Grief

Grief .... its such an absorbing, all consuming and almost too selfish an emotion. It numbs you from the outside world and its context completely, absolutely almost as nothing else can. No wonder sometimes the best or the worst comes out of a person at the moment of their grief.

At some point of time you have tolet it wash over you, overcome you before you can get hold of yourself. It is tough and it can be very demanding almost as demanding as a child. It takes up all of the avialable space just like any gas, expands and fills up all the nooks and cranies of your consciousness and else. Just as air you can almost not feel its presence.

Looking for Dumbledore

Is it possible to look for purpose? TO feel lost without it? TO expect great things from yourself even in the face of evidence to the contrary? Sometimes it becomes imperative to have that one person who believes in you so strongly that you begin to believe in yourself and can take on the world.
Why are most people in this world only here to cut you to size? Whatever size that may be. Isn't it the most dreadful thing? How are you supposed to take a leap when all you are trying for is get a toe in to stand on?
it is sad and unfortunate when we can not value nurture and help all the talent that we have around us. All this myth about survival of the fittest is always thrown in the face every time you bring up these things. But isnt it equally important for us as society to get ahead? Not just one fittest person at a time but as more than one each doing his or her thing and saving all that energy that we waste on being mean and cutting people to size on our own creative pursuits.

I have been lucky to have mummy and papa then didi and didya then jeejaji and ashu and ishan and bhumi and last but not the least Mehr. Each and every one of them have given me wings. Have shown me the way held me when I have needed that, nurtured me. I am what i am because of all their love and all the wonderful people who have been a part of my life. I know there are so many people who do not have what I do. But I also know how easy it is for things to get better. As I said it is just unfortunate that we have to make do with how things are because we are all scared to be helpful and nice. We are insecure about other people reaching ahead of us, going far, going places in the fear that they are taking our rightful place.

Just a little bit of love, a little bit of push in the right direction. Some one who cares. A mentor. Each one of us is a little harry potter looking for a Dumbledore in our lives. It only ends up being a life long quest for many.

Objective

Objective is the lens piece which is close to the object under study. Objective is also the aim or point of living a life objective above all is also a very wrong and boring word to get or chose especially if you are trying to get out of writer's block and trying out free writing. it is an even worse choice if you are at a point in life where there seems to be a lack of it in real life. It is as if you do exist and carry on being employed and and do things to carry on being that but there is no passion and no interest and there is also a lack of dive to do what you are currently doing. what makes the situation even less palpable is that you do not know what else you want and if there is anything that can help you find what you are missing in life. or for that matter may be this is you life and you are not missing anything. this is all the passion and reason and satisfaction you will even have in your life. now that is one sure rock bottom if ever there was one.

Life-a full circle...

Everyone has a story to tell and every story starts with the time they become an entity different from that of their mother. Weather that is through the tunnel and vagina or escape through an incision. For that matter few stories begin even before that like mine. May be more stories have their beginnings earlier than the people realize. I got to know this when I was 17 years old. In a freaky comment that I overheard my mother make to our hosts of that evening. Without remorse or malice, she was talking about woes and trials of the time around a pregnancy and how difficult the whole decision is. She very matter of factly told the lady that when I was conceived she was afraid of what had happened. She wanted to get rid of me cos I was not part of the plan. She already had two daughters and did not or was not looking for another child. I don’t know what what the context of the conversation was and what was exchanged after this statement. I was more or less stunned to hear it , it hit me like a ton of bricks, and in my melodramatic and thespian tendencies honed by all the emotional upheaval of adolescence it was not less than any calamity, it was like my parents had suddenly disowned me or rather refused to own me. The ground was snatched below my feet, to paraphrase a Hindi idiom.

In time I got over it, I realized how my mom and my dad absolutely adored me and weather the news of me was received well or not I certainly was! Mind you this wisdom dawned on me a good few years later. Till then it was a cross that I bore on my head or chest whichever is more painful.Anyway so the point that I was trying to make was that some stories start earlier, and everything that happens in one life comes on to be a part of the person.

