Who am I?

Am I really who I am? Or am I just a portrayal of what people expect me to be?

Am I real? Or am I pretending to be what the society thinks is okay?

Am I the depiction of my true potential? Or am I only struggling to discover the many shades I have to offer?

Often, we are afraid to be our true selves. We might not be aware of it, or we might choose to overlook. But the fact remains …we are only trying to wear masks which make us socially acceptable, and to an extent likable. Because really, who doesn't want to be liked?

But what are we losing here?

We are losing everything we want to be. Everything we can be.

The question remains …is the trade off worth it?

While some may not care to find an answer, I questioned myself …am I trying to be someone different? Am I taking decisions that someone else expects of me? Is that making me happy?

I wanted the answers. I am still looking for a few. Because well, to think of it, I was timid to question myself in the past. But now that I know that an approval from the society is meaningless, I want to break free of the baseless expectations.

Why should anyone stop me from being me? Do they have any right? I don't think so. I'm only answerable to myself. As long as I'm convinced that the color is black, it is black. Let the people call it white.

I behaved how my mom told me to.

I studied how my teachers expected me to.

I talked how my friends wanted me to.

I expressed how society instructed me to.

And I didn't question any of it. I was not thinking then. But I'm thinking now. All I want is to be happy, and make others' eyes twinkle. For that, I need to be who I am.

I want to talk and dance and fight and cry and be alone. I want to go against what others think is right. I want to take a stand against everything that is wrong. In the meantime, it doesn't matter what others think of me.

Well, Who am I? I am trying to be me.

Who will I be? I will be me.

 

"All Your senses are just fine", He said

I was in love. It was one of those high school stories, where you are friends for quite some time before you take a step ahead, and enter the “relationship” phase. Sigh! It may sound weird now. But it was a trend in those days. I guess it is still a trend to date in high school. It is casual. I did not think it to be impermanent, and short-lived. I had a story in mind, but not everything works according to the plan. Does it?

We broke up.

It was tough.

But it was for the best. Because when some of them exit, many more beautiful ones enter. And so did He. The Hero of my story.

I never took real notice of him until then. That one conversation which awakened me to his presence.

He had known it all along, about how I was struggling to move on in life. Now when I look back, I realize how he really was there with me, for me, at every step. If I had only noticed it back then! He was a friend. More of a classmate in college. But he became more. Much more.

He started the conversation. It was the usual one, like any two friends would have. But soon enough, he read the gloominess in my eyes. He became uncomfortable. I could sense that. He wanted to see the sparkle in my eyes, he told me. I smiled, and said “I am trying.” “Trying is not enough. You need to move on.” I was surprised he knew. He knew it so well. I tried to look away.

“Close your eyes”, he said. I was confused. “Close your eyes”, he said again. I did as instructed, obedient as a little school girl. Well, I was too tired to disobey. “Can you see your self – the carefree one?” I did not know what to say. I tried to see myself. I did. I nodded.

He did not say anything for quite some time. We just stood like that. It must have looked funny, from a distance. But then, I felt comforted in a weirdly un-comforting way. “I am here for you”, he said next. I opened my eyes and looked at him. “Can you hear me say that?” I did not know where the conversation was going. “Yes”, I said. “Great!” he said.

He took my hand in his, “Can you feel the touch?” “Obviously”, I said. “Awesome!” he said.

I am generally not the one to feel awkward during a conversation, but here, this guy was asking me strange things. Why? I asked myself. I really thought of saying a polite good bye and leave. This was not going anywhere.

He must have somehow sensed what I was thinking about. “Just five minutes, and then you can go”, he said. I was taken aback. Could he be reading my mind secretly? How?

“I had bought this chocolate for you earlier today. Will you please have a bite?” he asked. I was in no mood to have a chocolate! But I did. Again, like an obedient school girl. “How does it taste?” “It is fine. Just how a roast-almond tastes.” By the way, how did he know that I liked roast almond is still unanswered.

