30 June, 2009
Little moments of fun extracted from everyday life, are what I live for, don’t we all?
Some moments of laughter or amusement even if they are at our expense, as long as they spread smiles...
And when I look back into the recent times many such epiphanies stand out more menacingly than the rest, bringing a dubious grin on my face and so I thought I’d share here one...
Hmm...No news here that I loooove my evening walks...a sojourn into ultimate peace and oneness with myself and my surroundings...
However, of late I had a stalker...
I mean if he was worth any mettle he would have been glorified here for having the guts and good taste to do so...but since he was not...I thought let me slaughter him here with my words at least...
So this guy for two days kind of followed me in his white Santro car with an outstation number and outlandishly tinted glasses of the windows...He would stop the car on the left side of the road just a few steps ahead of me (I would have told you precisely how many yards or metres or whatever ahead...but I have more than once established my affinity with numbers...so I’d let it pass lest it baffles you more than I already do). Ok so where were we...right, he would halt his car and wait for me to cross over and then within minutes repeat the drill, much to my annoyance...Matlab ki I know I have a pretty face why waste time on the rear view phir...I knew it then and there that the guy was dumb...!
Still, I thought why to take pangas and let it pass...I crossed over to the right side of the street to avoid him but it did not deter the nut-head and after 5-6 times of doing this obnoxious act, I guess better things called on him and he decided to let go...Wonder if he read my earlier blog on ‘let go’ and hence got motivated...Anyways, the next day too he re-acted the audacity.
So I did what most sensible and coy housewives would do after returning home...told my dearly beloved. And he did what most senseless and lazy husbands would do...told me stop going for the walks...Thankfully he added there- ‘till I return from my tour’ or else he would have not been able to go to that one getting me all volcanic. I reflected upon his brilliant solution... should I wait for his return? I mean in all probability he would not be tearing his shirt, with a Sunny Deol yell of ‘kutte kamine’ and next tear the entrails of that poor soul...
Hmm...So I thought it was time for some girl power to surface...ok, ok...some woman power to be stirred into me!
Enough of ‘abla’ naari syndrome...it had to be the ‘able’ naari now...
So a feisty me on last Sunday evening decided to adorn the garbs of Jhansi ke raani...well, not literally of course...more like Kanpur ke raani...and started off with all my grit to teach the bugger a lesson. I decided to take my umbrella along just in case I might desire to get wild and violent...not like you think, so please rest your naughty minds.
So in one hand I had my iPod with earphones plugged in, in the second I had my mobile phone and please don’t ask me how I managed to hold on to the umbrella...some things are so complicated that they are better left unsaid...
And I walked...
Chidwaane waale log tayyar the but cheedne waale he nahi aaye....
Hmm...Very anti climax-tic I know...
But the guy just went whoosh...
And I with my army of weapons and freshly rehearsed and improvised stock of abuses had no choice but to return with a long face...Imagine how kings felt when they returned empty handed from the battle fields...bina maar dhad ke...!
I so wanted to show some beauty, brains and brawns to him...maybe even maaro that dialogue... “Aapke ghar mein ma behen nahi hain kya?”...just to see if it really works in real life...
But alas! Dil ke armaan aansoon mein beh gaye....!
Probably he realized that third time/day is not lucky or the cosmos conspired to let my malicious vibrations reach to him and made him quit Kanpur ke dharti...
Whatever...no stunts and actions transpired, so I all perspired and returned home completely fired....Bad rhymes, good sentiment expression! So the able naari was told to settle down and wait for another opportune moment...
Until she is back again...happy and safe stalking and being stalked to all of you!
28 June, 2009
In life we live in big bubbles of sorts...said a dear friend of mine when he was consoling me recently with life’s gyan. So it is, I reflected! When one of it bursts, we latch on to another...we are tuned to look for cosy zones to snug up to, in regardless of testing them first if they are for real or just with us in transition. So pop goes one bubble and we search or create other ones in belief that these might not burst.
Well, I am talking of a 360 degrees turn in my opinion...for having just a couple of days before written my guts out on bad friendships...it is amazing that I have discovered or realized all over again- great ones are around still, to more than make up. Someone once said I was a bundle of contradictions...seems like I am hell bent on proving it right.
