I know, I love to brag a lot and exaggerate things..call it the celluloid effect, I think big, try and imagine big, everything has to be grand and ooh-so-happening. The outcome has not been pleasant always.My level of expectations has just about shot up so high that disappointment is a hard lump in the throat reality. It's again very different from the pursuit of picture perfect happiness.
What is that I really want, without settling for anything second best and compromising on my choice and discretion.No idea whatsoever.
Anyway, figured some basic things out tho'...
Keep mom and dad always smiling and wrinkle/crinkle free, in plain terms, happy and tensionless.This is not as simple as it seems to me even with my kinda track record. I am so obedient, god-fearing, helpful,miss goody two shoes sorts, won't drink,smoke blah blah, not a frugal spender :( my books and STD bills. I have never asked for pocket money from Dad the day I began working, that he wants to give me even after i am earning is a different story.
I am proud of my growing up years, where I would run home and do that extra 1.5 hours of tuitions to a few colony kids for that thousand rupees a month to sustain my ever spiralling expenses, you see, better time utilisation.I chose to miss that afternoon soap and movie and meeting/playing in the evening gave me solace.I would skip a 200 times to gain in height.
That labour into how to HCF and LCM and do your fractions and underline the verbs and put the prepositions changed to writing essays and RTCs, all for that fierce financial independence on how to manage and feel good earning your money.
Money needs to be spent but where and how??Priorities and needs play an important role.Saving for the rainy day, saving for that one grand gift you want to buy your loved one(s), getting a utility item and henceforth...
Happiness in small packets, big sizes and huge surprises come your way, grab them all,they may never be so generous ever.
Have a blue-print of what i want immediately,I need to pay my bills and buy my books, i need to study some more until I am tired and decide to earn a fortune. I am looking for the proverbial but elusive philosopher's stone that should take me places.
I will have no boyfriend for another couple of years until I am ready to take the carefully and willfully planned plunge.Prufrock said, he will grow old and he will grow old and he shall wear his trousers rolled.
It's an ageless wonder why we get confused over hearty matters, it's so hilarious given the champions that we are in charming/winning and ditching and playing agony aunt. The grass is always definitely greener on the other side.
I have devoured the sun, the moon and the galaxy in going pompous and egoistic just to prove my point that i seriously do possess the largest ego in the universe. But the times, they are a changing...I have given up on it and i am happier, I go over the moon about my sunny disposition.
Less melodrama, bigger bridges, small achievements,that's my bigger life.
Smiles.
Patchwork
I met with indifference, I defeated that with persuasion.Smiles and smiles, sometimes that can be misread-you are either dumb, appear to be or you are agreeable.Does being rude and firm help?? If a request cannot be appreciated, then arm twisting tactics are not welcome either.Anyway, any assumption is OK as long as your rootedness is not removed, let's keep human rights/assessment/judgment out of it.Sometimes, the other person's ignorance can be BLISS and cannot be blissful.Ouch!!
It's a week now, away from the familiar driver honks and curry pata, the ammas and the akkas and everything that describes what I call a temporary home away from home. It's a bizarre feeling of happiness or confused thrill to live life out of a suitcase.My laundry, upkeep of my den and my food taken care of in almost religious loyalty by a bunch of dedicated souls for a living back home. All of us are similar in the respect of a forever displaced sense, away from the familiar.It is up to us, what we do with where we are and all that. I love the getting away from the familiar and the brief interlude, it does you a world of good.
You have only you and no other support system per se.You have a phone which becomes more important than your life, there are some regular compulsory calls that you cannot do without. Getting home before the cows and the sun do is a major competition, I lose most times. The crash and bang of headlights, life gets cheaper than share prices. The rickshaw puller needs to hang on for a couple more people to make his day's wages meet his needs, his feet are frozen and heels cracked but his work must go on.
The watchman is warmly padded and never fails to say "good morning, madam" but he also wishes to be lost in the slumber of warmth in this chilly weather but the call of duty,or is it Karma??
Talking of karma is like dharma. Playing with loaded words is dangerous and more so, if you are not comfortable with what you are playing with. I keep it simple, I don't need any sadhguru to explain this to me, this is what I learnt from life in general. Karma is what you do, so do it right and Dharma is what you ought to do, so do it right.In any case, you have to do it right, right??
Ok, that's about it.
