Waiting To Exhale.

I'm writing after a very long time and I'm just feeling like I'm in two minds right now with everything I'm looking at. What am I looking at? Pictures.
Pictures, pictures and more pictures. These are the sounds of my life.

On one side of my table, here are strewn some of the most darling photos of my childhood.
Mum and Dad with me and a picnic basket at our favorite park. Mum holding a handful of candies away from me and laughing with that gorgeous wide smile at my red, strained chubby face awash with crocodile tears as my plump fingers steadfastly aim to reach for my Mum's withdrawn palm. Dad and Mum cajoling me into blowing out the only candle on my first birthday chocolate cake (which was followed over the years by so many more, with each one more precious and beloved than the previous.). Mum in the driving seat looking at Dad in the top mirror while she confidently takes her first drive through the more crowded side of town. Me dozing away at the table with books while my Dad is working out some complex algebra that he thinks I'm actually paying attention to (haha!).
More testimonies to the love we share as a family. Amen.
And then some.

Then some of my lighter photos. My best friends and me pretending to be the rascals we actually are. Us at the coffeehouse, trying to look older. Us stuffing ourselves with pizza and beer. Us striking poses for special photos that we have names for and remember even today...
These photos become all the more important today since we're all so far away and in different places today. This, other than the regular lovey-dovey e-mails that tend to take on a more monotonous tone and the once-in-a-while ''long margarita nights'' that we get together for and never forget, is the only memory we will all share together of the times we actually knew how to be cute; and to love like we would never get hurt.
A time when I thought I thought nothing was impossible. Nothing.

Near my knee, there's the coffee-stained main page of the newspaper with photos of foreign dignitaries alongside a cover story on trade relations. Beside this, the tabloid with some snazzy photos of teenage celebrities and who's-who in Hollywood, Bollywood, Kollywood and who knows what other woods that be springing up out of the blue these days. Beside that, the cookbooks with a million recipes. Splash of colors. The more mundane and happier side of life.

I'm looking at the television. Pictures in sepia of hungry orphans with tired faces squatting and looking on with surprised expressions at the camera with a side-photo of the country's food grain being consumed by mice and dogs scavenging in torn gunnybags. Convicted politicians dressed to the nines with unapologetic smiles and followed by dozens of shouting supporters touting the Victory symbol in black&white. Youngsters angrily arguing over current issues in a newsroom. A CRPF jawan's blood-stained helmet lying on the grass. Broken green glass bangles in the sand and a beautiful new bride crying and wiping away silent tears with a mehendi-adorned hand while the bugles blow. Models preening for the flash while others kill themselves.
Pictures of the outside world that in equal proportions wrench my heart, make me pause and think and then make me feel helpless and angry.

On the sofa, there is my secret collection of photos. Photos I've printed out. Of people.
I'm getting more photos everyday.
Young and old, men and women and children.
Patriots. School children. Aspirants. Normal, talented and otherwise happy people.
These are the faces of the people I've never personally met and for the rest of my life I will never be able to forget.
People who lost their lives to mindless and abominable reasons that I don't think they themselves would have ever considered possible.
Ragging. Molestation. Rape. Murder. Terrorism. Humiliation. Sacrifice. And then some.
People who were loved by other people. And who actually gave a damn about something.
People who stood by a single principle they put their faith into and lost everything for it.
I need these photos everyday, every single day, to remind me of how important my life is. How important it is for me not to waste an hour, even a minute.
It is only with such incredible and impossible losses that we come to terms with life and learn to savour every second of it.

I need all of these photos every single day. I keep looking at them, just like people need coffee refills and cigarette packs.
Without these colors and these faces and these memories, my life is not my own life. I am not me.

Daily life and everything in it so inexplicably gets intertwined with my own life - my own family and my best friends - that I cannot help but wonder what it is that hurts me so much about these photos of lives I'm not a part of. These people I never knew and who have made such an impact on my life and make it all the more worth my while to appreciate the bitterness of the long road ahead.

I feel like a silent spectator to all their suffering. Suffering which I was not privy to.
It consumes me and holds me captive for a long time.
With all things I have learnt to overcome, I have still not learned how to deal with the closeness of my life to another person's misery.

The question we should all ask ourselves is this - is this all there is to our life? While we sweat and fret and complain and fume over the smallest things everyday, there are ten special people around the world dying too soon.
I'm just struck deep somewhere within by the inevitability of loss and pain.
Life goes on, I suppose...I'm just waiting to exhale.

The Way, The Will And The Wish.

I've always followed my way. What you see is what you get. Sometimes there's more than meets the eye, but that's irrelevant to you.

I've always had a will to follow my way. If I had no will, I wouldn't be me. If I've strongly been against an idea with all my heart, I've never stood up for it. Sometimes, I willed myself to relent with ideas I didn't agree with, but that's irrelevant to you.

