You Are “enter”
You like to consider yourself decisive and committed instead.
You don’t have a lot of trouble making very final decisions.
You trust your instincts, and you don’t waver. You just go for it!
The other day I had this thought, how it would feel to be stick to a person when he/she is happy. Happiness kind of rubs off, you know, however low you might be, you kind of feel happy for the person, and the positively spreads, and you would no longer be low. Unfortunately the converse is also true, the lows and the blues are contagious too, you are with a person who is kind of low, and moping around, and bam, you too end up being low. It sounds too mean, to even think like this, but then not all people are “correct”, many of them are “practical”, being practical even though it might be a tad selfish. Have you ever run away when the person tries to cry, and stick with him when he smiles?
Random One Liners:
I heard this in the movie “Luck by Chance”, and have ever since been thinking about this. It does make a lot sense, “MeeTha banana hain, to shakkar to dalna padega” .. [If you want to make it sweet..you have to put some sugar].
You know you are missing your home, when you dream of a large feast at your home, with all your relatives, not once but two consecutive nights. I woke up twice last week from a dream, feeling disgusted that I wasn’t served my fav dish during a feast at home. Guys, its official, I miss my lunch, I miss my dinner, I miss the Vidyarthi bhavan dosa, I miss the chats around the corner, I also miss being able to get a cup of coffee ready when I feel like drinking it. I miss my home.
I remember last time around when I had to stay away from known things for a long time, I had a unique fear, the fear of the known,. I was afraid about, how I am gonna take it, when I am back to my known. It kind of made one of the very first posts on my blog here.
But this time around, I think I am missing ‘familiarity’, no not only the ones which I had towards things in Bangalore, but even those towards things which I had here in states during my last visit, the club I used to frequent, the people in my work place there, things I did back then. Why is that I am missing familiarity.
I happened to watch one of the movies titled “Henry & June”, its about the life of a highly controversial author Henry Miller [Tropic of cancer ] . Apart from the NC-17 rating, which kind of prevents people from watching it, the taboo nature of his book puts inhibitions in the viewer’s mind. This movie was recommended highly in a talk show on the channel IFC, and I tried to get hold of this one. One statement about the author sums up his whole life, it goes “He is a man, life intoxicates.”. Leave aside everything else, I would love to be that man, man whom the life intoxicates.
I read this somewhere, not sure where it was. “You fall in love with people’s minds”. Interesting isn’t it?. I have had this feeling many a times, you are speaking to a friend, and he/she makes a statement, and you just fall for the thought. It has made me wonder many a times, how much I have liked the thought, and the mind which actually thought of such a thing. More than the people, its always their minds which we fall in love with.
Guys you remember my blog friend Rusty from “Two A Day” right?, so she had written this short story a few days back, which I was really impressed with. She called it “The Beginning“. I asked her if she could do a part 2 of it, from the view of the women, and she asked me back, if I could do it. This was way back and I have been wanting to do it for long. Finally I got myself to do it, so here it goes..
“It had been months since she started talking to herself, first she found it amusing, because back in her days she hardly liked to speak, she was one of those who preferred few words, and uttered them only if necessary, but now, she found herself being more expressive. She would surprise herself with the physicality of her emotions; she had caught herself smiling at things from a book, or with a lump in her throat, or even for that matter humming her favorite songs loudly. May be it was her unconscious mind trying to fill in the void.
She had never been particular about her ensemble, and her mother always had a problem with that, she was always being told things like how a dupatta completes her salwar, or when she wore western dresses, she was always reminded to throw in a nice pair of high heels along with it. Basically she didn’t care, a feeling of “completion” did not matter to her much, she always believed that she had better things in her life to drive to completion, rather then something as trivial as her look. Like the elusive degree in art she wanted to earn in the city of Paris, or things as simple as a perfect evening in her lawn with a good book, and a cup of tea, with nothing to worry about.
On that day, as she ran down her steps to catch her shawl, which was forced off her, by the wind, she began to introspect what she had become, and what she was. Red shawl completed her attire for the cold evenings she spent on her balcony, and she did not want to lose the comfort of what she had, especially after all other things which were completely beyond her reach right now.
She had all the freedom she wanted, no one to answer to, she had complete independence. she always had wanted this, ability to not depend on anyone, even if it were for deeds which required physical strength, like moving things in her house, or something as trivial as deciding what she would eat that day. At home she had always felt controlled, being told what to do, what to eat, and being taken care of. One could catch her on days moving stuff into her balcony and out of it. She felt idiotic and stupid, because she kind of yearned for that control now, the bondage which she hated so much, she kind of missed it. Without that pull, the freedom felt incomplete, less attractive and less appealing.
Balcony was one place she had gotten absolutely fond of. You could catch her there most of her free time. Reading, cutting vegetables, watching people, living her life. One day as she gazed around the area, she caught a pair of binoculars aimed at her, for a second she got creeped out, immediately rushed back into her kitchen. She did not know how to react, should she be calling police, or call her husband at work. She decided to ignore it, and if it becomes more intrusive she thought about taking some action. One thing she realized was that, she did not want this to ruin one thing she loved the most in her life, her balcony, her window into the blue skies.
