When time tries to close the door to the past, and our beloved become doorkeepers who shut them from sliding ajar, they forget that there exists no lid which can fasten memories. Life exists on either sides of the door, and emotions live, though, not shared.
I use my work transport to get to work everyday, I have always loved to use it. Not because I am big supporter of cause like global warning, or conservation of fuels, even though I believe in all that, I am one of those useless average Indian who cribs about all the issues, and does not really take any steps to actually do something about them. I use the transport mainly because I hate driving, I have never liked it, and I don’t know how to drive my car.
Anyways, coming back to the topic, I take my transport provided by my work place to get to work. I am one of the last ones to be picked up and first ones to be dropped off. [Yes, I know I am fortunate, and I thank my stars everyday for it]. The bus I take is not a crowded route, so the bus is almost empty most of the days. Usually when I get into the bus there are plenty of choices of seats for me to choose from, and its the same picture every single day. The first day I ever rode that bus, I had to choose my seat. So what do I do?, I go and choose the least preferred seat, the one on top of the wheel. Its a known fact that its gonna bounce a lot if I sit there.
I walk in the next day, I have a lot of choices, but this time around, I walk directly to the seat I took the previous day, as though its my designated seat, and the pattern continued. I always go and occupy the same seat, even when the bus is empty and I have a seat right in the front, I just go and sit in that seat. For no reason it has become ‘my’ seat.
One day I went in to find my seat taken, I developed an instant hatred towards the person who had taken up my seat, not that I didnt have other seats for me, but they are not ‘my’ seat. I must have looked up like every 10 minutes, knowing for sure the seat will not become empty, but still I looked at the person like 100 times and cursed him for taking up my seat.
This made me realize how much possessive I can become in the name of attachment.
I guess there are three kinds of people,
a. People who choose the same seat every single day
b. People who make sure they find a new seat every day, and try to experience novelty in the seats
c. People who dont really care about this, and just want to find a seat to sit.
Even people who belong to category a, have different levels of possessiveness, some might just feel bad that the seat is taken and curse the person once, and others like me might be so possessive that they curse the person every few minutes.
On second thought its not really possessiveness, I think its more to do with our routine being broken. Its as though we want life to become a routine, we want smaller aspects in life to follow a pattern, and for some reason when the pattern is broken, we don’t like the change, we don’t like the idea of having to do something out of the norm. Why does our mind like ‘known’ so much, what is it that we fear about the ‘unknown’, How much of a problem a new seat can cause me?.
When I am so icky of the new seat, I can’t even imagine how I am gonna take the break in my routine when bubbles is going to walk into my life fully
With those fluttering eyelids,
When you look deep into my eyes;
Pulling me closer, with your slender arms,
When you puff sweet breaths onto my neck;
With eyes full of anticipation,
When you ask me,
“Why do you like me?”
I can’t help but slide into blankness.
I wish, I had a reason,
I wish,
Its time to update my social networking websites, I checked my facebook profile, clicked the edit part and was looking at a drop down menu. I was wondering if the relationship status on the page had something like “I don’t know what the hell I am doing”. It turns out that its time for me to change, yep you heard it right, Rambler is getting hitched soon.
Even before I could breathe the freshly polluted air of my home town, I was sitting in front of a girl who I had been talking to for some time now, and before I even got to try my favorite dosa joint in town [Which is like just 10 mnts walk from my place, and am yet to do it], I was being asked to say what’s my decision. Not that I took a long time, but still. The idea of saying yes, and the amount of changes it would bring into my life, kind of scared me. Ah how easy it was to go buy a pair of jeans, use it for a week, feel not so good about it, and go return to the store, and here I was making probably one of the biggest decisions in my life, and knowing for sure, if I screw up once I am gonna be in middle of nowhere for rest of my life.
Rambler decided to do what he does best when he has to make an important decision, Flip his favorite coin. Just kidding.. 
. After some rounds of thinking, and more rounds of talking, it was decided that it’s going to be ‘bubbles’ who is going to be the wifey to be.
Rambler now discovers why people spend so much of time on phone once they get hitched. Probably its the time I use up all my saved minutes, and probably borrow some from future. I have never talked on phone so much before, of course apart from the work calls. Its been an eventful 15 days of my life.
As Rambler makes his new steps, I am sure he is gonna slip here and there, and walk, crawl, scrape through into his new role, he welcomes ‘bubbles’ into his world of virtual ramblings.
I guess, we humans are good in keeping secrets, rather good in keeping things a secret. We go through so many things in life, thoughts, emotions, feelings, urges, resolutions, problems, and so on..and how many of these do we keep to ourselves, In most of use the answer would be ‘many’. Is this ‘keeping to self’ the thing which makes stuff personal?.
When I look back, there have been things which have been so important to me, things which have given me immense happiness, things which I thought would never happen to me, people whom I think I would never meet, nothing more significant than something which I got to experience in recent times. When you are faced with such a significant event, what would a normal person do?, go share it with friends, or family, or with every damn person on this earth?. Or may be if he/she is a big blogger fan, may be post a bunch of posts on it, or atleast one post in excitement to share it with the anonymous blog world.
Rambler decided to keep it to himself, not talk about it to anyone, nor even his close friends, not even his blog. A place which he thought was for such thoughts he couldnt share with people in real life. Thats when Rambler realized how the blog has lost its purpose, anyways thats a different topic altogether.