“Take a deep breath in, and out. Can you do it for me?” he said. “Why?” I asked. He made such a puppy like face; it was hard to say anything else. He still uses this tactic to make me do things I really don’t want to do. I breathed in and out. I thought as if I was at ease after like months. I could sense the breeze, and felt light. I liked it.

What was this guy doing? And why? We were decent friends back in first year. But over the last few months, I hadn't even bothered to stay in touch. I hadn't wished him on his birthday. I guess it just went by. Or it didn't? I don’t know. I did not even care. I was struggling in my own life, trying to pull back everything together.

“All your senses are just fine”, he said. “Huh?” I looked straight into his eyes. They were beautiful. They were hard to miss. And still I had missed them, missed him for so long.

“You are still responding to everything around you. You are living. Isn't that great?” he was saying.

“I don’t get your point. I know all my senses are fine.”

“I know it was one important part of your life. But isn't it over? Haven’t you cried enough? Shouldn't you be taking it easy now? Your senses want you to feel everything around you. There are people who miss seeing your smile, miss hearing your loud shrieks, miss getting your hugs, miss seeing you eat with happiness, miss seeing you content. And everything is still okay. It can be made better. You are not trying hard.”

I stood there …listening to whatever he was saying. Many of my friends had tried to make me feel better, and given me all those pep talks. But wasn't this beautiful? Wasn't this so much more meaningful? Or did I feel so at that point in time?

“Don’t give up Moti! You are a tough nut to crack. Aren't you?”

Yes, he called me Moti back then. He won’t dare say that now. I run quite a tight ship these days. I smiled. Not the fake smile. A real one.

“Why are you being so sweet to me? I asked.

“Am I not always sweet?” he asked.

“Not really.”

“Well, let me begin it from today then. I expect to get sweetness in return though.”

“What do you want me to do in return?”

“Smile a little more every day. Promise?”

I laughed. It was a feel good laughter. I couldn't thank him enough, for he made me think. I took a minute during that conversation, and tried to make sense of what I was doing. Crying over something which cannot be repaired. But not everything should be repaired. You dispose of the unimportant things. Don’t you?

“I promise. And thank you.”

 He gave me a high five, and that broad grin. Obviously, he told me not to thank him again. We said goodbyes and walked towards our respective vehicles.

I thought about this conversation the whole time while driving back home. I couldn't believe I was thinking about something else for a while. Things had to fall into place. But it was time; I made sure I try harder to make things better. I smiled.

This is one of those conversations that stick with you for a very long time, and you go over it in your head, again and again. Because you like it that way.

But had it been not for him, I would have struggled a little more to make sense of my senses.

We came closer. That was not a surprise. For someone who could read me like that, it was certain we had a story of our own. And we are living it now. And I couldn't be happier. I couldn't be more thankful, to my senses, and to him, for making me feel alive! Once again!

Thank you.

I am in love again. This time, not because it is a trend. But because it makes sense!

Tonight!

Sitting under the stars tonight

I wonder when I will see the light

I look above to understand the signs

Is there something that I need to define?

It is a wait, a wait so long

Almost a melancholy song

Every day brings a ray of hope

They turn me down, difficult to cope

Again I try to write a new story

To reach towards that glory

I know the smile will be true again

The way gladness comes after the pain

But have I forgotten that delight

The pleasant sight

To feel carefree for one more time

See again that prime

They say it is all about the wait

I say maybe it is just fate

While a few have it all too soon

My sun will shine bright at noon

I will sing like the birds – not bothering about what others think

It will all change within a blink

And I will have a dreamless sleep

The happiness will again run deep!

Because without you ...

Tonight is another ordinary night

When I’m missing your sight

It is now an unpleasant bit

My life doesn't seem to fit

Because without you, my love, there’s a void very deep

You, close to me, I always want to keep!

I remember all the times I had you in my arms

How you always helped me to be calm

If ever there was a crisis too big

Every possible solution you would dig

Now it all seems so colorless

My life is a mess

Because without you, my love, there’s a void very deep

You, close to me, I always want to keep!

Those days seem dreamlike, when I could feel your touch

I shall fail to express I miss you how much

That comfort while lying next to you

Come to me, my love, do you need another cue?

