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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.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
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)
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)
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
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)
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)
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