The Joy of Solitude

Have you ever longed to be left all alone the whole day -all by yourself? Have you longed for a whole day off when there is no one to look at you or watch you or judge you, when there is no one to whom you have to respond and talk, when there are no kids-no husband-no domestic help, when you dont play any other role but just that larger one of being who you are??

It is only in solitude sometiems when you can connect to your own self, be your own best confidant and socialise with your own hobbies and interests.

You know you are expereincing the absolute bliss of solitude:

When you can fling a leg high up in the air, and then dart off to play your favourite music and take random dancing steps in between,
When you can rip open the covers of your favorite brand new movie dvd (the one you missed at the theatre and which all your friends went crazy about calling it a must-watch) and play it on quickly, grab a packet of sinful chilly chips and coke, and jump into your bed to watch it all alone,
When you can make yourself that perfect coffee, soak in the lovely aroma and sip it slowly, and read the paper,
When you can take an hour-long beauty bath, apply a face pack and paint your nails, and not feel guilty about the time wasted,
When you can look outside the window of your room, appreciate the beauty of the white and pink bougenvilla flowers, and wonder how you failed to take notice of them all these days,
When you can shut the door of your room, start reading your favourite book and finish it off by midnight,
When you can allow yourself to be happily bored, and then arrange your almirah, and then relish the clean feeling of opening a clutter-free well-arranged almirah in the evening,
When you sit alone in a coffee shop, and finish your favourite assignmnet on your laptop, while enjoying the third coffee mug,
When you can take a walk along the lake lined by flower shrubs just before sunset in lovely weather.

It is  a breath of fresh air straight from the heavens- when you can be totally yourself doing things you love, all ALONE.




 

Irrepressible Expectations

When you love a person with all your heart, you want to do your bit to make him or her happy. When that person is in  pain, it hurts you equally-if not more.You go the extra mile to do special things for the person. Doing "special" things for that person involves time and effort, and you inconvenience yourself. But then that does not matter. To see a loved one smiling and that too because of you -gives you a lot of happiness and contentment in return.

In doing all these things, somewhere in some unknown corners of your mind and heart, silent expectations start brewing- expectations of similar things from the loved person. You convince youreslf that your love is unconditional and selfless. But can anything be self-less? Losing your own sense of "self" in your love for the person would mean trampling over your own feelings, thoughts and your own well-being. Yet, you are very sure that your feelings for the person are selfless. What you dont realise is that nothing ever can be totally devoid of your "self". And what you dont also realise is that in your subconscious, you are already harbouring lovely expectations of your love being requited in the same manner from that person.

When you type in a lovely message to the perosn over phone painstakingly thinking of rhyming lines and creating your own poetry of love, you somewhere want to be appreciated and be loved back. That person smiling on reading the message does give you happiness, but that is not enough. You want a reaction!

You spend a whole week planning a lovely smashing surprise for the upcoming birthday of that special person. Four months later, its your own birthday. Your expectations of being felt special from that very person creep up.

Expectations are clever little things. They will lie dormant inside your seemingly selfless self, and then pop up their demanding heads at the right time. If they are not met, what follows is hearbreak, tears and immense pain. Every love given always expects a fraction of that love, if not equal or more, to be taken back. No love can be unconditional, according to me.
 

I have been mute on this blog for more than two years I think...Today I felt an irresistible urge to blog all of a sudden. I was myself taken by surprise, as this
thought struck me on a lonely drive back home from the suburban side of Whitefield. I saw a nursery by the roadside which had beautiful flower plants in all colors
neatly arranged in a row on the footpath to attract footfall. This sight instantly reminded me of my blog. Strange! At times, certain sights, scents or people swing
your mind to unexpected territories.

As I sipped my evening masala chai, I jotted down these few lines which came to my mind, aptly reflecting my state of mind. This is dedicated to all wives and
girlfriends who have been deserted by their lovers,off on business travel.