Life is not all dal and vegetables, it's amusing too with the anthropological confusion you can throw people at. It's not all that jazz all the time but it's a different perspective, and that is an experience for a lifetime, it is scary and one can get scarred. Any remedy other than playing safe, being careful and being a brave chicken??
Seeking answers.
It's a week now, away from the familiar driver honks and curry pata, the ammas and the akkas and everything that describes what I call a temporary home away from home. It's a bizarre feeling of happiness or confused thrill to live life out of a suitcase.My laundry, upkeep of my den and my food taken care of in almost religious loyalty by a bunch of dedicated souls for a living back home. All of us are similar in the respect of a forever displaced sense, away from the familiar.It is up to us, what we do with where we are and all that. I love the getting away from the familiar and the brief interlude, it does you a world of good.
You have only you and no other support system per se.You have a phone which becomes more important than your life, there are some regular compulsory calls that you cannot do without. Getting home before the cows and the sun do is a major competition, I lose most times. The crash and bang of headlights, life gets cheaper than share prices. The rickshaw puller needs to hang on for a couple more people to make his day's wages meet his needs, his feet are frozen and heels cracked but his work must go on.
The watchman is warmly padded and never fails to say "good morning, madam" but he also wishes to be lost in the slumber of warmth in this chilly weather but the call of duty,or is it Karma??
Talking of karma is like dharma. Playing with loaded words is dangerous and more so, if you are not comfortable with what you are playing with. I keep it simple, I don't need any sadhguru to explain this to me, this is what I learnt from life in general. Karma is what you do, so do it right and Dharma is what you ought to do, so do it right.In any case, you have to do it right, right??
Ok, that's about it.
Life is not all dal and vegetables, it's amusing too with the anthropological confusion you can throw people at. It's not all that jazz all the time but it's a different perspective, and that is an experience for a lifetime, it is scary and one can get scarred. Any remedy other than playing safe, being careful and being a brave chicken??
Seeking answers.
Flights of whimtasy
On board the airbus, the stewardess strikes a professional pose and asks me, "madam, veg or non-veg," loud enough for the whole aircraft to hear, I smile at her and give my preference.
I had asked for a window seat or an aisle seat, hard luck the options were equally bad!!So, i travel sandwiched between a European gentleman and a young techie who was one his way to the States. He seemed super excited, he even remarked that the earphones would come in a pouch, what had become of them, displaying familiarity earns you brownie points and more smiles per hour. Trying to get started with the air premiere of Lage Raho Munnabhai was a comedy in itself,everyone was laughing aloud oblivious to the fact that no one heard them, :D
I jacked the earphones and went off to sleep, when I woke up food was being served and madame in short skirts asked me tea or coffee, black tea any day.The dragging of the food cart and the petulant demands of my co-passengers make this hospitality in the air a sad job, I don't feel it's rewarding in a wholesome manner except for the free travel from here and there. The diva like countenance and the layer of pancake, the 2/3 min sari wearing time, those nicely done hair, flashy pearlies and dazzling smiles are all good, very good and nice indeed but given the primitive mess of a discriminatingly male dominated whatever, I wonder how many of us really feel good about a profession like this.It's not all eyewash or hogwash but you always have a flip side.
I am pretty sure of the tilted ratio and preference of young girls, smartness and confidence notwithstanding by certain fliers. Not a bad scene since the concerted efforts are to maintain a healthy Customer Satisfaction. Anyway, a couple of suited-booted grumpy males gave some unnecessary trouble to the lady in short skirts, patient she was. When suggestion time came, yours truly was totally and not unceremoniously though, ignored over some tweed clad loudmouth, who spoke in a fake pseudo accent of some fringe LA county. Ok, I am not depressed at the state of affairs, hehe. I am practicing my smiles and my generosity with ignorant lesser mortals, simply ignore!!
Girl in short skirts must have been around 21/22. Just a wild thought, what would it be like if there was tipping in the aviation industry, how self-esteem(s) would be outraged and blah blah!!
She got a nasty suggestion, improve your body language, be more forthcoming and I like your smile kinds, I quite forgot to react at the reaction coz' all that she asked was in black and white and not a loud declaration, sad looneys!! Anyway, all I would have put is "No complaints, amazing service!!" She deprived me and that deprived me in some way of a duty/responsibility.
She was more than happy to have all of us thrown off board when our destination arrived. Having to deal with an airbus of mad people who all have their side of success stories and attitude full of temperaments is not an unusual cup of tea for her and her ilk. I admire her calmness and that gentle red that fades into anger management and a forced smile for the sake of greater things in the pipeline.
