Tag Archives: feelings

Changes.

Nothing is permanent, except change.

 

Change is the only constant.

 

Things change in life.

 

People come and go.

 

These simple words refuse to sit within my irate mind and destroy its peace. Is it so difficult to grasp these simple facts and live with it?

 

Yes, I know I am being unreasonable, I am and I can’t help it. And you know what, I want to be. For a little while I want to be this super childish person who is for once, just for a little while allowed to make all unnecessary and unreasonable demands. I don’t expect them to get fulfilled, I know they can’t, I juts want them to be there, for a while be the not so mature person.

 

I know things have to change, for good or for worse, I know these people have to go, whether I like it or not, but just for once I want to sit back and whine a little. Because however hard I pretend and try to feel that all of it doesn’t matter, in reality it does. Yes, it does matter.

 

There, I said it. It all matters, it all hurts, and I don’t like it.

 

Having said that, I also understand that I can’t control everything, neither do I want to. I also realize that I will very soon learn to have these changes in my life. I understand that I will accept these changes whole-heartedly, and very soon these things wouldn’t even matter. But until then I want to sit back, lie down, and just for once admit these feelings to myself. For once I want to let myself cry and laugh and do whatever I wish to. I will move on, I just want a little more time to adjust to this change.

 

 

Re-visiting; Re-reading.

I read this following poem time and again, very often, so often that by now I have most of the lines by heart and yet I do not get enough of it.

How can I? Because every time I read this, it gives me, well I won’t say new insight but the very same old feelings that I live with. The feelings are always there, they are ever present, only they come out or I let them come out not too often. These are the feelings I live with, most women live with.

Though there are some days when they flow so rapidly that I fail to control them, or give them a direction and on those days, I read, I read anything, and everything, I read poems, novels, stories, plays. I read this poem all over again.

Today is one such day, and I will share this once again. Because, I am flowing, I am hurting, I am smiling, because it’s all mine, because I am I.

An Introduction. 

I don’t know politics but I know the names
Of those in power, and can repeat them like
Days of week, or names of months, beginning with Nehru.
I am Indian, very brown, born inMalabar,
I speak three languages, write in
Two, dream in one.
Don’t write in English, they said, English is
Not your mother-tongue. Why not leave
Me alone, critics, friends, visiting cousins,
Every one of you? Why not let me speak in
Any language I like? The language I speak,
Becomes mine, its distortions, its queernesses
All mine, mine alone.
It is half English, halfIndian, funny perhaps, but it is honest,
It is as human as I am human, don’t
You see? It voices my joys, my longings, my
Hopes, and it is useful to me as cawing
Is to crows or roaring to the lions, it
Is human speech, the speech of the mind that is
Here and not there, a mind that sees and hears and
Is aware. Not the deaf, blind speech
Of trees in storm or of monsoon clouds or of rain or the
Incoherent mutterings of the blazing
Funeral pyre. I was child, and later they
Told me I grew, for I became tall, my limbs
Swelled and one or two places sprouted hair.
WhenI asked for love, not knowing what else to ask
For, he drew a youth of sixteen into the
Bedroom and closed the door, He did not beat me
But my sad woman-body felt so beaten.
The weight of my breasts and womb crushed me.
I shrank Pitifully.
Then … I wore a shirt and my
Brother’s trousers, cut my hair short and ignored
My womanliness. Dress in sarees, be girl
Be wife, they said. Be embroiderer, be cook,
Be a quarreller with servants. Fit in. Oh,
Belong, cried the categorizers. Don’t sit
On walls or peep in through our lace-draped windows.
Be Amy, or be Kamala. Or, better
Still, be Madhavikutty. It is time to
Choose a name, a role. Don’t play pretending games.
Don’t play at schizophrenia or be a
Nympho. Don’t cry embarrassingly loud when
Jilted in love … I met a man, loved him. Call
Him not by any name, he is every man
Who wants. a woman, just as I am every
Woman who seeks love. In him . . . the hungry haste
Of rivers, in me . . . the oceans’ tireless
Waiting. Who are you, I ask each and everyone,
The answer is, it is I. Anywhere and,
Everywhere, I see the one who calls himself I
In this world, he is tightly packed like the
Sword in its sheath. It is I who drink lonely
Drinks at twelve, midnight, in hotels of strange towns,
It is I who laugh, it is I who make love
And then, feel shame, it is I who lie dying
With a rattle in my throat. I am sinner,
I am saint. I am the beloved and the
Betrayed. I have no joys that are not yours, no
Aches which are not yours. I too call myself I.

Kamala Das. 

“Your Eyes Speak, Darling!”

It is often advised not to build a business with a friend or a relative, because one of them will never flourish. And the ever adamant person that I am, I will go and definitely do that.