I've always wished. Upon shooting stars, into wishing wells, upon clear midnight skies, upon wood, in talks with God, for those whom I love. Life isn't much of life without any wishing. Sometimes, I wished I hadn't wished and got what I wished....but that's irrelevant to you.

Life is simple and beautiful...there's so much to learn from children and so little to experience as adults.
I'm somewhere caught in the middle. Raring to go, but wistful when I look behind me.
Ah, as long as there's love coming from somewhere, it'll be alright. :)

A Spiritual Deal For Tomorrow.

Kudos to our beloved esteemed Prime Minister Manmohan Singh for the perseverance spent on building collaborative bilateral relations with the United States by way of the Nuclear Deal;

Hearts over to the Congress for their unfazing support to the Prime Minister and to the country in the midst of devastating betrayal, in the face of debasing mockery and in the stand against the communal rapists of our dear homeland.

A moment of silence in respect of the moving unity this prospect of new beginnings and newfound hope has brought to all our 28 states and 7 Union Territories.

Laugh and smile at the poise of the Government's younger supporters in the form of Rahul and Priyanka Gandhi, Sachin Pilot, Omar Abdullah and Sandeep Dikshit amongst our other good souls for winning over favor for the Deal and for maintaining their stand for progress.

Vow to never forgive the anti-Deal politicians, perpetrators of crimes past and future crimes untold who rallied with all their might to prevent India from crossing over to the brink of reform.

India has greeted her new friend, "Change".
Let's welcome this friendship with humble yet proud Indian minds;
With all the aspirations of a young child looking up to the skies seeking to fly with bare feet and a heart lighter than a kite.

The Confusion of being Confused with.

It's the weekend, we're all at peace now and we want to take a break from the monotony of what we call the 5-day rush hour drive.
If I admit it, you can admit it too - how many hours do we spend all week thinking and planning about these two whole days that we mostly spend sleeping?

Weekends are something a fresh Honors grad suddenly-working - coincidentally 'me' - can look forward to because for us it's the only time we get to re-live and think ruefully of the past when all we had to do was study write exams block woodshed study (and since this "then" was a boring time back then) and was something every college fresher essentially didn't want to do even if that was the only purpose served for going to college.

I'm always confuso about what to do for the weekend.
Should I laze around at home staring gratefully at the ceiling / sleeping / watching some funny-horror-romantic new flick?
Should I get into the kitchen and cook while nobody's looking?
Where the hell's my gang?!!! We'd made plans for the weekend....
Oh right, Shirin's tired, can't drive. Anitha's in Toronto...just how could I miss that?
The rest of my gang's back in Mumbai....freak.
The gorgeous man of my dreams is busy at work and his parents can't be visited if he isn't home too.
What exactly in heaven's name was I looking forward to this weekend anyways?!!!
Confound it, confound it!!!! I can't recall why I was soooo happy on my way home in the first place?!
GRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!?#@!



I love cooking. I just chop, peel, cut, dice, grind and mash until my heart feels sated, complete and full of a satisfaction I can't get from doing anything else.
I should've been a chef. But I didn't want to turn bankrupt at this age after just starting out with my own restaurant cooking my own kinda food and having to deal with other people's hospital bills for diarrhoea, allergies, blah blah blah.
And by the time I get all the pantry stock out onto the kitchen counter, I'm confused about why I took it all out in the first place.
Wasn't it a basic raita I wanted to stir together? Then what brought out the array of sabzi veggies? Why's the penne out of its packet?! I wasn't going to cook pasta!!!
ARGGGHH!!!!!!?#@!


I was going to call somebody...whom? Work-related call? Leisure call?
Best friend-gossip call? Long distance call? K9 Friends? Feline Friends???
Was it the pup or the kitten or my best friend or __________?
Was I planning on making some blank calls, perhaps? To whom? Since which age?
Was I supposed to be the caller or the recipient?
If I'm the recipient, was this staged or am I losing my mind?

My cell phone's ringing. I pick it gratefully.
Scrutinize the new number.
Silence. Clear my throat. "Hello?"
Soft giggles.
"Remember me?"
"Nope. Who's this?"
"The love of your life."
Thinking hard.
"No-ooo. This isn't his number. Plus, he hasn't rung up on my number since the past two weeks."
"Oh really? Is his name Piyush?"
"Is your name Piyush, Piyush?"
Chuckling, "Nice guess, Tanya."
"Who's Tanya?"
Whispering, "Gayatri's off for the weekend. Maybe we should..."
Ruining the suspense, "Who's Gayatri?"
Laughter. "Dawwwling - "
"You cheating on your wife or girlfriend or pet?"
"Huh? You -"
"I'm not Tanya."
"Yeah, right." Teasing giggles.
Don't I just love it when grown men giggle.
"Hey, hey, hey. Listen up. I'm confused about what to do this weekend - "
"Yes Piyush, so am I."
" - so let's meet up and - "
"Unfortunately, I'm not your Tanya."
"- have fun?"
"Exactly, you too. Have fun with Tanya. This is Champa Chameli speaking."
"What the - Tanya, what's the matter - ?" in a bewildered tone.
"Bye Piyush."