Smiles,not triumphant today.
I had asked for a window seat or an aisle seat, hard luck the options were equally bad!!So, i travel sandwiched between a European gentleman and a young techie who was one his way to the States. He seemed super excited, he even remarked that the earphones would come in a pouch, what had become of them, displaying familiarity earns you brownie points and more smiles per hour. Trying to get started with the air premiere of Lage Raho Munnabhai was a comedy in itself,everyone was laughing aloud oblivious to the fact that no one heard them, :D
I jacked the earphones and went off to sleep, when I woke up food was being served and madame in short skirts asked me tea or coffee, black tea any day.The dragging of the food cart and the petulant demands of my co-passengers make this hospitality in the air a sad job, I don't feel it's rewarding in a wholesome manner except for the free travel from here and there. The diva like countenance and the layer of pancake, the 2/3 min sari wearing time, those nicely done hair, flashy pearlies and dazzling smiles are all good, very good and nice indeed but given the primitive mess of a discriminatingly male dominated whatever, I wonder how many of us really feel good about a profession like this.It's not all eyewash or hogwash but you always have a flip side.
I am pretty sure of the tilted ratio and preference of young girls, smartness and confidence notwithstanding by certain fliers. Not a bad scene since the concerted efforts are to maintain a healthy Customer Satisfaction. Anyway, a couple of suited-booted grumpy males gave some unnecessary trouble to the lady in short skirts, patient she was. When suggestion time came, yours truly was totally and not unceremoniously though, ignored over some tweed clad loudmouth, who spoke in a fake pseudo accent of some fringe LA county. Ok, I am not depressed at the state of affairs, hehe. I am practicing my smiles and my generosity with ignorant lesser mortals, simply ignore!!
Girl in short skirts must have been around 21/22. Just a wild thought, what would it be like if there was tipping in the aviation industry, how self-esteem(s) would be outraged and blah blah!!
She got a nasty suggestion, improve your body language, be more forthcoming and I like your smile kinds, I quite forgot to react at the reaction coz' all that she asked was in black and white and not a loud declaration, sad looneys!! Anyway, all I would have put is "No complaints, amazing service!!" She deprived me and that deprived me in some way of a duty/responsibility.
She was more than happy to have all of us thrown off board when our destination arrived. Having to deal with an airbus of mad people who all have their side of success stories and attitude full of temperaments is not an unusual cup of tea for her and her ilk. I admire her calmness and that gentle red that fades into anger management and a forced smile for the sake of greater things in the pipeline.
Smiles,not triumphant today.
Mundane
The mundane happens, you breathe, you eat, you work for a living/to kill time/waiting for some breakthrough and whatever.
Even the commonplace forgets to remind you that it has taken place and you forgot to register. Sometimes what you write also no longer matters because it is understood you write and you know it is not a new thing. You forget to answer calls or choose to forget, let's ignore that. You have canned answers to some phone calls, you don't know what to speak and what if you tell the truth...
As cells turn grey and seconds trickle to hours and days to years, you simply lose the edge over your pet peeves too. It is kinda sad to see all bright things dull and drab. How do you recover from eternal lethargic fits and intolerable indifference??
I don't know, it's so easy to give you such an answer, it's my favourite answer, hassle-free and free of income tax!!
The classic who/what/why/when/where/how irritates me to no end now, I know what a curious and inquisitive+precocious irritation I might have been to many. Sorries to all my tormented friends, Indians and acquaintances, my heartfelt apologies.
Just let it go, let it go and let it go- that's what the gyaanis, sadhus,sadh gurus say, smile and be content, start practising this and that, say this to yourself and you will feel better and yeah, you do feel better at times. Stop looking around for happiness and be happy is the mantra, forgive and forget, lead a healthy and positive life, spread good vibes and be picture perfect :)
If you are not satisfied with anything,can you do anything?? Yes, keep quiet for a while...I do that and then storm the issue, it's the last man standing kinda wrestling match, do or die.
Of course, a lot is at stake but it satisfies than being mundane.
Smiles.
Even the commonplace forgets to remind you that it has taken place and you forgot to register. Sometimes what you write also no longer matters because it is understood you write and you know it is not a new thing. You forget to answer calls or choose to forget, let's ignore that. You have canned answers to some phone calls, you don't know what to speak and what if you tell the truth...