A few years ago I met this person, who initially was abhorred by me but when I got to know him, I realised I was so wrong, completely wrong. And that’s how our friendship began. I had stopped expecting anything out of any relationship by then and so this began as a general acquaintance for me which inadvertently took to a really good friendship. I still didn’t expect anything out of it. When I say ‘expect’ all I mean is that I didn’t expect him to do anything for me, I didn’t expect him to really bother for me or I had no intention in worrying him. I am short of words here.. do you get it? What I am trying to say.

Anyways, so we became good friends and really good friends for that matter where there is no scope of any kind of romantic relationship from both the sides (thankfully). And then after a while we started working together.

I got to know him even better.

Since this is a work-friend relationship we make sure we decide primarily when we are talking as friends, and when as co-workers. But of course many a times we divert ways and so far it has never been ugly.

Today, I met this person after a few days and we were discussing work over a cup of coffee. We were almost done, when I caught him staring at me, more so like glaring at me. My mind went blank, why was he not focused at what I was saying. And I had to snap at him to bring him out of his reverie.

We simply discussed work and as soon as we got finished with it, he blurted out, “Why don’t you go out somewhere? You are truly disturbed and in an objectionable amount of pain.”

I was flummoxed. I almost stammered which is really unlike me and then decided to keep shut, pretending to drink my coffee.

“You go on a leave; you are stressed and really burdened with work, a break would help you.”

We weren’t even discussing anything personal. We were discussing work for God’s sake. How would he know anything about my life right now? I gulped another sip of coffee and stared blankly at him.

“You deserve it,” With that I knew he wouldn’t say anything further.

I knew I had to say something, I couldn’t let him waver. He is my friend too and I owed him an answer. But what?

My hands are wrapped in a fist, and he smiles. Fuck! He does know me well.

I let go of my hands and say “But how would you know any of that?” trying to sound confident and challenging.

Who was I kidding?

“Your eyes speak, darling.”

And just that way, my eyes grew bigger and I gulped down air as fast as I could. He knows me from my eyes? How? Really? Is that possible?

He didn’t ask me anything further; he knew I would never say. I never do. I just shut myself down from emotions. And he left me with that thought.

We finished our coffee, and I diverted him with my tactics, I bombarded him with my questions about him, and made it all about him and I won! We were soon into his problems and how he was dealing with them. We left soon.

He dropped me home as a friend, reminding me to make some work calls as a co-worker. But my mind kept wondering. I didn’t ‘expect’ anything from him. And yet he proved to be really a good friend. Well, more than a good friend.

You just don’t lose these kind of people, whoever they are, and whatever kind of relationship you have with them, you just don’t. They are too special to lose.

 

That Playful Drop of Water!

One of the perks of living in a small city is, you are almost always close to nature, especially when your city is known to be clean and green. I cannot say that this is the cleanest of all but when compared to all the other cities that I have been in, my city is unquestionably clean and green for that matter.

I mention one of the perks above, because the other one is extremely less traffic, which helps me to go on long drives even during the day. Today was one such day where I had the exceptional chance to delight in and devour the gorgeous and deadly amalgamation of nature’s tricks.

I was on my way to let’s say ‘someplace’ when unexpectedly and yet incessantly my inner goddess was screaming at me to divert ways. And I am a fan of her, my inner goddess, you know. I just cannot desert her. After all she is the one who stays with me, always; my constant and unbroken support even when I don’t listen to her and make wrong decisions. And so, I avert ways.

Where? I don’t know but I do what she says and instantly I am drawn to the most secluded part of the city. I don’t know what I am doing, and where am I going, all I know is I am driving. I am driving to the most serene part of the city, and to the most magnificent part of the day.

And suddenly I am unerringly aware of my surroundings.

There are two roads diverging in front of me, and I take the one that is less crowded 😉

I am driving at a very measured speed. I am in no hurry and I am instantly overwhelmed by the towering trees on both sides of the road, making it difficult to even look at the sky, the daunting sky!

Leisurely, I stop my vehicle and park it in a corner. There is a bench on the corner of the road and I sit there for a while. I breathe. The smell is so fresh, that I close my eyes and get drunk with it. I am already losing consciousness. But the mere sight of my inner goddess dancing and scowling at me makes me instantly aware. I am aware, surprisingly well aware of a glorious sunset, right in front of me, where the road seems to end, where I can see something more than those intimidating trees, where I can see the hint of a sky, an orange sky where the sun is setting at its own pace. It seems to me like a horizon, a place to where I want to walk. I know I cannot reach there, but the prospect is enticing.

The place is disturbingly secluded, but I am okay with it. Slowly, I walk to the middle of the road, where I can see the slightest hint of that orange hue from midst of those trees and look up.

It is so beautiful that I want to keep staring, keep soaring. But even Icarus was rewarded for soaring too high. I shut my eyes after a long time, and look down, and yet there is a deep auburn and bright echo inside my sealed eyes.

Just then, when I thought I had listened enough to my inner goddess and should head back, a chilled drop of water fell on my neck, and ran through my back, sending shivers down my spine.

Oh, the shivers that it gave me, taking me completely by surprise!

I shot up, glaring wide-eyed right at the sky.

