I started a joke, which started the whole world crying,
But I didn't see that the joke was on me, oh no.
I started to cry, which started the whole world laughing,
Oh, if Id only seen that the joke was on me.
I looked at the skies, running my hands over my eyes,
And I fell out of bed, hurting my head from things that Id said.
Til I finally died, which started the whole world living,
Oh, if Id only seen that the joke was on me.
- Bee Gees
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Friday, January 18, 2008
Loss of a Prayer !
I had a prayer , the only one I had.
It was my wish, my dream and my life.
It was strong, and it was to right a wrong.
The only thing that came to my mind when I saw God,
The only thing that was felt in my heart when I felt God.
The only thing that I heard when I heard from God.
So many things I could have wished for from HIM, but still everytime it was the same wish !
And now, I met a breeze, that had blown from her lands and I heard it whispering to the trees near the balcony of my room ! I overheard and stood mortified :-(
Standing in front of the Lord for my daily prayer ritual, I froze !
Mind drew a blank, heart ceased its feeble attempt at shivering.
I was standing to say my prayer, yes, the very same prayer.
But I could not.
If I said that, then I would be wishing for the unhappiness of the poor soul I was praying for. I could not say it, it would be wrong on my part to wish for something at the cost of someone else's loss.
My body crumpled, my eyes shed a dry tear.
The heart dissolved in my blood.
Nothing, absolutely nothing. Zilch !
Why was I standing there....
God said, "its wrong to wish for something that is not yours."
I protested, "But I do not want it to be mine ! I just want it to be with me !"God said, "Ask for something else son, this I can't give. I do not control this !"
I said, " I do not care about anything as much as I care about this. If I have to pray then I will pray only this. If you cannot give then I do not need a prayer"
God said, " Prayer is not only for oneself, pray for others as well "
I sunk further into the ground and said, "God, this means that you never listened to my prayers. Every prayer of mine has been for someone other !"
God said, " Then in that case, I am sorry son, I think you just lost your prayer and the right to pray"
I protested, " How can I lose it so quickly? "
God said, " Is it not better if Death comes faster ! "
I found a prayer on July 24th,2007 and lost it on January 14th, 2008.
It was my wish, my dream and my life.
It was strong, and it was to right a wrong.
The only thing that came to my mind when I saw God,
The only thing that was felt in my heart when I felt God.
The only thing that I heard when I heard from God.
So many things I could have wished for from HIM, but still everytime it was the same wish !
And now, I met a breeze, that had blown from her lands and I heard it whispering to the trees near the balcony of my room ! I overheard and stood mortified :-(
Standing in front of the Lord for my daily prayer ritual, I froze !
Mind drew a blank, heart ceased its feeble attempt at shivering.
I was standing to say my prayer, yes, the very same prayer.
But I could not.
If I said that, then I would be wishing for the unhappiness of the poor soul I was praying for. I could not say it, it would be wrong on my part to wish for something at the cost of someone else's loss.
My body crumpled, my eyes shed a dry tear.
The heart dissolved in my blood.
Nothing, absolutely nothing. Zilch !
Why was I standing there....
God said, "its wrong to wish for something that is not yours."
I protested, "But I do not want it to be mine ! I just want it to be with me !"God said, "Ask for something else son, this I can't give. I do not control this !"
I said, " I do not care about anything as much as I care about this. If I have to pray then I will pray only this. If you cannot give then I do not need a prayer"
God said, " Prayer is not only for oneself, pray for others as well "
I sunk further into the ground and said, "God, this means that you never listened to my prayers. Every prayer of mine has been for someone other !"
God said, " Then in that case, I am sorry son, I think you just lost your prayer and the right to pray"
I protested, " How can I lose it so quickly? "
God said, " Is it not better if Death comes faster ! "
I found a prayer on July 24th,2007 and lost it on January 14th, 2008.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Silly Symbolisms !! - the resort of the weak ?
The instant I realized what was happening to me, I knew I had done something that was radically different to what I was. I knew life would never be the same after this realization. I knew things had gone a bit too far and yet I knew that what I was doing was going to make me happy. I knew that all these things that I was doing and following were not going to be the right way of doing things or the right parameters for judging my feelings … but still I also knew that there are times when logic takes a back seat and what might have been so difficult to do, you do in an instant without much of a fuss. I knew only the crazy, obsessive and paranoid did such things, but at the same time I also knew that it was the only way to retain my sanity in this ruin ! Ironical , huh !