As cells turn grey and seconds trickle to hours and days to years, you simply lose the edge over your pet peeves too. It is kinda sad to see all bright things dull and drab. How do you recover from eternal lethargic fits and intolerable indifference??
I don't know, it's so easy to give you such an answer, it's my favourite answer, hassle-free and free of income tax!!
The classic who/what/why/when/where/how irritates me to no end now, I know what a curious and inquisitive+precocious irritation I might have been to many. Sorries to all my tormented friends, Indians and acquaintances, my heartfelt apologies.
Just let it go, let it go and let it go- that's what the gyaanis, sadhus,sadh gurus say, smile and be content, start practising this and that, say this to yourself and you will feel better and yeah, you do feel better at times. Stop looking around for happiness and be happy is the mantra, forgive and forget, lead a healthy and positive life, spread good vibes and be picture perfect :)
If you are not satisfied with anything,can you do anything?? Yes, keep quiet for a while...I do that and then storm the issue, it's the last man standing kinda wrestling match, do or die.
Of course, a lot is at stake but it satisfies than being mundane.
Smiles.
A cup of tea
Some short and great stories have seen the light of the 'tube', if I may say so thanks to that cup of tea. It's amazing how much takes place over an innocuous beverage rated by the world as not so happening at least over it's elite cousin, coffee.
My dad would take 17cups a day until blood sugar problems seeped in. He would only place the command 'Tea,please' and mom, my sister or I would rush with his tumbler of 'phika cha', no milk and generous sugar. Those days, at least, I cribbed a lot at his tea fascination and I would threaten mom to get him that thermo-flask and keep 20 cups ready and waiting, with a jar of sugar and a packet of tea leaves, if possible tez pata( bay leaves),ginger and whatever.My dad would ask us to take up the art of having tea all the time, after every major meal also!! But one peculiarity, he never had tea anywhere outside, let it be my uncle's or his in-laws unless it is prepared by one of us!!Tea-stalls, restaurants, let's leave them :)
Mom has religiously enjoyed her cup of tea, flavored with a slice of lemon and a pinch of salt, at times with pepper and a twig of mint,and also, she experimented the sugar bit with honey,molasses and jaggery
I never learnt having tea, I found it horrid and often rated my jar of milk anyway, higher than that.So does my bro.
My sis is an off and on consumer of tea, not particularly faddish but does not mind a cup when the crowd is big and especially ,if she happens to prepare.
My office boy in my college is a wannabe, takes good care of his skin and constitution hoping to make it to some dance reality show.He earns a pittance but saves enough to learn professional dance three times a week and wears brand duplicates to look chic.I asked him to get a cup of tea for himself one day for an errand, he said,
"No mem!! I want to be fair..."
"Ok?"
"Chai peene se, kaala hota hai."
"Ok, I didn't know that,ahan..."
I began my affair with tea recently when Dad was diagnosed with diabetes.I felt very bad about it especially when you know he was going to give up something he loved so much.His face kinda shrunk and he looked very helpless when the doctor told him he has to have it sugar-free!!How ruthless can you be!!I pleaded with the doctor if there was something that could be done, maybe Sugar free tea,maybe...
The doctor was ok-ok with the sugar-free idea, I gave in, I went and got a can of sugar free pills, Dad lit up and his affair with tea was revived, albeit under tremendous control and monitoring. But that charm was lost of having tea with natural sugar.I decided to be a part of that collective agony, decided to have tea and mourn.
I began having tea without sugar just to tell Dad that it's not all bad. He will not budge and refuses to comment.I had friends from the gardens who would go on and on about the this and that of tea.I used to be bored to death when they began their tea gupshup. Anyway, it was a trip down memory lane when I called them up and wished for an audience and they gave me the beginner's induction to tea by giving me a pound of garden fresh tea leaves, organic tea and green tea.I was thrilled at my treasure and thanks Dad, I am an avid fan of tea today.
The experts say tea should be brewed on moderate flame and never boiled.Stir and stir patiently. Tea should be tasted without sugar and milk, that's the actual flavor of tea.
Now, I take 7 cups of tea in a day, I love them, even if they are Tetley bags, who cares??