Every story is intertwined with another and there is no beginning and really no end. Its all a matter of perspective and the window of our observation. Everything out of context is only a reflection of our turmoils and emotions hidden with in. What  you see and what you hear may not be the absolute truth. Trust your instincts more as they do not always depend on what can be seen and heard.

My daddy strongest!

Well not necessarily and in most cases not at all, but talk to any daughter and her father dad, papa, appa, baba, holds a special place in her heart. It is one of the most wonderful things in life, this father daughter bond. I love my father; there is no other word for it.

Things have changed a great deal in all the years that we have shared together. I am going to be 30soon and in all of those three decades, life has been full. Full of love, laughter, tears, anger, desires, dreams, disappointments, achievements, disillusionments, affirmations.... basically "FULL" pretty much covers it brimming wouldn't be an over statement either.

Of my earliest memories, my father was a saviour of kinds, my knight in shining armour, someone who could make things right, make it happen, someone who was big and warm to cuddle up in a cold night.

And his hands could envelop my entire fist keeping it safe from anything and everything. That was my safe haven. In fact it was that for a very long time; much longer than for a lot of my friends.

I remember feeling safe being able to sleep when there was an imaginary monster behind the curtain or a very scary test or a difficult exam the next day or just about any anxiety that I could understand and also the ones that I couldn’t understand. His hand could smooth away anything that could remotely affect me worry me or harm me. It did not matter that he was not directly involved in any of those issues but the very fact that he was there and I was with him made it all seem not too bad and nothing that wasn’t work “outable”.

Even during my teens I fought more with my mother, all the rebellion was mostly aimed at her and not so much at him. He always got the best of me and I think vice versa as well.

Our moment of truth happened much later much much later when I was in my twenties; early twenties, when I moved out into the big bad world. For some reason that I do not remember, I felt alone and scared and overwhelmed with things around me. That was also the time when I was taking some of the most important decisions career wise. I could not see him or find him at the same page as me. It disconcerted me. For the first time I felt that we had to actively communicate, in order to be understood. He didn’t seem perfect. The chinks in the shiny armour were getting prominent. My eyes were waking up to a new knight- who was no longer someone who could make the world go around for me. My knight had very limited powers. My world had expanded beyond his influence. I had left the nest. I had flown and his cover was no longer effective and the safety net was no longer relevant at those heights. I found him wanting I found him limited in his knowledge, his resources, his solutions. He could no longer guide my battles. He was still there but not the way I used to see him. My daddy was human after all. It was a very tough thing to wake up to. I remember writing to him about how I didn’t love him the way I used to. How I had these unresolved feelings in my self that I just didn’t know how to deal with. And I also remember reading what he wrote back. He wrote back as to how I would get over this phase as well. How it was all about growing up and how it was basically about a change in perspective after all. When I was small he seemed big huge even and someone who had an answer or a solution for everything. But as I grew up things started looking different from where I stood. He didn’t seem as tall and big. My questions were getting more and more specific about the world my world was expanding and growing at an alarming speed too; the definitions of it; the boundaries of which were changing day to day.

I remember feeling relieved, that was one of the most liberating things that I think I learned about life then. Love was something that is usually not deserved. Love is something that is given inspite of not because of what you or someone is. My father did not have to be perfect for me to love him. He just needed to be my papa as he was with his own set of quirks and eccentricities and love and limitations and everything. He didn’t have to be perfect to be the best. And so does everything else in life. Since then I have had my share of disagreements about what he does, or believes in, or says but my love for him through it has been strong and unwavering and I think I can say the same for him too.

This freed me to love people and accept them as they were. I no longer had to get them to be another kind. In fact I did not even need to like them a lot all the time. It was perfectly normal and acceptable to dislike them at times and still love them. I think that is why love is such a freeing emotion. It is not dependent on the actions or the worth or the qualities of the loved but of that of the one who loves. Now I know as what I am today, that my dad is not perfect he has his imperfections which are lesser than most mere mortals but not completely absent but he is and will always be the best dad ever.

Crying

Why do we do it?

Why do we succumb to it.

Why is it such a good release?

Is that also escapism?

Is that damage control?

Is it contrived?

Is it real?