I had never touched the talcum powder after my 5th standard in school (after which my mom stopped dressing me up for school). I have always scoffed at people who used to apply the powder on their faces, necks, napes, underarms, chests, and god knows where all ! I used to wonder why we needed to increase our complexion quotient by applying artificial stuff on our faces.
And now here was I applying the white powder on my face every morning. And what could be the reason – My mother, on my departure from my hometown Baroda, gave a Pond’s talcum powder pack for my use. I just exclaimed as to what made her think that I would use it and she just smiled. She said, “Keep it Anu. You might need it !” And boy, she was damn right. I needed it although for not the reasons that she must have even imagined.
Same case with the Pond’s cold cream – I hardly use cream. Oh how yucky it feels to apply that greasy substance on your face ! But now I apply the Pond’s cream everyday on my face because my father gave it to me again on my departure. He went out and bought a whole lot of provisions and assorted stuff while I was packing. The love with which he bought some stuff that are not even used by me, touched me and I silent kept all of those inside my bags. I didn’t have the heart to quarrel with him, the way I usually do. Same case with Colgate Herbal toothpaste. I used to have pitched battles with him when I lived with them. I don’t like the taste of herbal toothpastes and he loves them. I used to buy my own toothpaste while the whole household used the herbal paste bought by him. And now see ! what a change… I buy only that toothpaste. What more, I even fought with my roommates for having misplacedthe toothpaste given by my father. What a sick fellow I have become.
The whole point of these examples is – What happens to oneself when we miss people whom we love so dearly. I am away from my parents and my family and maybe these are the small ways in which I try to still maintain their everyday presence in my life. Right from waking up and saying my prayers to the time when I get back to sleep , each day in my life is peppered with some small gestures, actions, and idiosyncrasies aimed at remembering my dear ones.
I have stopped spitting on the roads as a mark of respect for the only woman I loved ‘coz she did not like it and cried hoarse trying to reform me from this uncivil habit. Have started eating bittergourd (karela in hindi) ‘coz my father loves ‘em and gave up on his son ever realizing the goodness of the vegetable. Started wearing red threads on my wrist since it was given by her ( keeping aside my finicky hatred to anything being tied or wrapped around my hands/arms) . Have started applying some perfume that my father gave although I never use perfumes ( neither does he). It was gifted to him by his elder sister and he gave it to me saying, “I won’t use it, but atleast you try using it.” Have started wearing more of black in my attire ‘coz she likes the colour and subconsciously I have started liking it too. Have read James Patterson, Daniele Steel, J K Rowling ( with lot of reluctance ) , just to transfer myself to her world. All this happened reluctantly but automatically. I knew I was doing something very uncharacteristic to me but the whole body, mind and soul wanted to desperately do all of these. What possesses me is difficult to describe. Is it mental fragility, is it foolishness, is it lunacy?
What more… I have safely preserved many things – like the envelope in which dad sent some application forms for me, the “bindiya – pack” that mom used while on a trip to Bangalore ( she forgot to take it back ), the bill of ipod nano that I bought for the love of my life from my first month’s salary, the sweater that my aunt knitted for me on my 15th birthday ( can u believe it, once I wore that tattered and way too small sweater to a disc ! freaked some ppl with my ‘kool’ fashion sense )
Sometimes I feel I am over doing things. But then its these very things and idiosyncrasies that present me with a reason to live and endure the miseries and disappointments. The fact that the love for them is still alive and kicking in my heart is a reassurance that I am still good inside ( so what if its manifested in some illogical and strange mannerisms ?)
The basic fear that I had was that I might end up losing my love and perspective after starting to work in a big company and living the ‘high life’. But it’s these small things that kept me afloat and helped me retain my inner respect for myself. If it sounds illogical and pretty childish or immature to many, then let it. I care two hoots ! As long as I know that I will do anything ( and I mean anything !) for somebody whom I love and care about, then there is nothing for me to be not expressive about.
All I am doing is, trying to express my love for my dear ones. It becomes “ silly symbolisms” when I do not have anyone to express all this to. And that my dear readers – IS THE BOTTOMLINE – below this lunacy ! God Bless !