If one trust gets broken somewhere...god opens other windows and doors for you to explore...This was not said by any wise friend...it has been repeated and used and misused so many times everywhere that the statement has lost its import...yet it has the whole grain of truth! Just as there are people out there to take advantage so are also human specimens that add colour and meaning...They provide friendships that you may see yourself getting old with...no detouring to love here, just a sauntering into the private zones of layers of you and help you unfold.
And great friendships are just that-a great exhilarating high!
They make you live life queen or king size because you know someone is there to cater to your whims and fancies. You know these friends would side by you whether you break down and cry or rot and wry. You keep the other fit by taking him or her on perpetual rides up the gum tree-the famous chane ka jhaadh, by constant realizing and appreciating what the other has to offer! They make you forget you had been glum or dumb...or even numb to such overtures...They bring peace to your mind that is otherwise so used to wandering, that this breather comes like a whiff of fresh air...that uplifts you in more than one ways!
See...healthy for the body and mind! Wonder why doctors don’t prescribe it to patients, especially depressed souls?
Hmm...How the body you may ask? Well, good friends make you laugh, not just your blues away but also lead to blood flow. “Hum khoon badhate hain” should be the slogan of friendship sites...and imagine the fitness level when all the facial expressions get involved in constant jabbering and smiling...the arms keep getting extended for hugs that we never get enough of...the rushing of blood... and the keeping us on our toes so that when there is the need for a friend to walk in, we may not be found lacking!
Good friendships are just that-too good!
May we all find our friendships to live with and die for!
Relationships are great boosters and bummers...
They help you bloom and can cause you to wither...
Whom we choose to walk by our side as we traverse life, actually determines our quantum of peace and content.
It is said we can’t choose our relations...we are born with them and cling along regardless of how well or otherwise we gel or how mutually beneficial is the association. But then we can choose our friends-people who stick with us through thick and thin or so we hope!
I beg to differ...we don’t choose nothing...!
It’s all a bloody crap...!
It is ‘they’ who choose us! Victims never walk up to the hunters to be slaughtered...we are caught at our unawares!
We may want to be with a chalked out set of people... give our all in such relationships and give, give, give...till the point we begin to feel drained and yet remain wanting for some spark of a return gesture. It’s not that we conspire friendships for give-and-take...it’s not the quantity or frequency of communication either that we look out for...it’s the quality of association being meaningful on both sides. We want, crave and pine to have friends like on the series ‘Friends’...but then it’s all just wishful thinking...!
If you are lucky, true friendship glows on you wetting you in pure ecstasy like manna from the sky... and if not, which is generally the case, you continue to degrade and rot under the false shade of solace...and by the time you realize it, the damage is already done!
Bad friendships are just that- BAD
For your body, mind and soul!
Like bad love jeopardises your chances of ever falling upon the right guy to fall in love with...bad friends block your chances of experimenting with the truth that might be there.
They leave you in perpetual doubts when u suspect intensions and jump to insane conclusions even in cases of prospects which could materialize in helping you find a soul mate.
They make your premises shaky...they cramp you with so much of themselves that perhaps you feel there’s not much in you that anyone out there would be interested in!
We all go through bad friendships whether we are strong enough to admit or not...Yes, it needs an admission for in worst cases these are the addictive ones, like drugs...giving you the short lived highs but drop you down with a ‘thud’ in the worst of dumps.
Get rid of them...uproot them...remove all traces and signs of their existence...block all doors that may tempt you to return for once you give in, it’s pretty much a give up. Realize your worth and to what lows there is a possibility of that ‘friend’ falling to or taking you to. It is said we invite troubles...yes, we do! We are humans...I may have a “use me” tag attached to me or bloody engraved on my forehead...Does that reduce your guilt of having used me? I may also have an expression that says ‘kill me’ because I don’t want to go on facing deception again and again...Have the balls my friend now to strangulate me...!
Ah...Don’t let the human laws deter you...when you disregard the laws of basic humanity and what bloody shit can the law making society do to you and the likes anyways!