I miss the soft touch of your face
Which is not in sight for me to caress
I miss the comfort and solace in your hug
Like cold hands clutching a warm coffee mug

I miss the familiar scent of your shirt
Which used to banish my worry and hurt
I miss your presence when I retire for the night
Imagining a pillow to be you, hugging it tight
Swallowing my sobs and giving my tears a fight

Let him be here back soon,
I plead the silvery moon
The twinkling stars step forward and yell
Oh get a life! and spare us the sorrow
May be the sun can comfort you tomorrow

He doesnt miss you as much -  mocks the morning sun
He is out there in tour and having fun
Dont shed the pearlies, and dont let your thoughts drift
Call and ask him to be back with an expensive gift

10 things about myself.........

I have been forwarded this chain link a lot of times- to write 10 things about myself..everyone around seems to have finsished doing it..heres my chance...

1) If you are the adventurous sort who believes in trying something new everytime, beware of me..I order the same everytime I go to my favourite ice-cream parlour, I order the same dishes everytime I visit any restaurant, etc. I am hesitant to try new flavours. I stick to the old favourites, even though I know any new thing cud be better.

2) I usually dont loose my cool..but once I do, chances are I wil scrap your name/no from my friends list. I may forgive, but I never do forget the slightest betrayals.

3) I hate hypocrites and extremely diplomatic people. I once noticed a friend in hi school who smiled at me sweetly, and made a face at me nodding at an adjoining person the instant I turned away. This image has haunted me, and I can tell a hypocrite by his gestures and expressions.

4) I appreciate people who can make others laugh- so much that sometiems I envy the skill. I love the company of people who can crack spontaneous jokes out of any situation.

5) I love watching movies and television. I can watch any movie in a theatre - however boring, and yet never regret the time wasted or the money spent. I love cinema in any form.

6) I love dancing, free-style and high, in a crowd with a lot of people.

7) I love fast songs, with a lot of beats and dance-no types, more than the slow romaintic melodies. Many times, I have tried to appreciate deeper, slow, and truly good tracks, but always felt my heart jumping only at fast songs, which others would normally skip.

8) I am always ready to accompany anyone for tea and coffee-anytime. Really. Very rarely have I let down colleagues/friends, who come to my desk and ask- "coffee?" I am never too busy for an interesting conversation/gossip over coffee.

9) I love symmetry in every form, and I get terribly upset when its disturbed. Like if I have arranged a neat pile of ironed clothes and theres one piece sticking out, I get mad and spend time fixing it back in the line. I am almost superstitious that it will break my energy for the day if I dont re-arrange it. Same applies for books on the shelf or a pile of papers.

10) I love walking. Nothing is more perfect or me than a long walk in the evening with good weather, alone or with company. Alone works just fine.

Life comes to a full circle...

This statement has never been quite clear to me.
This statement has a deeper meaning.
This statement has always fallen on my ears with an uncanny mysterious vibration.

I stood at the gates of BITS Pilani as a fresher, my young heart thumping with excitement. My first impressions of BITS on my first day of my first year could not have been better. Bid a smiling farewell to my tearful Dad and wondered how our reactions clashed at the same event.

I stood at the gates of Meera Bhawan as a psenti-semite,
my heart heavy with grief at leaving the safe haven,
bidding a tearful farewell to my friends,
watched some faces, shut my eyes to save the last glimpse in my eye forever, and wondered if I would ever see it again,
touched the walls of the Bhawan and felt the mere physicality of the place,
hesitant to venture outside the gate of BITS Pilani.
And suddenly, a chill gripped my spine. I was standing at the same spot at which I had stood 4 years back. I was the same person and the changed person, at the same place and the changed place.
Life had come to a full circle.

I watched at the Audio video Codec people in my company, frantically coding in Assembly language, watched the papers thrown around, busy with careless scribbling of trains of 0's and 1's. I would never join the Group I thought. Too Technical. Not for a lazy soul like me.

Five years from then, I watched my colleagues at the Audio Video Codec group, heard my own voice discussing compression fundas with them, flipped through my practise work with a crossword of o's and 1's. Suddenly, I stopped, frozen to the spot.. Circumstances had made me a part of the group, how and when and why dont matter. I was at the same crossroad years back. I was here again. Too technical. For a hard-working soul like me.

Life had come to a full circle.