Every time she came into the balcony, she kind of glanced to see if she could spot the guy, she would find him on some days and not on others. Slowly she began to feel comfortable with being watched, more importantly she liked it amidst her loneliness, gave her a sense of being looked after and looked at, even though it meant a loss of privacy, at times. Slowly she began to treat the person as being there with her, in her balcony, imagined him responding to her, talking to her, providing her a virtual company, he had become a part of her evenings remotely, ‘his’ presence completed her evenings. Its one of those feelings which she could not categorize as romantic or sexual, it gave her a sense of companionship, and she began to like it.
On that day as her husband piled boxes on top of each other, she stood there with a confused mind, it was going a new place and a new city, and the same old herself, in a way stepping a step back, from being accompanied back to herself. The sense of completeness those unknown eyes brought to her, was something beyond comprehension”
P.S. This will be my last post wrt to my writing experiments and I am going to take a break from all the prompts and attempts. I want to get back to how the blog started more ME, since I am blogging so less these days I want to take this blog to where I started from my life and opinions.
The beautiful white patterns,
Your long handed brush
Strokes onto this open blue sky
Would they be “them”
If it, were a sport?
The twinkles of burning passion,
Reminiscent of the intimacy,
From the times spent with you,
Would they be “them”
If it, were a sport?
The gifts of laughter, he brings us
With his own cleverly hidden smiles,
Moments of pure bliss,
Would they be “them”
If it, were a sport?
The beautiful patterns,
Passions and intimacy,
Laughters and smiles,
Would they be “them”
If life, were a sport?
I must admit this is one of the poems, which I felt like tearing up once I wrote it. Unfortunately MS word does not allow one to tear sheet, wouldn’t I love that feature, Bill are you listening?.
Anyways Sunday Scribblings this time around has given us “sports” and it happens to be 150th prompt there, I feel kind of stupid with my contribution to the prompt though, I had a lot of thoughts on the idea behind the poem, somehow I was not able to express it. Guys I would really appreciate if you can just write a brief note as to what this poem conveyed to you, may be some day I will do a “theory of pursuit” post on this one, and my idea about why life should not be a sport.
On a totally different note, if you guys have seen “What women want”, I liked one commercial for Nike the two lead actors work on in that movie. That line has been in my head since the time I saw the movie when I was in college, here it goes for “Nike, no games, just sport”. I don’t know if Nike ever used this catch line, If I were to head Nike, I would surely use this one.
Prats who writes at Retrospections! Emotional ecology, gave me an idea with here post here. This was a simple exercise which a teacher did at her son’s school, and I thought it would be really good to try it out in the blog world. Its fairly simple, all you have to do is write a single phraze word, or even a comment, or let me make this freestyle, write whatever you feel about “rambler” as an anonymous comment, you could criticize, debate, praise, or anything you want to say. Please make it anonymous.
You are free to try this at your blog, I will surely come around to say what I think about you.
So enough said, let me leave the window open, go ahead, say what you have to say to Rambler, about rambler.
When life frowned upon him
He found comfort,
In her smiles.
Her cheers soothing,
Her spirit taming
Was it that difficult?.
To find comfort in his smiles,
When her’s dried up.
To sooth her disappointments,
Through his cheers.
To tame her blues
Through his spirit.
Bewildering Art of Selfishness.
Topic over at sunday scibblings today is “Art”, and here’s my 55 cents on the subject.
It feels like a long gap, and feels good to be back.
Then was then/Now is now
“How can you eat the same thing for two days in a row, throw it, make something new” / “Ah, this has taken so much of my time, and who is gonna cook now, lets just eat, so what if I ate the same thing last night”
“Mom!..where’s my coffee, I woke up almost 5 minutes back” / “Oh shoot I need to make some fresh coffee and I have 5 mnts before I need to join the conf call”
“Who takes a shower on saturdays, where the hell do I need to go today”/ “Ah I need to go get groceries, let me take a quick shower”
“Guys, I am busy at work, will call you back, may be in the evening”/ “Guys ISD isn’t that expensive, why don’t you try calling me at home”
“Anna [Dad], Amma had made upma for breakfast, I am gonna have some davangere benne masala dosa, wanna join me?”/ “Anna: What did you cook for breakfast today, me: Upma, you know what it was tasty”
“Saturday evening, Guys lets go out for a meal, my treat”/ “Saturday evening, should I spend an hour more in the gym, atleast I get to see people”
“As soon as I get home me thinking, Lets check my google reader, let me blog this one”/ “Tomorrow morning I have an early call, lets cut vegetables and keep them ready for the morning”,
“Ah she looks new to office, must be a fresher”/ “Is she allowed to work still?, shouldn’t they retire or something”
and it continues….