Yup, bad friendships are bad...they go deep in you when you are least aware and just when you begin to realize it’s depth...it goes whoosh...leaving a vacuum there!
Let’s not create more black holes...let’s be more cautious of whom we let in despite the continuous knock at our doors!
21 June, 2009
This must be shared with my readers for there’s such a revelation in this one that it’s almost like a catharsis of sorts...
It comes from Deepak Chopra, the famous author and spiritual guide. He says that the greatest preaching of the world comes from just two words... “Let go”!
Yes, just these two!
Take in a deep breath and hold on to it.
Keep holding on and on and on, till it becomes impossible to keep it inside any longer and you feel constrained and suffocated. In a while you have no option left but the let go and breathe out. You find that once you do that, it returns to you with greater intensity than before and also relieves you of the feeling that you were about to burst.
We all hold on to our grudges, relations and disappointments allowing them to go within and create a negative abode. We let it harbour and co-exist inside creating almost a life for itself in our inner recesses. Whereas these negativities prey upon us slowly and surely...they rot within till we succumb body and mind to it or decide it’s time to let go. When we have to do it sooner or later, why not sooner and spare ourselves the agony of bearing it along.
In school days there used to be a famous saying that all of us liked to quote whenever we were called to rise to the occasion to give an elevated counsel to someone in need...and the needy here was always one who was smitten and broken in the game of love. We always consoled with the words... “If you love someone set them free...if he comes back he is yours, if he does not...he never was”.
With what child-like innocence we carried forward this advice almost like a legacy, not realizing its true import. If we want to feel truly unrestrained, more than just in the movement of our limbs...we have to let go and set free...because that’s the only way...the happy way to be!
(This is an excerpt from a magazine article written by a famous female writer Tishani Doshi. I found the piece truly amazing and an echo of my own sentiment...gawsh, how I wish I had written it! Anyways, I share it here and hope it stirs you too...kudos to the thought!)
Male female relationships are circumscribed by expectations and slotted into categories- boyfriend, father, brother, friend. But some elude this classification and testify to the pleasure of the detour. These bonds flirt on the lines between formality and intimacy....And yet these are often men that we still want despite it all...
“In recent years I have come to realize that it’s impossible and a little unfair to expect one man to fulfil all your intellectual, emotional and sexual needs. Once you get your head around this idea and let go of the monochromatic, either-or vision of the world, you begin to see a whole grey spectrum out there. The relationships that are most important to me now are those that defy category or logic. I call them my what-if men. What if he weren’t married? What if he lived in the same city? What if he weren’t ultra religious or didn’t do drugs or loved dogs? The range of the what-if man is truly awesome.
A relationship with a what-if man is a nurturing one, it may be fleeting or permanent, but it is nothing like the cliché of an affair, which is hot and hurried and poof! Love and sexual tension may hover over the periphery, but for it to really work, certain boundaries have to be maintained- that’s right, no sex because physical intimacy puts a spin on things and slides it into murky territory.
You may hold hands with your what-if man or not. You may unburden your darkest secrets and fears or not. You may consider each other as your ‘back up’ or not. The joy is in recognizing something special in another human being, in making that connection regardless of timing and circumstances, and learning how to draw fire from it.
My favourite what-if man is 40 years older than me: a demigod in his own country, a poet and a political hero. We meet once in a year, if we are lucky; eat spaghetti alle vongale and drink copious amount of wine. We talk about ways of living and share histories. When people look at us, undoubtedly they’re thinking, what’s going on there? But it is nothing inappropriate or sleazy. It’s just what-if. What if he were younger or I older? We meet, we talk, we return to our lives, and we carry the other person with us.
The great beauty in what-if is that you never take anything for granted because there is no ownership or expectation. It enjoys a longevity that other relationships can’t sustain and it exists in continuity always shifting and moving to accommodate both your worlds. The what-if man represents possibility, yearning. His place is never fixed. If you know what you want and what you are willing to allow, it’s worth having a what-if man or two or three in your life; like manna straight from the skies.
Let’s face it: America and Americans have done a lot for us...