Coming back to the closed box of secret, There has been a number of times things have come to tip of my tongue, to share with few people close to me, my friends, my blog friends, my family, nothing really forced it out of me. Somewhere I didn’t get the feeling to share it. This of all the things terrifies me, it kind of shows that I am running out of people whom I want to share things with, specially things which are of significance, and experiences which redefines me as an individual.
On the other hand, what happens to such hidden emotions and feelings, and such periods of one’s life, would we ever share it with people? would we just bottle it put a cork on it and set it afloat in an ocean thinking someone might open it?, or would we regret one day, for not sharing it with people you care.
I am not sure if the post makes any sense, nor if it has any significance to a person who reads it. As of today I think the bottle is safely stored in my mind’s closet, sometimes right in the front, and sometimes hidden behind the memories.
Its been 4 days now. 4 days and 3 nights to be precise. I am back to my city, my streets, my house, my bed, my restroom. Only difference is that I no longer feel they are ‘mine’.
Looks like 11 months has changed the point of reference for “my” and “mine”. Even though I never fell in love with the city of Fort Worth, I just realized the unrealized bond I had with the city, my couch which was no more than a rented piece of luxury, turns out, meant a lot more to me. The extra soft bed which my house had to offer, even though hated for its softness, felt so much mine.
I switch on my TV, and my mind looks for TBS and science channel which I don’t get any longer, I look for my cooktop , and find my mom hogging the kitchen, I look for my refrigerator and find as if strangers have taken over the freeze space, I go to my restroom and the counter looks so different.
Yep you heard it mine, I think everything that was to with my house was mine, I had no one to answer to, and it had no one else to tend to. The chores and errands which were a sort of headache to begin with, had become a part of my life, something which I thought I would never miss, but turns out I do.
It had been just a month since the gang had formed, and now I am out of it, I miss every single person from it, the weekend fun, cooking at each other’s place, going out on every single occasion, the drink we used to enjoy.
At the end of 4 days, I am dying to get back to work, the idea of ‘rest’ is kind of unresting my mind.
I know this is a temporary thing, and my point of reference will soon change, but until then, I think I am missing my house, my life.
I do know I haven’t written a real post in a long time. Not that I am going to write one now, just too pre-occupied to do my usual doze of thinking.
No, I am not loaded highly with work, come on, its holiday season here.
No, I haven’t been bitten by a snake, literally or figuratively.
No, I haven’t stopped reading, I am getting my daily doze of things to think about.
No, I haven’t stopped social interaction, I do get my regular dosage of social musings.
So why am I not thinking blogworthy, makes me wonder. It’s as though someone magically removed blogging from my head, its like go live the exact life you were living, but just don’t think about blogging.
So until the real blogger wakes up, please don’t go away, I promise he will wake up soon.
34 days to go……………..
If I were to give you 100$ today to spend, at the end of the day you check your pockets and find 55$ left, would you be happy that you saved 55$ or sad that you spent 45$?.
If you were careful enough, may be, you could have saved 60 or 65.
If you were stingy, may be you could have saved 80$
If you were a little less careful, you could have saved like 40$
So with 55$ what would you feel?
I am not sure how many of you have already noticed this, Rambler has got a new face, a new identity.
If you are wondering where and how, just check the pic on comments, does something look odd?.
bingo..
was
has become
Now you might wonder whats the difference, Rambler was faceless before, and still continues to be faceless.
For starters the “was” was a stolen one from a generous website from the internet, “had become” has been shot by Rambler himself.
The “was” indicated a bunch of identities, and he thought, all of them were in his own hands, He could be what he wanted to be, the way he want himself to be.
The “was” also indicated a clear demarcation of various identities, and how each aspect of Rambler was so clearly etched out from the other.
The “was” stood for moods which made Rambler take up different masks, and just fit into them as though he had been like that forever.
Time does bring in change,
The clear demarcations have merged into one single blob, it’s no longer a bunch of identities, but rather one single big blur of characteristics. Moods are there but more of a bundle of colors running wild. Rambler has also realized it’s not in his hand, and the being in control was an illusion.
When you look at the “has become” and concentrate, you can see the clear etches, however few seconds more of focused staring puts you back into a state of blur.
So ladies and gentlemen, presenting the new Rambler.
I think, over time, some of us become the brands we admire, like in my case ‘lazy boy’.
Since I have been lazy and not really writing my travelogues [Even though I love to write the], just being lazy, I decided to post few pics from my wanderings.
Standing at the peer, with my buddies, and a drink, I thought may be it was the drink which put in an orange filter to my views, turns out my camera was drunk too.
Sunset at Key West
What if there was a painting competition, and the winning paintings were chosen to be made into a real life landscape on earth. I think this place could have been one of them
White sands from South beach, Florida
One fine Saturday morning, we decided to walk into a cavern full of natural wonders, and here is what we found
A sneal peak into the natural bridge caverns, SA, TX
So what does a tired guy after the cave walk do?, chose to do the river walk.
Steps across the river walk, SA, TX
Then we chose to drive across a stream up in Oklahoma, which had a hint of colors, more like a preview of the real thing
Drive across the stream, Turner Falls, OK
Then we hit upon the Turner Falls, the actual cascade of white water
Natural pool beneath the Turner Falls, OK
 | jonbeme on Life on either side |
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 | Rambler on Life on either side |
| Rambler on Life on either side |
 | DreamCatcher on A tale of seats |
 | BlueMist on A tale of seats |
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