Is it easy?

Is it easier?

Is it defeating?

Is it confusing?

Is it frustrating? Especially to see someone else do it?

Spitting Image

Technically the word means a perfect double or counterpart but visually this word reminds me of India, the roads, the transport, the public places. It reminds me of all spit stained walls and corners and all the things that we litter our immediate environment with. It reminds me of the male of the human species using the whole wide world as a giant urinal! The stench that all but suffocates you as you somehow navigate your way through such dinghy corners, pretty much in the middle of the busiest of streets. It reminds me of dhaula kuan- the shady and busy dhaula kuan.

It reminds of the place which is hotbed of eve teasing and worse, In spite of it being such a busy place in the world; in the capital city of the second most populous country in the world. It is a glaring reminder of the apathy that we the living have towards more of our very own kind. A woman (may be even men) can not feel any safety in numbers cos there is no guarantee about anyone else seeing you as one of them, worthy of notice, of consideration, of help….

Its almost as if you do not exist.

Especially if you happen to be in trouble or seem like someone who might need help. And here I am not talking about someone coming brandishing a sword riding a black horse in a shining armour. It is only about being aware of your surroundings, being vocal, being there.

It is simply as simple as that. It does not take a lot. At all.

Why is it that all we do care about it the next bus to hop on and the next seat that we can get and the next place to go to. Why do we not enjoy or experience and just exist in the present. That’s a common psyche… why why why??

This level of apathy I think also stems from this rat race, this feeling of always being behind and catching up to the future. The future will always be in future the moment you catch up with it it becomes your present. So what you are not doing is essentially your present so why run away from it?

Why not soak in it, experience it? Why not be here in the present? Instead of running ahead at such a pace that you miss the view. No matter how dismal, dirty or filthy it is.

Cos only when we stop to notice, will it ever matter to us to keep it clean or to be enraged or outraged about things and injustices around us?! Weather being done to fellow humans or environment or sentiments….

May be just may be it will make the present worth being in, almost as attractive as the future that is always eluding- by the very virtue of its being what it is.

New Year New Thoughts

Why is loss more meaningful or poetic than otherwise? Its a new year and it should come with new hopeful possibilities. Why? New year is just another number on the calendar, just another day. Why is there so much of hoopla around it? Why inspite of your better judgement you get carried away in its promise of renewed possibilities and potential that never really does come through?

Its just another day when you lost or gained. Just another hour. Just like any other regular day.

I wish there was less glamour and enthusiasm attached to it.

Its safe to be pessimistic. Is safety over rated? Is pessimism underrated? Does it not over lap with reality? Isnt reality more depressing than pessimism because of its huge overlap with the latter?

Why Do we need to move on? why can;t we just call it a day and put up our boots. Whats the point of moving on when you dont know where you are going? and more importantly why you want to go there...

Movement is just another distraction from what you need to figure out. Just another way from keeping yourself from thinking. Being busy is the perfect form of escaping from everything around you.

Passage

The cells have already undergone their 21^st passage, which means that they have been sub-cultured 21 times, and they are no longer what they were in their first passage or for that matter in their 5^th passage, they have evolved into something different, the environment around them has influenced them to be what they are now. For one thing it makes them unfit for my set of experiments as for comparing them I need to have them at the same passage.

I wonder why it took science to understand and prove and accept this so very obvious a thing. You see looking at this whole thing not biochemically but philosophically, man what he is today is not really what he was yesterday and ideally should not be what he will be tomorrow. All of us are supposed to evolve and if not that then ….. change. There is of course such a thing as retrogressive evolution; so I guess evolve is pretty much the word- for good or for bad. So essentially life as long as it is living will evolve weather for better or worse. So the corollary of this man and environment thing can be that if you evolve to be better than yourself, can you also influence the environment around you? This is of course assuming that man and his environment is one open system and there is a continuous exchange of energy between them. Hmmm interesting is this what is supposed to be making a contribution to society? Is this what the whole endeavor of living is supposed to be about? IS this how contribution is supposed to be, as a by product of change that is with in you? Or is it supposed to be more o f an active process than that. Hmmm what a tangent!