My dad would take 17cups a day until blood sugar problems seeped in. He would only place the command 'Tea,please' and mom, my sister or I would rush with his tumbler of 'phika cha', no milk and generous sugar. Those days, at least, I cribbed a lot at his tea fascination and I would threaten mom to get him that thermo-flask and keep 20 cups ready and waiting, with a jar of sugar and a packet of tea leaves, if possible tez pata( bay leaves),ginger and whatever.My dad would ask us to take up the art of having tea all the time, after every major meal also!! But one peculiarity, he never had tea anywhere outside, let it be my uncle's or his in-laws unless it is prepared by one of us!!Tea-stalls, restaurants, let's leave them :)
Mom has religiously enjoyed her cup of tea, flavored with a slice of lemon and a pinch of salt, at times with pepper and a twig of mint,and also, she experimented the sugar bit with honey,molasses and jaggery
I never learnt having tea, I found it horrid and often rated my jar of milk anyway, higher than that.So does my bro.
My sis is an off and on consumer of tea, not particularly faddish but does not mind a cup when the crowd is big and especially ,if she happens to prepare.
My office boy in my college is a wannabe, takes good care of his skin and constitution hoping to make it to some dance reality show.He earns a pittance but saves enough to learn professional dance three times a week and wears brand duplicates to look chic.I asked him to get a cup of tea for himself one day for an errand, he said,
"No mem!! I want to be fair..."
"Ok?"
"Chai peene se, kaala hota hai."
"Ok, I didn't know that,ahan..."
I began my affair with tea recently when Dad was diagnosed with diabetes.I felt very bad about it especially when you know he was going to give up something he loved so much.His face kinda shrunk and he looked very helpless when the doctor told him he has to have it sugar-free!!How ruthless can you be!!I pleaded with the doctor if there was something that could be done, maybe Sugar free tea,maybe...
The doctor was ok-ok with the sugar-free idea, I gave in, I went and got a can of sugar free pills, Dad lit up and his affair with tea was revived, albeit under tremendous control and monitoring. But that charm was lost of having tea with natural sugar.I decided to be a part of that collective agony, decided to have tea and mourn.
I began having tea without sugar just to tell Dad that it's not all bad. He will not budge and refuses to comment.I had friends from the gardens who would go on and on about the this and that of tea.I used to be bored to death when they began their tea gupshup. Anyway, it was a trip down memory lane when I called them up and wished for an audience and they gave me the beginner's induction to tea by giving me a pound of garden fresh tea leaves, organic tea and green tea.I was thrilled at my treasure and thanks Dad, I am an avid fan of tea today.
The experts say tea should be brewed on moderate flame and never boiled.Stir and stir patiently. Tea should be tasted without sugar and milk, that's the actual flavor of tea.
Now, I take 7 cups of tea in a day, I love them, even if they are Tetley bags, who cares??
Blogging
Has blogging become a compulsive fashion?? I think so and I don't think so. There is a certain level of expectation when you begin writing and others are forced to read or happen to read what you write. The results may be disastrous and encouraging at the same time.
Some days you are so happening and prolific and the rest of the days, thoroughly consumed and rigid to even feel bad wasting precious energy and interest to post some tasteless mindless mumbo-jumbo calling it creativity with rampant misuse of poetic licence.
The art of diary writing has taken a huge turnover after Anne Frank's heart wrenching diary in the 2nd Great War and of course, let's not forget the light humored Bridget Jones' and Adrian Moles series.
If I was making diary entries, half my efforts and self-humor would have gone to the waste bin.Call it modesty or a show of modesty, we are a lot more honest when it comes to diary writing.You know where to hide it and whom to show and what you feel about it.I have half a dozen of ramblings with no sequence of time and whatever.Just jot when you feel like, it could be a poem, a 3-liner or a long story cut short or an incomplete tale at times.I also have the option of scribbling and tearing and seeing my triumphant destruction of the evidence of stupidity and craziness in the bin in bits and pieces, you feel so good when something you don't like goes to the bin in such a grand way.
Blogging has made me a lot conscious, I don't know if it is a good thing to happen or a natural one or the bug of a new tech introduction.However, I don't know how long this fever last will, I mean writing.
I am yet to act on the suggestions and blogging accessories and tips given by well-wishers.I will take my time to educate myself gradually.I am beginning to get jittery with the kind of writing prompt as in I have a terrible tendency to go poignant and it is a very natural outcome beyond my control.Not in the league to be a tearjerker influence I will try and get variety conscious.