I had never touched the talcum powder after my 5th standard in school (after which my mom stopped dressing me up for school). I have always scoffed at people who used to apply the powder on their faces, necks, napes, underarms, chests, and god knows where all ! I used to wonder why we needed to increase our complexion quotient by applying artificial stuff on our faces.
And now here was I applying the white powder on my face every morning. And what could be the reason – My mother, on my departure from my hometown Baroda, gave a Pond’s talcum powder pack for my use. I just exclaimed as to what made her think that I would use it and she just smiled. She said, “Keep it Anu. You might need it !” And boy, she was damn right. I needed it although for not the reasons that she must have even imagined.
Same case with the Pond’s cold cream – I hardly use cream. Oh how yucky it feels to apply that greasy substance on your face ! But now I apply the Pond’s cream everyday on my face because my father gave it to me again on my departure. He went out and bought a whole lot of provisions and assorted stuff while I was packing. The love with which he bought some stuff that are not even used by me, touched me and I silent kept all of those inside my bags. I didn’t have the heart to quarrel with him, the way I usually do. Same case with Colgate Herbal toothpaste. I used to have pitched battles with him when I lived with them. I don’t like the taste of herbal toothpastes and he loves them. I used to buy my own toothpaste while the whole household used the herbal paste bought by him. And now see ! what a change… I buy only that toothpaste. What more, I even fought with my roommates for having misplacedthe toothpaste given by my father. What a sick fellow I have become.
The whole point of these examples is – What happens to oneself when we miss people whom we love so dearly. I am away from my parents and my family and maybe these are the small ways in which I try to still maintain their everyday presence in my life. Right from waking up and saying my prayers to the time when I get back to sleep , each day in my life is peppered with some small gestures, actions, and idiosyncrasies aimed at remembering my dear ones.
I have stopped spitting on the roads as a mark of respect for the only woman I loved ‘coz she did not like it and cried hoarse trying to reform me from this uncivil habit. Have started eating bittergourd (karela in hindi) ‘coz my father loves ‘em and gave up on his son ever realizing the goodness of the vegetable. Started wearing red threads on my wrist since it was given by her ( keeping aside my finicky hatred to anything being tied or wrapped around my hands/arms) . Have started applying some perfume that my father gave although I never use perfumes ( neither does he). It was gifted to him by his elder sister and he gave it to me saying, “I won’t use it, but atleast you try using it.” Have started wearing more of black in my attire ‘coz she likes the colour and subconsciously I have started liking it too. Have read James Patterson, Daniele Steel, J K Rowling ( with lot of reluctance ) , just to transfer myself to her world. All this happened reluctantly but automatically. I knew I was doing something very uncharacteristic to me but the whole body, mind and soul wanted to desperately do all of these. What possesses me is difficult to describe. Is it mental fragility, is it foolishness, is it lunacy?
What more… I have safely preserved many things – like the envelope in which dad sent some application forms for me, the “bindiya – pack” that mom used while on a trip to Bangalore ( she forgot to take it back ), the bill of ipod nano that I bought for the love of my life from my first month’s salary, the sweater that my aunt knitted for me on my 15th birthday ( can u believe it, once I wore that tattered and way too small sweater to a disc ! freaked some ppl with my ‘kool’ fashion sense )
Sometimes I feel I am over doing things. But then its these very things and idiosyncrasies that present me with a reason to live and endure the miseries and disappointments. The fact that the love for them is still alive and kicking in my heart is a reassurance that I am still good inside ( so what if its manifested in some illogical and strange mannerisms ?)
The basic fear that I had was that I might end up losing my love and perspective after starting to work in a big company and living the ‘high life’. But it’s these small things that kept me afloat and helped me retain my inner respect for myself. If it sounds illogical and pretty childish or immature to many, then let it. I care two hoots ! As long as I know that I will do anything ( and I mean anything !) for somebody whom I love and care about, then there is nothing for me to be not expressive about.
All I am doing is, trying to express my love for my dear ones. It becomes “ silly symbolisms” when I do not have anyone to express all this to. And that my dear readers – IS THE BOTTOMLINE – below this lunacy ! God Bless !
Sunday, January 6, 2008
My morning Tea is too cold to gulp!
