Writing for the heck of it is something I would look forward to doing everyday. Ok, not every, single day but whenever I want to. And that’s usually every other day. But the thought of lugging my laptop out of my cupboard and connecting to the internet is not very interesting. Especially after a long day of battering. Which brings me to another interesting topic of ‘Why do people slog for 30 odd years at a place where peace of mind and sanity are a foreign concept?’ Anyway, will blog about that later.
Prism of thought
Archived Posts from this Category
June 2, 2009
Life’s different moods brings out the diversity in an otherwise stagnant pond. The non descript person you work with turns into a loving parent who moulds the heaven and earth for family dearest when at home. He’s the under graduate student who day-lights as a personal trainer in your local grocery store. She’s a fresher in a corporate company with light in her eyes and dreams of changing her nation by her service. She known as the office b!#$% who has juggling balls at home and worklife; a home loan to pay, small kids, securing their future, juggling family life, namely in-laws and hubby dearest and is forced to protect her job in the way she knows best, water-cooler politics! He’s the darling who’s unable to cope with the big bad world alone when alone. She’s your dear friend struggling to combat loneliness of that the urban world begrudges us, with a smile on her face.
She’s the avante-garde pocket-dynamite with dreams of making it big, rocking the world she inhabits. He’s the starched-collar poet-at-heart stuck in a coding job. He’s the heart broken suit wearing lover who forges ahead determined to get away from a heart wrenching past. Or probably, she’s battering down the keyboard at night trying to find meaning in life by looking up the internet.
She’s the friendly neighbour who has known no security in either home or hearth in 40 years of existence, not life – existence, circumstances forcing her to trust a little less than what God would have liked. He may be the guy who’s moved overseas to pursue higher studies and finds that the developed world is not so developed or life that sunny as he hoped it would be. She’s the born leader, the youngest of them all, though that’s not evident in her mood, language or accomplishments. She’s an adolescent with the same dreams as kids the world-over, learning the world is much more exciting than her mundane existence of poverty and endless drudgery. She’s the rebel who charms the right people into cheering her all the time; most of them so blinded that reason does not have a place in their minds.
He’s the loyal son with a dream to succeed, provide his family the comforts he never had growing up. She’s happy-go-lucky whose lost among a sea of pretenders. He’s a parent in the twilight of his years coming to terms with the harsh realization that ‘now’ does not belong to him. It cares even less about how that hurts. He’s grown into a man who reliance on himself sometimes hurts.
She’s finds strength in searching for love. She’s unselfish, caring, sweet and generous to a fault. She’s brutally honest, she snubs, she’s wild.
May 21, 2008
Everywhere around us we see so many unfulfilled dreams and desires. People who seem to have everything, have nothing that would make them happy. If you have money, you crave for friends; if you have all the comforts, then you probably miss love. If you have too many people to care about you, you want your ‘freedom’ and ’space’. There are so many things that we want and cannot have. Why? Why are we denied? Why do we wear our desires on our sleeve? It dangles like Christmas trinkets, just out of our reach. It drives us crazy.
We are like tides of the sea responding to the moon. It pulls, we long and we suffer. So many unspoken desires that cannot be fulfilled. Or can they be? I often wonder.
June 06
When I was in school, I wanted to be cool like the college kids. When I reached college, I realized, after bunking so many classes, and spending countless hours in the canteen, that I want to be serious and be a professional. Now that I am one, I realize that going to office every day is not enough to have a fulfilling life. There’s no sense of purpose, I don’t know my true calling. The purpose for which I am born, what is it that I’m supposed to do? Surely, there’s something better that I can do than filling up rows and coloumns of excel sheets with words and numbers that do not mean a thing to me.
When I dreamt of being independent, I dreamt of doing exciting stuff. I dreamt of doing great things. Of making a difference to the world and to myself.
I just hope that, I do fulfil my destiny before its too late.
May 5, 2008
I can feel innocence in the questions. The inqusitiveness in those eyes that ask me each time about my work, my well-being. I know this is way her mind works. The small joys of togetherness, of company, is exhibited through an excited innocence that lights up her eyes, her hands, her smile. She needs help to wander about the long and narrow paths in the old house. She is scared of being shut inside a closed, dark room even for a few minutes. She is not by any means frail. She is absolutely stubborn about not eating food and is intent on running around if anybody dare suggest that she should finish her food. She is opinionated about the bitter medicines she’s forced to gulp. Tears streaming down the petal soft face would make any person feeding her feel like monsters. And rightly so, in a way.
But don’t try sympathy all the way. She gives you prudent answers when you least expect it. You grin at her and she grins back with unmistakable but silent triumph. Those are trophy moments. There’s a conversation that has my parents and I in splits everytime we think about it.
My father had returned from Thailand recently and admired the famed Hanuman temples in the area. He was describing it’s beauty and the similarities between the Thai and Indian culture to her over the phone. She listened to in rapt attention and when the time was appropriate to comment, she said, “Yeah, both cultures are so similar” in a very dignified tone like only she can. That really shook us because it was so bittersweet.
When she’s upset, she breaks down into tears, unable to control the rivers of emotion nor the cause or the person that made her cry. She’s helpless, without external support, both, the physical and emotional. She wants to be independent, she wants to do her own things. She’ll want to help you, want to know why you are so upset, surely you’ll need her help, then you’ll be fine. She’ll want to arrange everything around the house to military precision safe and secure in it’s place. She’s tries everytime, but its so difficult to get a grip on things.
She’s helpless in the knowledge that she cannot control what’s happening around her, inside her and subtle changes in relationships. She can’t help being the way she is: helpless, emotionally vulnerable and dependent. And the worst thing is, she’s aware of it.
She’s 65, she has lead a fulfilling and complete life being a daughter, wife, mother to perfection. She now has only the memories and the experiences of the life that she lead to fall back on. In a way, the vulnerability is sweet. But then she has always been sweet to everyone.
The circle of life that starts with childhood (infancy), youth, middleage, oldage ends with childhood. The circle is completed with aid of the dreaded Alzheimer’s disease. It is the most common form of dementia. The symtoms range from forgetfulness to complete disconnect from the people and day-to-day activities happening around them. The clinical definition is much more colder than it actually is.
You react the way you would with a child. You keep the same patience, the same love that you would shower on a child. You have to let go of the thought that tells you that this is the same person who you looked upto a few years ago. That is the only way to reduce the torment on the person and on yourself. There is no other way. There is no miracle cure – no medicines, no surgery, no magic. Patience is truly a virtue.
May 2, 2008
What is life? Is it a means to an end or quite the reverse? And what is the end that we are referring to? Death, achievement of a goal, attaining salvation (phew!!). Or, as it seems to me, is it just getting by ’somehow’. Trying one’s luck out on a day to day basis. U hit good things on a good day, on other days, you don’t. Unfortunately, the success rate is not very encouraging for me to feel comfortable in this situation. But then again, the success rate of a lot of systems in this world is pretty much disappointing. Anyway, coming back, Is everybody happy with this kind of a temporary hit-or-miss arrangement or am I the weirdo who simply doesn’t get the working of the world. Is nothing ever permanent? Is everything permanent; we just don’t know it yet? What does it take to be happy? Is it dependent on a job, colleagues, friends, security or does it come from within. What are the things in this world that one can take for granted – is it parents, friends, your freedom, your thoughts -good, bad, your job (if u handle it right). I think that is the key, handling it right. How? That is a heavy question, the right answer would be, ‘It depends’. On what? On each person, circumstance, frame of mind, attitude and who knows even on starsigns 