Yes, I will. Half the time I end up speaking to myself and to some invisible audience whose response is taken for granted.Words flow like water, I won't say but yes, they don't desert me when I need them.People say I play games with words, wish I could!!
I have no clue how long this is going to sustain my exile from pen and paper, I had a ceasefire of sorts with them this year in the beginning and promised them to leave something for them everyday but I am yet to begin my affair with them.
So much has been said and written about writing, some do it for pleasure, some for money while you have some who do it for the pure fun of multi-tasking and welcome release from the whatever of life.I love writing for the heck of it.It is a a sort of talking with the self and breaking your head with the most difficult person around.You know your shortcomings even when your soul is dead and you know you are the clearest mirror to reflect than your conscience can. Writing only urges you to come to terms in a painless(it can be heavily painful too) way.Even people who are 'handicapped' of expression thanks to a thousand reasons not necessarily physical love to write and are thrilled to be rid of the anxiety of the inability of communication.The written word is no longer yours nor can you change perspectives and moments even when you erase content using a Nataraj eraser or hit the backspace key.Truth remains and is long past destruction.
Blogging can allow you to release knowing very well there are a number of unknown faces and eyes viewing your page and nodding their heads anonymously wishing this person should have gone to some planet or better still, they want to meet this young/not-so-young Nobel/Pulitzer/Booker potential.The distance and the widespread of our planet which is almost galaxy-gigantic saves us the blushes.In the process you earn new friends and exchange better vision albeit virtually and get Utopic.
Not bad.
Some days you are so happening and prolific and the rest of the days, thoroughly consumed and rigid to even feel bad wasting precious energy and interest to post some tasteless mindless mumbo-jumbo calling it creativity with rampant misuse of poetic licence.
The art of diary writing has taken a huge turnover after Anne Frank's heart wrenching diary in the 2nd Great War and of course, let's not forget the light humored Bridget Jones' and Adrian Moles series.
If I was making diary entries, half my efforts and self-humor would have gone to the waste bin.Call it modesty or a show of modesty, we are a lot more honest when it comes to diary writing.You know where to hide it and whom to show and what you feel about it.I have half a dozen of ramblings with no sequence of time and whatever.Just jot when you feel like, it could be a poem, a 3-liner or a long story cut short or an incomplete tale at times.I also have the option of scribbling and tearing and seeing my triumphant destruction of the evidence of stupidity and craziness in the bin in bits and pieces, you feel so good when something you don't like goes to the bin in such a grand way.
Blogging has made me a lot conscious, I don't know if it is a good thing to happen or a natural one or the bug of a new tech introduction.However, I don't know how long this fever last will, I mean writing.
I am yet to act on the suggestions and blogging accessories and tips given by well-wishers.I will take my time to educate myself gradually.I am beginning to get jittery with the kind of writing prompt as in I have a terrible tendency to go poignant and it is a very natural outcome beyond my control.Not in the league to be a tearjerker influence I will try and get variety conscious.
Yes, I will. Half the time I end up speaking to myself and to some invisible audience whose response is taken for granted.Words flow like water, I won't say but yes, they don't desert me when I need them.People say I play games with words, wish I could!!
I have no clue how long this is going to sustain my exile from pen and paper, I had a ceasefire of sorts with them this year in the beginning and promised them to leave something for them everyday but I am yet to begin my affair with them.
So much has been said and written about writing, some do it for pleasure, some for money while you have some who do it for the pure fun of multi-tasking and welcome release from the whatever of life.I love writing for the heck of it.It is a a sort of talking with the self and breaking your head with the most difficult person around.You know your shortcomings even when your soul is dead and you know you are the clearest mirror to reflect than your conscience can. Writing only urges you to come to terms in a painless(it can be heavily painful too) way.Even people who are 'handicapped' of expression thanks to a thousand reasons not necessarily physical love to write and are thrilled to be rid of the anxiety of the inability of communication.The written word is no longer yours nor can you change perspectives and moments even when you erase content using a Nataraj eraser or hit the backspace key.Truth remains and is long past destruction.
Blogging can allow you to release knowing very well there are a number of unknown faces and eyes viewing your page and nodding their heads anonymously wishing this person should have gone to some planet or better still, they want to meet this young/not-so-young Nobel/Pulitzer/Booker potential.The distance and the widespread of our planet which is almost galaxy-gigantic saves us the blushes.In the process you earn new friends and exchange better vision albeit virtually and get Utopic.
Not bad.