I finish sleeping ( yeah, it’s a big task for me, STILL!!!) and head for a cup of tea at the neighbourhood tea shop. The air is nippy and the breeze is chilling. Bangalore is cold. I have got my nice branded jacket to keep warm. I am sipping the brown drink, and suddenly I see something near my knees. No, it’s not my brain ( my brain is in my feet - that’s meant to be a joke, in case u didn’t get it)
I am amazed to see a 3 year old girl who has come to the shop with a 1 rupee coin in her hand. In her other hand, she is holding a baby. The baby is 1 year old at the max., their attire, or rather lack of it, made me sit up and take notice. The elder girl is wearing a green frock with frills. The back side has a zip without a zipper. So her back is exposed to the ruthless winter. Its almost a frightening sight – a flimsy rag , an excuse for a frock, acting as the only protection for the little girl against the vagaries of the winter chill! The kid sitting happily on her elder sister’s hips, is even more of a heroine. She is wearing a small white colour shirt over her upper body and is stark naked below her hips ! Imagine ! A one year old child, who is half naked, wandering around in the open with the temperatures being 14-16 degrees Celsius. And here is this 25 year old, athletic and healthy chap, all draped up in three layers of clothing to ‘protect’ him from the cold! I was ashamed of myself ! I felt like digging a deep hole and burying myself into it.
She asked the shopkeeper, in some language, (maybe baby language) for something but was told by the shopkeeper that whatever she asked for costs Rs. 2. I think she asked for some biscuits ( maybe Parle-G ) and was denied , as she had only Rs. 1 with her. The poor child turns and heads back to her hutment nearby. The child on her hips, is still wondering as to why she did not get her munch. And here was I, on to my second cup of tea, which I ordered, just because it was cold, and I feel tea helps to keep you warm. Warm from what, man? Heck, I was now feeling all sick and ashamed of myself. Felt like throwing away all my clothes! Was it my ego? Or was it my ultra sensitive nature? I dunno. I didn’t feel I deserved the comfort that I was in.
No longer has she gone, and there walks in the Rajnikanth of the locality. This is another 3-4 year old boy living in the same hutments as the green frock lady that I met a minute back. I have seen this fellow before too. He has one of the cutest faces and walks with a swagger that is unique to him. He has bright eyes and a round face. He is wearing, again to my dismay - am exhausted to be shocked, by now-, a flimsy T-shirt and a knee length shorts . Again he is also clutching a ten rupee note in his hand. He comes and asks for a packet of some provision, I believe. The shopkeeper again says no and the little fella moves on to another shop. My eyes refuse to revert from him and my legs follow my eyes. I am drawn to the boy with the magnetic personality. He again returns from this shop too, empty-handed. He is walking on his toes, since he cannot bear to let his bare feet touch the cold pavement near the shops. I again feel ashamed ! I have got again a nice pair of branded sandals on my feet.
I am not sure if I feel pity for these poor kids, forced to bear the brunt of this cold or for myself who in spite of being decades elder to them, cannot stop acting like a sissy and ‘ooh” , “aah” about the cold in Bangalore. I ask the shopkeeper , “why can’t you just give the kid the biscuits… after all its just a matter of one rupee? The kid is poor na !” But the shopkeeper told me that if he keeps giving such liberties to them, then the next thing he would have to face is a horde of such poor labourers’ kids swarming his store and asking for such discounts. It’s a valid argument. That’s the sad part of life! Good intentions may not work out as you want and sometimes the heart-felt thing is not the right thing to do. I mean sometimes, what the heart says is not the right way to do things. How sad ! Now I could have easily paid the shopkeeper the balance money and let the kids have their biscuits… but then I refrained from doing so. Why? I honestly do not know. Something inside prevented me from doing it. No, not the least because of the fear of losing my money ( Phuullleeeeezzzz !) I will not be there all the time, and so there is no point in me helping her out only this once. It was the same logic as – “Instead of giving the hungry man a fish, teach him how to fish!”
But all said and done, I still go all decked up in wool and leather for my morning cup of tea, and such small kids still come there once in a while during the morning time for something or the other and I still feel ashamed of myself and admire those kids for their resilience and courage. Its hits me in the gut everytime I see them there and I still do not do anything about it. But again I have never felt like doing anything for such destitute and poor. It’s a shameful admission…. Am I so bad… why do I still go there , have my two rounds of tea, dress up like I am trekking the Mt. Everest and watch the half naked, shivering kids , not even get a decent cup of tea !!!! Why have I become so immune to everything that happens !!!