Look at the vanishing clothes, the shifting culture, the independent youth, the empowerment of the single woman, the concept of old age homes-for the better or the worse and many other instances of urbanization that we owe to them.
However, if anyone wants to be urban chic in a jiffy, jump on to their slang bandwagon and there you may get entry to the most upstage circles. In a recent survey it was found that the quality most youngsters look for in their partners is the ability to speak in English, coming in line or at par with good looks. Hmm....impressive! So that’s why these English speaking schools do so well in India!
Anyways, I recently came across a book- more like a dictionary on the American slangs ‘From Flappers to Rappers’ and though at first glance I was put off with the idea that who in god’s name would like to read a thick, dumb book on slangs...but like always happens, upon deeper introspection it managed to get my attention for it was simply amusing and often bordering on the verge of being hilariously ridiculous. I have hand-picked some of these which managed to make me twit.
Ok, so next time you want to insult your peers with something that they won’t understand...call them...GONUS-the dim wit and all their talks can be termed as HOKUM or BALOONEY which in layman’s terms would simply mean nonsense...hehe...And this gets better... If he catches the joke slowly he is simply BONG. If he talks too much he’s a BAGPIPE and if he’s out of the ordinary in terms of good or bad, he’s a LALAPALOOSA...wow, sounds so cool, right? The Americans call the effeminate young man a COOKIE or a CREAM PUFF...hmm, how delectably thought provoking and an unpopular girl would be a ROACH...how disgustingly metaphorical!
One’s girlfriend may be addressed as his PUMPKIN...hello! Have u guys ever seen what a pumpkin looks like? I mean...kuch bhi bol doge yaar! BLAAH- it’s just no good...But then I like the term CUDDLE COOTIE- a young man who takes a girl for a ride...I like it specially coz there are so many of such dumb a@# around...you cuddle cooties, sudhar jao! These guys believe in the dictate of TOSS AND HIKE- to reject one girl and pursue another...hmm...aren’t the figurative implications of these terms amazingly outlandish?
A woman over the age of 30 is ROCK OF AGES...sadly I am an aged rock too...boo hoo! And a good looking boy is a PASHPIE or a DUCKY!
A ducky.....oh what fun to call one a ducky...! And if my dearies, you do not find these terms as laughable as I do...u can always tell me to CUT THE GAS...means not switch off the gas cylinder...but switch off my mouth...or just simply ask me TO TAKE THE AIR...means just leave. But as I know and believe that you would not... I continue with my empty talk or more appropriately and topically stated BOOGWASH...till you find it to be DITZEK- something funny.
I am hell bent on giving you something SWELL and SWANKY...don’t scratch your naughty heads on this one coz it just means something very good. If you still persist in saying RHATZ to infer how disappointing...hear this one...If someone comes up to you and says your PINKY IS OUT OF JAIL... my friend you may never know a Pinky or have the need to know one...it just means that your slip is showing and so proper up! Oh come on...don’t be such a POOPER or WET BLANKET- don’t be a killjoy and gimme a grin, a guffaw or at least a smile. I had to go through 133 pages to select these especially for you...couldn’t bear to go through the rest of the 233 pages...I am human too!
So being my SCOOCH-my buddy and also SQUISHY- forgetful (of the sin I have committed here of making you go through this bullshit)...just tell me to BOOT IT BABY...yup, it’s again not what you think...god bless your dirty mind...it just means...way to go! I guess this has been enough for both you and me...before it becomes a PISSER – a disappointing experience, I would just MELT-disappear...or hmm...let me just HANG IT EASY-see you later!
Coming back home from my evening walk, I was halted on my path after witnessing a strange sight. A handful of people stood almost in a circle, theatrically with heads turned up towards the branches of a huge peepal tree.
As if by natural human curiosity, I also looked up wanting to know what was so intriguing. Up above were a couple of langoors and down below a couple of street dogs...
Ah! The same old menacing monkeys rising proud as stumbling blocks on my path and tumbling thoughts! But then something in their antics made me quite enjoy the break that I had taken in my sojourn.