Role games that we play
So many small moments and trivial thoughts burden you knowing very well that despite bothering so much or breaking your head, they just don't go away.
The burden of playing roles and living them properly is a painful one. In cinematic language, we call it getting into the skin of the character.
Our plight is like God in whose name all the denominations and religions fight holy wars and crusades.A friend of mine explained to her 9 year old son who God is- " Son, your papa calls me Mini, you call me Mama,your grandpa and grandma call me Sweety.To your uncles and aunts,I am Mini-chi and your cousins,Tim and Ria call me Mini-aunty."
"So many names,one person!!"
"Exactly, have I changed for anyone???"
I could not agree more.Life is a huge play, you become tragic at times and overflowing with comic humor and pathos with the way life treats you. Often, you are overcome with tragedy only to tide it over with moving on and doing the same mundane stuff and doing something different to cheer yourself.
A lil' girl grows up like a cocooned soldier for whom to be careful was more important than being adventurous.She went along life's way where the good word was if you cannot be good, try and be careful.
Listening to her folks comes like breathing to her and also,violating their word too.She is an amazing sister and a caring daughter.
She is a great friend, you just have to call her up and she is there for you.She is a gorgeous woman I know and she is a fiercely protective lover, I can bridesmaid-vouch for her.
She is a superwoman at work and also, studies a lot like you and me.
How many heartbreaks and heartaches I cannot anticipate, she cannot play God but she is not less than a Goddess, she is my Diva.
I talk to her for hours everyday, fight with her and also, tell her as I'm scribbling some insignificant letters that all will be well, she can fulfill her dreams without having to lose her sleep and also, so many people love her, their prayers surely will lead her through the tide.
She does not know if she should let others know what she thinks about them, she definitely cares a lot but has anyone thought about what she goes through trying to play her roles efficiently?So many expectations and just one frail body and a mighty heart and a generous soul.
I know you have your protected world, your frustrations and there are days when you just wish you could run away to some den, almost magically.You just wish you could do all the judging for one day and not let people talk about it or ever mention again.You just want a royal treatment for some whimsical reason and still laugh off to sleep.
I have seen her tending to her hurts all by herself and not telling anyone what and how she feels.
She makes mistakes just enough to learn from them and not regret them.
Have you met her lately??
The burden of playing roles and living them properly is a painful one. In cinematic language, we call it getting into the skin of the character.
Our plight is like God in whose name all the denominations and religions fight holy wars and crusades.A friend of mine explained to her 9 year old son who God is- " Son, your papa calls me Mini, you call me Mama,your grandpa and grandma call me Sweety.To your uncles and aunts,I am Mini-chi and your cousins,Tim and Ria call me Mini-aunty."
"So many names,one person!!"
"Exactly, have I changed for anyone???"
I could not agree more.Life is a huge play, you become tragic at times and overflowing with comic humor and pathos with the way life treats you. Often, you are overcome with tragedy only to tide it over with moving on and doing the same mundane stuff and doing something different to cheer yourself.
A lil' girl grows up like a cocooned soldier for whom to be careful was more important than being adventurous.She went along life's way where the good word was if you cannot be good, try and be careful.
Listening to her folks comes like breathing to her and also,violating their word too.She is an amazing sister and a caring daughter.
She is a great friend, you just have to call her up and she is there for you.She is a gorgeous woman I know and she is a fiercely protective lover, I can bridesmaid-vouch for her.
She is a superwoman at work and also, studies a lot like you and me.
How many heartbreaks and heartaches I cannot anticipate, she cannot play God but she is not less than a Goddess, she is my Diva.
I talk to her for hours everyday, fight with her and also, tell her as I'm scribbling some insignificant letters that all will be well, she can fulfill her dreams without having to lose her sleep and also, so many people love her, their prayers surely will lead her through the tide.
She does not know if she should let others know what she thinks about them, she definitely cares a lot but has anyone thought about what she goes through trying to play her roles efficiently?So many expectations and just one frail body and a mighty heart and a generous soul.
I know you have your protected world, your frustrations and there are days when you just wish you could run away to some den, almost magically.You just wish you could do all the judging for one day and not let people talk about it or ever mention again.You just want a royal treatment for some whimsical reason and still laugh off to sleep.
I have seen her tending to her hurts all by herself and not telling anyone what and how she feels.
She makes mistakes just enough to learn from them and not regret them.
Have you met her lately??
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