This will come back to you, he had said. What you have lost will be yours again. The tears you have shed, which evaporated into the mystic clouds, will rain again. The doors you have slammed shut will re-open. The people you have shunned will haunt you again. The story you have brought to an end will re-start. The people you have hurt will hurt you back again. The sacrifices you have made will encash again. The love you have lived will stop for a brief time, and continue again. Everything will be dark for some moment and then there will be light again. You will transition into the next phase- the next level-with higher experiences, but with new faces and same souls again.
Life or Death will come to a full circle again.............

The Harsh Truth and the Weak Soul

There were certain hard facts that were printed out in white and black blatantly; It read the ugly letters, spelt them out, and dismissed it as a lie in a deperate attempt to make itself feel better. Words were read, but the smug Soul refused to let the meaning and the realisation of that statement sink in. It lived in a well spun cocoon of silken lies- the threads of which were too feeble, full of false substance and dirt, but coated with brialliant colors and polished with ignorance. It ignored the weakness of the very base of its shell, and continued basking in the glory of its outward beauty. The beautiful and delicate silken threads, golden and yellow- shimmering and bright in the golden rays of the sun. It continued looking at them, smiling in content, and proud to have built this brilliant haven. It often saw the threads quivering and swaying with the slightest gust of wind, felt the whole shelter shake at the slightest tremor, felt the threads melt away at the slightest drizzle. Yet It fortified the cocoon, painting it with even more vibrant colors, applying thick coats of transparent reflecting polish. It knew the destruction was inevitable, it knew the doomsday was impending, the fast elusive moments ticking away- each moment bringing it closer. Yet the warmth of the current shelter was so comforting, the dazzle of the varnish so stunningly beautiful, that It did not have the courage to re-locate.

And the inevitable soon takes place..there comes a storm one day, the skies ablaze with forks of ligtning, and the clouds roaring with thunder. The safe shelter comes crashing down with a harsh impact, the threads melting away in a second, the colors washed down with the first few drops of rain, encircling the broken heap in a muddly puddle. Out of the debris, emerges the broken soul, shell-shocked at the damage which happened in a split second. No intitial tremors to give a prelude to the crash, the cocoon collapsed at the very first jolt, not strong enough to let the refugee Soul run away in serach of other shelters,not enough time to grasp the situation. It collapsed, cried for a few minutes, wiping away the tears, knowing that it was something It knew would happen one day.

In the midst of the devastation- dawns the Truth, which has always been escaped. The realisation of the harsh and bitter Potion trickles down the Soul like fresh moist cement seeping between the bricks and fortifying them. The enlightened Soul looks at the wreckage, glancing at its own folly, looks at the muddy colors with regret, and then steels itself. It smiles at the shattered pieces of glass. 'Now there will be a strong and safe shelter, built neither in haste, nor painted with false varnish'.It sets off on a long stroll, to re-build its home once again...looking for solid stones baked in the strong harsh heat.

Wishlist

I stare aimlessly at the ceiling....My mind is crammed up with unknown thoughts...I stretch a little in an effort to drive out the fatigue from my muscles...After setting the alarm for 6am, I shut my eyes tightly and wait...wait for my senses and my body to sleep..I can actually feel my senses spin and my mental eye flashing a collage of scenes..I can see the Marathalli Road traffic bottleneck, the zig-zag roads unevenly lined with tall buildings and shabby huts...of pedestrians walking at the side of the road where the bus stops are, of cars angrily honking, of millions of bikes crawling.......NO..I shut my eyes tighter...my ears now seem to burst with the cacophony of people chattering in the cafetaria and the deafening Kannada music playing in the SISO cab...I can smell the mixed flavour of North Indian food and idli dosa and pizza bread. I take a deep breath, turn over the other side and try to think of pleasant sights. There comes the vivid imagery of Bangalore Central mall..with fluoroscent yelloes-greens-red merchandise on display, with every nook and corner zammed with clothes, with mannequins staring coldly and smiling mechanically, of cash center queues, of people flocking in large numbers at the entrance of the Mall....I take a deeper breath now and try to copy-paste some pleasant soothing sight from my memory into my mental imagery...NONE absolutely..

Why is life a mere slave to the clock..mercilessly and perfectly ticking away..? Why has free will been supressed by deadlines and alarm bells and schedules? Why has the random and the spontaneous been governed by the rigidly and tightly planned? Why has the freedom to stroll lesisurely been trampled by this rat-race?