white sands, fashion, Hollywood and zero snow, I associated it with bad memories, fake people and zero friends. I always used to say “Nothing’s warm here except for the weather.”

Have you ever noticed how the things you want to run away from the most always come back to you? They always do! It’s almost like there’s no escape. So even though I had let myself believe that I was done with LA, here I was back again….grudging and muttering curses as I landed at LAX.

As always, after so much gone wrong, things had to take a turn for the better. This time I had to work quite far from where I was earlier. So that ensured I never bumped into the same people I hated so much (phew!). This place (Camarillo) is actually 55 miles away from the airport, and a good 25 miles away from my earlier work place and residence. I was all alone for 2 whole weeks, and got an opportunity (which so rarely comes along) to make truce with the place, and create a fresh perspective. Everyone deserves a second chance, so why not this place?

This time the place was desperately trying to please me. All it had to do was look its best, which it did for me. California has always been beautiful, but these two weeks it was something else. While the freeways were blocked with the incessant rain waters, the valley (Camarillo) was surrounded by green majesties of mountains that exhaled the freshest air and the dewiest breeze. It was almost like witnessing the Indian monsoon. Every morning I went for an hour long walk, then drove 9 miles to work into the valley, all 9 being absolutely worth the drive. I zigzagged between the mountains that were half covered in misty rainclouds, and looked for the sun that was only just there. It was pleasantly warm-cold and my jacket took a rest in my car. As I drove each morning down into the valley, I took in the delightful view while sipping on my steaming coffee. At work I met new people and liked them all.

Now how can something like this not earn my forgiveness? I let bygones be bygones and now long to return again. Good memories have overridden the bad ones. As I drove to work this morning, I knew it was my last day here and I may never have an encore opportunity to return, or to witness a rainy weather in the valley, and I realized just how much I have begun to like the place! Oh, and did I tell you the name of the exit where my tiny work building proudly stood? – Pleasant Valley :)

The Vagabonds

We’ll make tall sandcastles
Then crush them with our feet
We’ll draw a big heart near the waves
Then watch it wash out by the sea
And we’ll see the sun go down while munching on candyfloss
You, me and us

We’ll run up to a hill top
And feel like king and queen
We’ll yell out our names to the neighboring hills
Then wait for our echoes to talk to us
And we’ll breathe in the fresh dewy air of love
You, me and us

We’ll run out of the house in the year’s first monsoons
Drench ourselves in the pouring rains
We’ll tell each other how sexy we look when wet
Then let our warm lips touch each other’s while we are still shivering
And we’ll return home for a cutting chai and hot pakodas
You, me and us


We’ll set out for long drives
Never knowing where we’re headed
We’ll play our favorite music and sing along
Till our throats are parched and we realize there’s no water in the car
Then we’ll blame each other for forgetting the water and keep singing
You, me and us


We’ll quarrel over petty things
And fling sugar jars at each other like a baseball
We’ll shed some tears and forget what we were fighting about
And apologize a million times
Then we’ll make love for hours and make it all up
You, me and us


We’ll spend all day in warm arms
Talking about everything and nothing
We’ll share our fears and dreams, swearing everything’s secrecy
Then we’ll know each other some more
And wonder in awe about how much more there is yet to know
You, me and us


And when we’re tired beyond compare
We’ll fall asleep on the other’s shoulder
And know we’ll be taken care of till we grow old together
And we’ll live and love, we’ll love and live
Like vagabonds, till we close our eyes for the final time
You, me and us

Work of Art

What could be a good enough reward for a work of art? What does a true artist crave for? Is it money? Fame? Acceptance? Praise? Constructive criticism? A mention in the history books? 

No, I don't think so. I think what a good artist truly craves is an audience. 

As you might have guessed, I have a selfish motive behind this article. And here it is - Please keep reading my blog and do comment, so I know you are reading :) An audience is all this amateur needs to believe she is an artist!

The Solitary Walker

After much deliberation, I set out yesterday for a walk in the biting cold, my regular thing. As I opened the door to step out into the big bad world, there came the pressing urgency to run back into the comfort heating of my home. Thankfully I knew better and kept walking. The need to scurry survived just a few minutes. About ten minutes into my walk, I realized that getting out was the best decision of my day. 

As I battled my way against the strong winds, my hair flying in all directions, my nose Rudolf red, my lips pursed in silence, I felt as brave as a world war commander-in-chief. And yet, I meekly pulled up the cap of my jacket. I was wearing my glasses as opposed to contacts, since the last time I went out like this, my eyes had started to water in the cold breeze. My hands tucked into my pockets, I was fully covered except for the face. In due time torture transformed to near-normalcy as my body heated up from the walk. I soon had the upper hand. Finally my mind had an opportunity to think out-of-the-cold. 

I observed the complete lack of life around me, barring some school kids rushing back home from their school bus, and the cars swooshing by. Everyone was in a hurry to get back home (it was late afternoon by now). There was no chirping of birds, no swishing of trees, no hissing of insects, no shine of the sun (the sun was taking an afternoon power-nap somewhere behind the dark clouds). All I had for company were the naked trees, the salt-like snow, the snow-like salt, the wild breeze, and the nerve-numbing cold. Mr. Weatherman, this 'felt like' being one with nature. 

As I walked I made my own path through the unpaved walk-ways, crushing the soft snow beneath my sneakers. I left on it my footprints to stay, till they were erased by the next walker, or by the next snow pour. At first I was worried I might slip and fall, but I decided I shouldn't worry too much, since falling wouldn't be too bad anyways. With so much snow to cushion me, I wouldn't have hurt myself. So I marched on with a skip in my step and delight in my heart. 

On my return along the path to head home, I witnessed a most beautiful sight. The very sun that appeared all elusive and shy, was now flaunting his million orange-red rays right into my path, so I would notice. He probably wanted to say hello and goodbye at the same time. He was ostentatiously retiring after a hard day's work, and I think needed some appreciation for his unending toil. I graciously took in the breath-taking view.    

There were a few moments during my walk when I was thinking about nothing, I was just walking. And thereby was the purpose served. 

Izhar

A blog about me expressing me. The little minutiae in my mind that I'm sure everyone would relate to. An honest attempt to capture everything around me, through my thoughts.