The monkeys had slyly come down from their turf challenging the dogs to guard their home ground. These long tailed animals moved ahead with cautious steps and the most watchful eyes while the whimpering doggies kept a sideways glance at these fellas, as though pretending that they weren’t interested in these kiddish games. But the monkeys were not born yesterday either. They knew it was a trick and showed their teeth in a scowl. The dogs retaliated in an angry growl.
Wow! How human like this one! No wonder we are said to evolve from these monkeys and dogs are our best friends...because we behave so much like them. The monkeys had absolutely no intension of conquering the marked territory of the dogs...they cared a damn. For them this was just a tease...rising out of boredom or a fanatic bid to prove their might or simply the exhilarating thrill of challenging the mighty! The dogs knew that the monkeys don’t want their land...their homes were elsewhere upon the branches. But big bloated egos and a thunderous bark to boot had brought in the audacity to play heroes. The monkeys took a step too close and whoosh the chase began as the former leapt from trunk to trunk to go beyond reach and the latter gave its main and might to teach the cowards a lesson.
The monkeys went up the tree, chattering in loud obvious humour and pleasure of having fooled the dogs below...oblivion to the fact that they were the timid ones who ran off from the battlefield. They swung about on the branches...as though mouthing an unspoken challenge... “now jump doggies...you were trying to be tigers in your home front...get to our homes and see what we do to you”.
The dogs below moved with smug satisfaction thinking they have affrighted the enemy and proclaimed their grit and guts. Not realizing that even a rat is the king of his own hole.
And so with little battles likes these...fought and won...and having had the fun...the creatures of the world...big and small...reversing roles of being meek and the gutsy...continue to live on....!
08 June, 2009
Hmm…Is there anything more precious to a woman’s heart than bags and boots? Hey I didn’t ask the men here…for they would have a volley of options…Ask a woman and she would readily comply with my hypothesis which should actually be backed by scientific observations and universal conclusions. By bags I mean those lovely complimentary tit bits and sometimes even the overalls that adorn our delicate shoulders and miniatures that get clasped in the tender grip of our palms or rather let’s say we add to their beauty…the sling bag, the clutch, the tote, the purse, the carrier and many other manifestations of this quintessential necessity for the fairer sex. And by boots please take into account the flats to the wedges and pumps, the tie-ups to the stilettos, the strappy bare-alls to the belle, high end boots to slip-ons and sandals and limitless other avatars. We love to boot and boot up.
I noticed the first signs of this fetish behavior, years ago, when I was walking across a show window in the busy, buzzing lanes of a market and a beautiful specimen of human creation in wedge heels and crocodile skin black leather, with just about the right amount of embellishments to save it from being termed as ‘over the top’, stared right across at me in the most longing of a glance that said, “Pick me up, hey pick me up”. And surely as magnanimous as I am with poor souls/soles that need my timely assistance, I obliged, causing my face to break into a big smile and my little bounty into a big hole. But the possession of that wonderful pair of sandals to stylishly complete the extreme tip of my body with a sleek edge was an experience of unadulterated satisfaction, almost a catharsis of sorts!
So there began my love affair with shoes, that time and indulgence seemed to have blossomed to its full splendor. God in his great designs of mischief has bestowed me with soft, beautiful, fair and shapely hands and feet (never mind his negligence in doing so with the rest of the body)…so that whenever I try something on my feet, it conspiringly looks stunning, if it is even remotely worth its mettle. So I am left helpless with no alternative but to pick it up from the shelf. Most pieces practically scream at me that we were made for each other as the lyrics of this song come alive in the backdrop…“hum bane tum bane ek duje ke liye” …and when fewer men substitute in doing so instead, you just have to succumb!
Thereby I have always had just a drawer full of meticulously picked exclusive bargains, and I deliberately never allowed that space to be enlarged for fear of immoderation that I may never be able to resist.