I am amazed to see a 3 year old girl who has come to the shop with a 1 rupee coin in her hand. In her other hand, she is holding a baby. The baby is 1 year old at the max., their attire, or rather lack of it, made me sit up and take notice. The elder girl is wearing a green frock with frills. The back side has a zip without a zipper. So her back is exposed to the ruthless winter. Its almost a frightening sight – a flimsy rag , an excuse for a frock, acting as the only protection for the little girl against the vagaries of the winter chill! The kid sitting happily on her elder sister’s hips, is even more of a heroine. She is wearing a small white colour shirt over her upper body and is stark naked below her hips ! Imagine ! A one year old child, who is half naked, wandering around in the open with the temperatures being 14-16 degrees Celsius. And here is this 25 year old, athletic and healthy chap, all draped up in three layers of clothing to ‘protect’ him from the cold! I was ashamed of myself ! I felt like digging a deep hole and burying myself into it.
She asked the shopkeeper, in some language, (maybe baby language) for something but was told by the shopkeeper that whatever she asked for costs Rs. 2. I think she asked for some biscuits ( maybe Parle-G ) and was denied , as she had only Rs. 1 with her. The poor child turns and heads back to her hutment nearby. The child on her hips, is still wondering as to why she did not get her munch. And here was I, on to my second cup of tea, which I ordered, just because it was cold, and I feel tea helps to keep you warm. Warm from what, man? Heck, I was now feeling all sick and ashamed of myself. Felt like throwing away all my clothes! Was it my ego? Or was it my ultra sensitive nature? I dunno. I didn’t feel I deserved the comfort that I was in.
No longer has she gone, and there walks in the Rajnikanth of the locality. This is another 3-4 year old boy living in the same hutments as the green frock lady that I met a minute back. I have seen this fellow before too. He has one of the cutest faces and walks with a swagger that is unique to him. He has bright eyes and a round face. He is wearing, again to my dismay - am exhausted to be shocked, by now-, a flimsy T-shirt and a knee length shorts . Again he is also clutching a ten rupee note in his hand. He comes and asks for a packet of some provision, I believe. The shopkeeper again says no and the little fella moves on to another shop. My eyes refuse to revert from him and my legs follow my eyes. I am drawn to the boy with the magnetic personality. He again returns from this shop too, empty-handed. He is walking on his toes, since he cannot bear to let his bare feet touch the cold pavement near the shops. I again feel ashamed ! I have got again a nice pair of branded sandals on my feet.
I am not sure if I feel pity for these poor kids, forced to bear the brunt of this cold or for myself who in spite of being decades elder to them, cannot stop acting like a sissy and ‘ooh” , “aah” about the cold in Bangalore. I ask the shopkeeper , “why can’t you just give the kid the biscuits… after all its just a matter of one rupee? The kid is poor na !” But the shopkeeper told me that if he keeps giving such liberties to them, then the next thing he would have to face is a horde of such poor labourers’ kids swarming his store and asking for such discounts. It’s a valid argument. That’s the sad part of life! Good intentions may not work out as you want and sometimes the heart-felt thing is not the right thing to do. I mean sometimes, what the heart says is not the right way to do things. How sad ! Now I could have easily paid the shopkeeper the balance money and let the kids have their biscuits… but then I refrained from doing so. Why? I honestly do not know. Something inside prevented me from doing it. No, not the least because of the fear of losing my money ( Phuullleeeeezzzz !) I will not be there all the time, and so there is no point in me helping her out only this once. It was the same logic as – “Instead of giving the hungry man a fish, teach him how to fish!”
But all said and done, I still go all decked up in wool and leather for my morning cup of tea, and such small kids still come there once in a while during the morning time for something or the other and I still feel ashamed of myself and admire those kids for their resilience and courage. Its hits me in the gut everytime I see them there and I still do not do anything about it. But again I have never felt like doing anything for such destitute and poor. It’s a shameful admission…. Am I so bad… why do I still go there , have my two rounds of tea, dress up like I am trekking the Mt. Everest and watch the half naked, shivering kids , not even get a decent cup of tea !!!! Why have I become so immune to everything that happens !!!
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