Category Archives: Human Nature

That Flower!

 

Remember Monica and how clean freak she was?

 

Yep, I am compared to her often. And I have to admit that I am pretty much the same. I will crib when I will see that I have to sleep on the wrong side of the bed, or when the coffee cup is kept on the table without a coaster, and things like that. Things, which no one bothers about.

 

But she also has that door. Remember, which no one knew for so long and when eventually it was opened; it had all kinds of garbage stuffed inside. Yep, I have that too. Well, it’s not a door, I have a big box full of old things, which my folks call unused, unwanted garbage. But I call it memories. Yes, I have stuff in there, which I will never use in my life, and yet I refuse to depart with them. Things from my nursery days, to yesterday! From crayons, to mementos from every place I have been to, memories with all kinds of people I love and care about!

 

So, come Diwali, my people will pester me to clear at least something away, and every year I pretend to clean something out, only I never throw anything out. I make space, I cram things, but I have not yet discarded anything, and nor do I have any such intentions for near future. So today, I sit and pretend just like every year, to clear things out, to clean my room. (The irony is, it’s already cleaned, but since it’s Diwali, I still have to do it!) So, I am utilizing my Sunday this way, and I run across some really old stuff!! This stuff I haven’t met in a few years now!

 

I open that box full of memories,

I take out everything, crayons, to paints, to some Barbie accessories, to slam books, to school photographs, to college memories..

There is a list, I will not bother you with.

A book comes out,

It’s a novel.

I don’t remember reading it.

The blurb brushes my memory.

Yeah, I have read it.

But it wasn’t my favorite.

It was a book read and forgotten!

Then why did I find it here?

I drank that old book smell!!

And as if it was magic, I knew why it was there!!

 

I smiled!

Blushing would have gone too far.

But I smiled, all the same.

And closed the book shut.

Not sure whether to go ahead and look at it.

I hold that book for a while, turning and twisting.

Trying to figure out my next move.

 

Oh what the hell, there’s no bomb inside.

 

I go ahead and open it.

I couldn’t find it.

My heart literally, literally skips a beat.

WHAT THE HELL!!

Where is it?

What did I do with it?

 

Didn’t you say you were going to throw it, anyway?

 

Yeah, but I said so, I didn’t do it.

Definitely not!!

 

So where is it?

 

I scan the pages frantically, and just when I am about to burst (I don’t know with what) I find it.

 

And there is a big smile on my face.

I don’t deserve that smile.

That smile isn’t anymore mine.

I don’t even want that smile back.

But I smile anyways.

And I close my eyes and get drunk

Drunk in that stale smell of books, and words,

Of love and feelings,

Of that naivety and all the firsts.

 

I brush away the tears,

Pretending to be sneezing amidst the dusts.

I sober up from my past,

And I smile anyway.

 

This is what I find there:

IMG_1947.JPG

I know you can’t even make out what this is!

But it’s special all the same.

 

Years have passed by,

People have come and gone,

Feelings have changed,

Oh, the people have changed,

I have changed,

But this still remains special.

 

I smell that old smell one last time,

Tuck it inside the book again,

And close it as delicately s possible.

I don’t want it to rust,

Not now, anyway.

And read a couplet, that I attached in the midst of the pages,

That last time, I had an encounter with this.

 

Vaqt beet te der nahi lagti,

Umra guzar gayi, kai saal beet gaye,

Par tujse mulaqaat kabhi fir hui nahi.

 

Aaj fir mila hai wo tera diya nazrana,

Jise ab tak sambhal k rakha hai,

Kuch murja sa gaya hai,

Par ab tak apna sa lagta hai.

 

Jazbaat, ehsaas, shayad badal gaye honge

Tere, aur shayad mere bhi.

Teri ibaadat ki umeed nahi, Sirf ek unkahi arzoo hai,

Isilye is murjaye gulaab ko bhi ab tak sambhal k rakha hai!

 

I smile,

I reread.

I close the book.

I pack the box.

And put it away.

I know not till when!

 

 

PS: I will hit publish before I change my mind about publishing the Hindi lines. I know it’s not great, it’s novice, and very childlike. But I presume that we all do these kind of stuff once in a while 😀

Advertisements

Breaking Apart!

Somehow, I do not agree with people who keep saying that you are strong, that you can do it, you must not break down, even when you see the person in a state where he sees nothing but darkness. Forgive me, but I just cannot bring myself to say that you have no right in breaking down.

I feel, that we all have the right to break apart sometimes, fall to the lowest of your levels, shatter into as many pieces as you want, for only when you are at your lowest, do you realise that there is nowhere else to go but, somewhere above it.

Breaking apart could be wrong, only and only when it becomes a habit. So,

IMG_1406.jpg

Forgetting To Live.

When I was young, like a very small kid, I wanted to grow old, not like my grandma or grandpa old, but old like my elder brother. So that I could have the chances which he had, so that I could do what he could do.

Then when I thought I was like my brother, how old he used to be, then I wanted to grow older than him, so that I could live how he lived, without anyone bossing over me.

When I was really old, like you know the recent adult? I wanted to become someone who was stable, with a proper job, and all that, you know.

Then, I was old, like you know who had a job, and a little money, and something, and then I wanted to have a family of my own. I wanted to be the one whom I saw on the street the other day, the one with a husband, and two cute little children.

When I was the one with the cute little children, I wanted to be the one that I saw from across my house, you know the old lady cribbing at her old man, for not doing something, for not understanding her, and yet how you could tell that they had grown old together.

Then when I was that old lady, I wanted yet something else. I wanted to be the free individual who lived next door, so that I could travel like him.

And then I wanted something else too…..