He didn't call back after that. Must've gotten flabbergasted. Decided to check the digits. Seen the atrocity he committed.
I'm still wondering if I should find out who Gayatri is. At least I'd have something not-so-ordinary to do this weekend.
At least I know there are people who have nothing to do during the weekend.
Or if they do, they don't have any way of actually doing it.

See, that's just it. I don't want to have a "normal-weekend" weekend.
I want to do something completely mind-boggling, exciting, intriguing, out-of-the-box - but there's either no opportunity for doing it or I can't choose between the options provided.

Saturday night 10 p.m. all over again.
Darn....I wish I just had a normal weekend.
I can't wait, I have a list of things to do, people to meet, places to go....

Finding Ways.

My colleague's getting married. I'm happy for her. This is a great season to start with anyhow;
What with all the young people around me getting married, falling in love and finding their luck abiding with them in different ways...it feels great to be part of such joy.

Then why am I disturbed?
It's not a state of mind. More like a foreboding.
Possibly because the one man I happen to think is wonderful and perfect for me is suddenly distant....as if we'd never met.
Possibly because my evergreen best friend is suddenly the portrait of sorrow since she recently started work - first job.
Isn't this what usually happens once you fall in love and get married to the perfect person / get the perfect job / find the perfect home?
Something bloody well goes wrong.

All I did was ask. Ask how he was. Ask how work was. Suddenly something went dead wrong in his disposition. Slow to answer, equally slow to ask. Something not-quite usual.

How to deal? How do I get this through? What must I put across to him, or more importantly, reinforce in my own mind? How am I supposed to get my best friend back from this zombie she's suddenly morphed into?

No answers really, just questions. I'm starting to think that, instead of finding ways, we should just let our situations cope with us.

I'm giving my best friend time and space...she wants to shed some first-time tears and I'm going to be her pillar. I'm just going to wait and let it happen as she wants it to.
I'm letting go of him. If he's stressed at work / harried about something, he'll need to work it out...once he works it out, he'll realize the distance between us is growing. And he'll open up.

Look, for all I know, this may not even happen. But it's okay. What's the worst that could happen? Nothing's worse than this, say that enough number of times and you'll start believing it. Find your own way out of a situation where you're not wanted.
When you're wanted, those situations will just come looking for you.

Misery.

There is no point in crying over spilt milk. Similarly, there is no point in crying when you have been left all alone to deal with your own set of problems even when you have all the people in this world who love you more than anything else.

But in the dead of night when you're lying in your own bed, crying your own tears, wishing for the voice of one stranger in the darkness of your heart rather than the applause of a billion people in the world....and when you're still alone....do you know how it feels then?

I call it "Misery".

Misery is a state of an individual's soul, not his mind. It is a state where you feel all alone, even when you're surrounded by all the people who love you and care about you. It is an emptiness that eats you alive. Misery is when you are overcome by a serious and real sense of desperation even though you're the happiest person on the planet. Misery is alive and hungry. It comes to take you in its arms when you are least expecting it.

It walks into your life every single day. It comes and it walks away when you're getting used to it. Sometimes it stays with you all your life.

For all the morphine in the world, there is nothing worse than not having an antidote for your soul in the dead of night when all the world's worrying about its own set of issues.
For all the drugs and biochemicals we have in this day and age, I'm not sure we still have any cure for a broken heart.

It's true, you know...some people do die wishing to live.
Neither science nor money can buy any of us love.
So just choose carefully when you choose between what you want now and what you'll have to stay without for the rest of your lives.

Sreesanth loves Prichops! :)

Firstly, I can't believe this crap;
Why on earth would somebody like Priyanka Chopra even consider Sreesanth - no matter how much of a successful cricketer or wannabe-hotshot he is - when she's already with Harman Baweja? Not only are they dating, but for a change they're "actually" happy;
So what's with the media hype over a supposed crush that Sree has on our Priyanka??? - they certainly chose the next controversial cricketer to get involved in a heated link-up (note: cricketer in question is naturally quick to anger and quicker to unleash it!)
The channels airing this kind of news will be lucky "not" to get sued for wrongful publicity - though Sreesanth could use some more positivity in his image projection, this won't help in the least :D