Although in all fairness, maybe extravagance and age…oops…I mean maturity, has brought about a steadiness and thankfully the wisdom to buy now only that which is a must-have only by normal human standards or qualifies in the category of love at first sight. I still swoon and get floored by the sections that herald “new arrivals” or “50% discount” but then prudence helps me walk down the aisle without a sheepish stance. I have now managed to withstand temptation after realizing I have three pairs each of black, white, bronze, silver and beige and with God as my witness, let me assert here that they suffice even in the biggest of crisis. (See I don’t go about matching my garbs with all variants of colors…I am a selective and sensible buyer despite all the impression that I have provided herewith). I have my little treasure in stones and swaroskis, in ethnic and modern variants, in suede and jute, in straps and shoes and of all sized heels possible. Hence the malady for now is under control and thankfully my drawer space reminds me to keep things in check for I would rather die than stuff beastly all these little wonders in a cramped up space of suffocation.
Hmm…and coming to purses…imagine the striking apparel, the appropriately used accessories, the perfectly suited stilettos and hairdo that charms with every lock…yet hands so bare and open, with nothing to hold on to…tch, tch and sob, sob. What a tragic waste!
And hence the relevance of the ladies purse! Imagine again guys, your little Blackberry and how it serves by giving you the world in your palm! Such is the purse for us…we can never dream or dare to leave our humble abodes without them. So as an obligation upon all you guys who always wanted a sneak preview of ‘what IS in our bags’, here’s a guided tour. Depending upon the size (for my dear friend, anywhere and everywhere size does matter), it can carry for us all our lethal weapons of mass destruction to our first aid kits of self appraisal, to our emergency relief tokens, to our bare essentials- the license (driving waala yaar, not license to kill), the cards (invitation waale nahi oye, the credit cards, membership cards, etc), the make up relievers, the cell phone, the hair brush, the pads and pens, the wipes and cleansers, the errands reminder list, medicines to pop, precautions if we get to hop and even technical gadgets like the I-pod or the camera…not to mention loads of dough to keep us going on and on and on. Hence the purse is just not functional, it is the very prop upholding our exterior demeanor of impeccable perfection and sanity.
Hence my dearies, it is equally crucial to stock up these bags in all shapes, sizes and utilities (does it strike a similarity with the guys we have in our lives…mmm…purely coincidental and unintentional). So whether it is branded or local…made from genuine leather or faux off-the-street style, we must have them all to match up to us on all occasions.
So next time when you want to score big time with us, please don’t attempt to open your mouths…just open your benevolence and take us shopping for bags and boots…and maybe, just maybe you may not go wrong this time!
Pinks, Swats, Aku, Vaiby, Shubhu, Rinku, Vics, Adi… nicknames galore wherever thou shalt lookst…
What a beautiful form of expression this is!
Something so warm, cuddly and personal about it, that it immediately endears and binds both the giver and the recipient!
I for one, have grown up with a volley of names addressed to me and I love each one of these expressions as though they were music to my ears. People from my toddler years know me as Ruchi, Ruchu, Ruchirum, Ruchooo, Ruchs….besides the Multani concoctions like Baghella, Bagghi, Bagadbilla, Matki…Please don’t ask me for literal translations because as you can deem by the sound effect of these inane fabricated words, that they are not very flattering and not the least bit interesting enough for you or anyone for that matter, to comprehend them seriously as a legacy to be carried forward.
Then of course is my official name, Suruchi, which my parents had so appropriately hand picked for their one in a million offspring…that’s me at your humble service. It’s a name that often evoked contrasting emotions…At times I was proud of it for it is a rare name and quite traditional…I never had to bear the humiliation of facing any comedy of errors risen through mistaken identities, because anywhere and everywhere there has been just one of me…figuratively and statistically. Imagine the upside of bearing the stylish arrogance of being a Suruchi in a room full of Nehas, Sonias and Poojas…mmm…too good.
However, whenever I made a phone call and god forbid the domestic help would pick up…I would have to encounter a battleground crisis in making him repeat my name to carry forward the message to my friend… “Kya naam bola baby aapne...Suchi...acha Ruchi… oho…Shuchi ya Shruti…?” is what I heard before I banged the phone on his face. And I could just meditate… “@$^%$#@... never mind u twerp, the “baby” would spend her father’s hard earned dough and call again…you please rest in peace…”
And then youth dawned and enticing introductions came in my social life buzzing with latent activity…
Soon ‘Suruchi’ was brewed and blended and reinvented for by itself, the public in general had great apprehensions and even mortal fears of using the whole of it. ‘Suruchi’…Some wise guy even had the audacity to comment that whenever he started uttering my name, he fell asleep by the time it came to an end…Hmpf…the world is brimming with thoughtless characters who know not how they err till thank god for justice as on the Judgment day they should have to answer for this all…!