Questions squirming.

Mixed feelings.

Dancing emotions

And a thrilled inner goddess.

I smiled!

And just as my smile brightened at that inconsistent and erratic sky; another drop of that startling water touched the corner of my mouth, running down my chin, further down my neck and finally mingling with the musk of my breast.

Oh, the feeling, the sensation that it passed through me.

A small bead of that water making me squirm?

There were butterflies all around.

White trivial flowers were thrown across the path, below the trees.

And then it started drizzling!

I have never loved rain so much.

Never!!

I let myself soak in that cool and unseasonal rain and I don’t care about being drenched.

Listlessly, not wanting to go; not wanting to let go of that pleasing picture, I move.

I start driving, nearing the horizon, that which seemed remote and distant; unreachable.

I am driving as slow as I can balance, as slow as I can allow myself to believe that I am moving forward. I just don’t want to let go of that spectacle, but neither do I want to reach that skyline.

And just when I am nearing the end, just when I feel I am losing those looming tress, I see some colours. It’s not blue of the rains, and it is not orange of that blinding sun.

It is every single colour of the rainbow!

I can see it, I can almost feel it, and now even I am dancing in my mind. My heart is in my mouth, and I am euphoric.

What more could I possible want in that moment?

 

I can see all the colours right in front of me. And what I feel and what I see is beyond words.

In that moment, I don’t want to move, I don’t want to go forward, I want to be there. Simply be there.

I am static now, my head slightly tilted to the left, admiring every inch of nature, wind gushing my senses, splattering locks of my untamed hair on my face.

And in that moment, there is a small salty droplet dripping from my eyes, caressing my skin, inking my cheeks, warming it with its sensations that I had not felt in a long while.

And suddenly I am alive!

 

“Who am I?”

Preparing an essay on feminism I came across something which made me thinking, well, a lot of thinking happened after this. Nothing new, right? That is usually me, who keeps thinking on anything and everything.

So this is what I read today, a simple description on how women are depressed and what Friedan writes-

“I’ve tried everything women are supposed to do- hobbies, gardening, pickling, canning, being very social with my neighbours, — I can do it all, and I like it, but it doesn’t leave you anything to think about- any feeling of who you are. I never had any career ambitions. All I wanted was to get married and have four children. I love the kids and Bob and my home. There’s no problem you can even put a name to. But I am desperate. I begin to feel I have no personality. I am a server of food and a putter-on of pants and a bedmaker; somebody who can be called on when you want something. But who am I?”

I read a lot of things today, a lot which struck my mind and touched me but this dug something deep in my sub conscious mind.

That feeling, where you are absolutely helpless, when you don’t know what to do; when you question your own identity; that is absolutely depressing. And I do not have the courage to live with it. The point is I don’t ever want to have that kind of courage.

What would be the point of my life if I have to question my own identity?

You would say, why abruptly I am thinking so much, and why the question of identity? Nothing is wrong with my life, but this moved deep chords inside me.

I have never been too ambitious, no I won’t say I had no ambitions, I don’t even want too much from my life. No, I don’t want to get married and have four children, maybe I don’t even want to get married at all. May be I don’t even know what exactly do I want. But I just don’t want this feeling- the feeling of being desperate, the feeling that you can’t even name your problem, I don’t want to be that person who loses her personality, who just becomes a person who can be called on.

I cannot begin to think what it would be like to live where you don’t have anything to think about. Can you imagine, me, having nothing to think about?

I have always said, I have unending questions, that I am seeking answers, that I am searching for myself. This I can live with, a quest that might not end, where I am still searching for myself. But I might not be able to live with the question, “Who am I?” It is not even about living with that question. I don’t ‘want’ to ever live with that question.

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What Do You Do?

What do you do when something occupies too much of your time, too much of the space in your already overthinking mind?

What do you do when things that happen are absolutely out of your control?

What do you do when there are only negative thoughts, and more destructive thoughts making home in your heart and mind?

Needless to say the first suggestion would be to talk things out, to share your woes and doubts with people who care about you.

You pray and hope, and calm your mind but those little evil people are trapped within you.

Then comes the idea of writing your feelings down, word by word. Writers often tend to this technique to cure the ache.

But you see, when desperation kicks in, you go as far as writing your frame of mind and even burning the sheet down to mere ashes; repeatedly!

What do you do when despite all the efforts, those thoughts and feelings stick with you?

What do you do when your thoughts are absolutely out of control? When those thoughts, pains you like a piercing needle, slowly seeping blood out?

What do you do when you can take no more?

What do you do when nothing helps, and even the thoughts (the fact that it is not happening in reality, it is only a thought and a feeling in my head is significant here) shatter you to the core?

What do you when you can’t face the consequences of those thoughts?

 

Importance of Language

Ever wondered, what if there was no language?

What if we humans too would depend on only sign language and sounds like other beings?

Would everything will be simpler or more complex?

Would communication be any simpler with lesser options, or would it be more demanding?

What if there were no words, and only feelings?