 

My point being, all our lives we keep wanting things. We want, and we want. We are never satisfied, ad we never will be. May be, we want something and we get it, and then we don’t want it anymore. May be we do get it and now we want something else. We keep pining for things we don’t have, never relishing what we actually have. We keep trying to push ourselves to get more, not realizing that in the process we are losing what we have.

We keep wanting to live in a way, never realizing that we are forgetting to actually live in the life that we are supposed to be living.

 

A Writer Without Words!

Today, they introduced me as a writer, and honestly, I did not see that coming. People keep telling me, that I am a writer, but there is some part of me that still does not believe that.

Anyways so there I was being introduced as a writer, and then the irony struck me. The very same morning I was struggling with words to describe what I was feeling, and I failed. Then I tried completing my assignments, failed! And then I started working on a fictional plot, at which I failed again.

I am not talking about the writers’ block, I kept writing, I kept taking notes, I kept typing, but I was not satisfied with it, I still felt that the feelings were unclear, and what I was saying were mere words. But if they were words, then why was I feeling the absence of emotions. And if I had words, then was I not a writer after all? But then only putting words isn’t a writers job, his job is to bring even fiction to reality. So where was I going wrong?

I had words, but still I felt I was not a writer.

On second thoughts, I felt I did not even have the words, all I had was the feeling, the love, the hatred, required for being a writer. The words that I say I wrote, were not mine, they did not justify how I felt, how I wanted things to come out, they simply did a job of being portrayed as a writer’s work. They were just there on paper.

So now, I did not even have words, and yet I was a writer?

 

The Special Bond.

The bond that we share

Is really very special,

It is the warmth, the love, the care,

That exceeds all level.

 

Your unshared, unconditional love

Has still, never been enough,

The humane wish of always wanting more,

Has left me without you; hollow to the core.

 

I replay in my mind

The unintentional, inconsequential fights.

I laugh aloud,

With tears in my eyes.

 

Do you remember the reason of our squabbles?

I, for one can remember no such troubles.

All the memories that rushes through,

Pictures our happiness true.

 

Sweet savourings shared together,

Has not reached me this un-fateful year.

Would you have missed me today?

What a wrong question I have come to say.

 

It isn’t just sad

That this Rakhi, I am not with you,

Don’t get mad,

But I am still happy for you.

 

We have never settled

Not on a single thing,

But the love inclines,

That keeps us always stringed.
This may be a new endeavor

But my dear, always remember,

The bond that we share,

Is really very special,

It is the warmth, the love, the care,

That exceeds all level.

*

111

A little something, something very naive and simple,  for my precious brother who is not with me on this special occasion of ‘Raksha Bandhan’

I don’t say it, and I won’t say it, but you must know, that I do love you.

I will kick you, I will fight with you, and I will also love you but that is only my right. If someone else even tries to hurt you, he/she will have to pay for it!! I mean it!!

*

Originally posted on August 7th, 2018.

Helpless.

I feel helpless today.

So helpless,

As helpless as I haven’t felt in a long time.

As helpless, as I think I can never feel.

The epitome of helplessness.

And yet, I feel this can go on,

On and on for quite a while.

And yet I feel that I can feel even more helpless.

But what could be more than this, I wonder?

Because, this what I feel today, is beyond my ways of expressions.

This what I feel today is beyond my perception,

This is beyond me.

And yet I know not, what to do. And yet I know not how much more helpless can I feel.

Because this feels more than enough,

More than what I thought I could take.

 

I thought I am doing my best

But even the best seems less than the best.

Nothing seems to be working,

Everything keeps coming,

And I feel helpless.

 

I thought I could take it,

I thought I could do something,

But now, depite all the efforts,

I feel helpless.

 

I feel as helpless as I would have felt in

Drowning into that ocean,

Without knowing how to swim.

Differences Among Religions!

People often discuss religion, and the first thing that they’d discuss or very proudly announce is, “We are of ‘this’ religion” or “Our religion is different”. Basically they are more often than not heard or seen discussing the differences between their religions. What amuses me though, is somehow I always see or look into the similarities, and then I end up wondering, what exactly are the differences, cause I don’t see any.

Of course and every time I say this out aloud, people tend to give me weird looks, which might say “Are you insane?” or making me sound absolutely unacceptable. And the very loud mouth that I have, I go on and on about this where I feel, I should speak up. But often this has leaded to heated arguments (Just as it happens with me when discussing issues relating women), even among families and friends. So, I have stopped speaking my mind, and I speak only when I think I can take no longer of this argument, which I am so much against of. Again, this happens more often than I would want it to.

But, I can’t help it. I just can’t resist myself. And the more I speak up, the more I realize, that you can’t make someone understand anything, unless he or she is willing to understand it. You can teach someone algebra or mean median, mode, or anything else for that matter, but he will understand it only if he is willing to understand the basics of it. Without his willingness to open the doors of his mind, nothing is going to happen.

I have come to learn this the hard way. And yet, I try and try to talk people into accepting things, which I think are right. And seldom do people change how they think about the issue.

Coming back to religion, what bothers me today is ‘these people’ talk about the differences, but most of them do believe in the concept of Hell and Heaven. Having said this, I think I can safely say this is the case with most religions. Then should this not be it? I mean if you think you believe in Hell or heaven, and that your Karma decides where you are going to end up, then should that not be enough to make you behave in a manner, justified; to not let you mistreat and differentiate among religions?

PS: This is just a thought. I don’t mean to annoy anyone with my thoughts, cause neither do I own so much knowledge of religion, nor do I know most of the times, what I am speaking about.

PS (Sorry, I got something more): If you ask me I’d rather follow Humanity as a religion and try and be a better person, not just to myself but towards every person, with or without any differences.