Suru, Susu, Suchi were the innovations of some dim minds that did not bother to go through much thought process…
The “greater” minds came up with sushi, kiddo, cootchie, bebe, sweetie, sushu, surams and other unmouthable oddities…
Thank you my dear friends for presenting me to the world in such a thundering blast that I often succumbed with the lightning that fell with it. Aw…naah…actually I love listening to these endearments, differing from person to person…
And ask my dear beloved of what he calls me and be prepared to be drowned in a list of at least 20 (being an understatement) of names he has for me…baby, jaanu, sweetu are the only safe ones that I can oblige to disclose here…for the rest are almost blasphemous, inexplicable or just simply insane. So I spare the poor soul.
Most of my friends and family have also been blessed with names that I bestow in all my magnanimity on them…usually without much of a thought process….Ankur is Anik, Swati is called Swats, Ritika is Ritz, Anita is Ani, Shweta is Shwets, Kittu is KitKat, Gauri is Gauriya, Nidhi is Nids, Ridhi is Raddison, Vivek is Viv, Tushar is Tushki, Imran is Immi, Vaibhav is Vaiby and Vibhor is Vibsy…Aakriti is Aku while Srinivas is Sri, etc, etc…and anyone acting dumb enough is perpetually a Dodo…my eternal favourite!
How I love addressing them with my own names…again perhaps symptoms of a human hunger for being able to act like God…give others something of our own…determine their identities and quantum of how precious they are to us through names we judiciously or just on a whim pick for them. Whatever the motives, it is a nutty game that spices up life….so play on! And if I have not addressed you with a nickname yet or you chosen a flattering one for me still…
“The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But we have promises to keep,
And miles to go before we sleep!”
You stand at the shore my friend
Looking at the sinking sun about to be inevitably gobbled by the anxious sea…
The turbulent waves rising ambitiously to reach up to the proud sky,
While the clouds on the horizon run helter skelter as though to emphasize their superiority and establish that they are beyond reach.
The wanton breeze raises dust and blinds the vision,
The threatening winds resound with a fearful roar,
All birds rush home and the animation of life on shore fades inconspicuously.
The bright blue hues of the clear skies…merge into a dirty orange and then ominous shades of purple…till darkness would take over completely…
Is nature also rattling and all elements going mad?
The sun begins his transcend and downfall…
Evoking an eerie emotion within you as though
Nature is reverberating with what you are going through.
You look around to search for the path to choose
And fear accompanied by doubt chooses to confuse.
Tied up in rough times, hang on my friend
For when it seems the very end
Be mindful also of the knell
Sounding commence of something else…
A new beginning, a different meaning,
That requires comprehension and adaptation from our baffled minds…
Change is difficult…
But haven’t you conquered the most intricate of situations before…
Which exasperated, ruffled, shattered and tore?
When times around us seem outlandish, people bizarre and situations at the extremes,
Remember my friend they can take away your all,
But they can’t take away the spirit that makes you what you are…!
Let the surroundings seem fanatic and destiny indifferent,
But you must stand tall and proud before the storm…
They can’t make you zany or ridiculous
For years of judicious decisions and prudent actions take years to be drained down…and yet traces remain!
You have evolved slowly into what you are…
Not another atom in the system of things, but a system of its own…that can’t be rubbed, dubbed or snubbed!
No storm is strong enough,
No rough winds can uproot us…
For this is a journey and milestones remain…
If we have traversed through the good ones,
The bad ones are just a transitory pain.
Autumn is followed by spring, sunset by sunrise,
The waves have the upsides and also the slides…
But sooner or later with what we have in us,
We would win over what is happening around us.
Life is never always easy and often not fair…
But my friend, let’s keep moving ahead with a smile
Let’s put up a fight and just hang in there till we turn the tide!