But slowly your scent is fading away

Quite to my dismay

Because without you, my love, there’s a void very deep

You, close to me, I always want to keep!

I see the happy faces around

How beautifully to one another they are bound

I wonder why that cannot be for us

Perhaps too late to discuss

I won’t lie about how badly I want things to be a cakewalk

Life appears to be an un-moving clock

Because without you, my love, there’s a void very deep

You, close to me, I always want to keep!

But there’s something that makes me believe

We've something so beautiful, we just can’t leave

How can we not try?

When all we want is to be high

High on life together we shall be

Close your eyes and you will see

Because with you, my love, there’s no void so deep

You, always close to me, awake and when I shall sleep!

NOTperfect

We have always imagined the perfect. We always strive for the perfections. We only want the very best to happen to us. We have been fortunate to inch closer to perfection.

But is it always perfect? Is it always easy? A cakewalk?

I am afraid not. Because perfection is a concept. A unique concept. But many of us do live it …almost live it …a few are near it …the others are not too distant. And there are a few who are far away. Very far.

There are perfect individuals. Almost perfect ones too. They have almost everything one needs, or one can dream of. They are in a place in life where they are glad, they are content. Contrast next. There are the NOTperfect ones. They don’t know how to move ahead. Every second step is a struggle. Every new day is a battle. But do they give up? Oh no. they are trying to find their own perfection.

There are perfect relationships. The bright ones, the vibrant ones, who are out there – not afraid of what tomorrow brings, they know nothing can dampen their existence. And then there are the ones who are constantly grinded – NOTperfect. Nowhere closer. They are lost …trying to carve out their own paths. There are continuous fights, and abuses, oh also! …a few beatings. Do they give up? Some of them do. The others are too afraid to let go. They have a strange hope of finding their own bit of perfection.

Sigh perfection!

Why perfection?

There are perfect homes. Loving parents and obedient children. Happy faces and wishes fulfilled. Up-to-date fashion knowledge and glamor quotient. Sweet. Next, the almost-perfect ones. Striving to become the best. And the okay ones. These are the ones who are trying to be content.

And then there are those NOTperfect homes. They don’t know what having a family feels like …what togetherness is. They know something is missing, they know they can never be perfect. It is weird to imagine homes which are not happy. Homes where there is less of warmth, and more of anger. Homes which negate the essence of their very existence. But do they stop living? Do they stop dreaming? I am afraid not. Because they know …somewhere down the lane, they will either find their perfect world, or give up on the concept of perfection.

So what is it that keeps the NOTperfect ones moving? Hope? Belief? Or may be a desire …a distant, difficult desire to become perfect!

But is perfection enough? Though we may feel so, it is not. Really.

We all have heard the philosophy “Imperfections are beautiful”. But only a few of us know how difficult it is to be NOTperfect, and still go out there in front of the world and smile. More so laugh. Act like you are the perfect ones too. It pains. It hurts. But you have to continue to smile.

Why?

Cry out if you are hurt. It doesn’t show how weak you are. It only shows how you have accepted your imperfection. It is not a sin to be imperfect. It is only a temporary state. The moment you accept that some things are the best the way they are, you are at peace. Instead, you can work on the other almost-perfect things in life …in the end what do you want? Perfection is it?

Go for it. But not after losing the calmness of your mind … But after winning over the feeling of being “NOTperfect”.

Eid Mubarak!

It is Eid tomorrow. Yes, Eid. A festival I was rarely aware about. And had I not been friends with a few people, I would be completely clueless about this very beautiful festival. Today I know. And I’m glad about it.

Actually, aren’t all festivals beautiful? There is something unique about each one of them …be it the lighting of the diyas, or playing with colors, be it singing carols and welcoming “Santa”, or dancing gleefully to welcome the Goddess of Strength …the list is endless. The list is only a way to depict how we, human beings, love to celebrate. Everything. Almost everything.

But there is a missing link. A missing link between the festivals we celebrate and the ones we don’t celebrate …between the things we understand and the things we refuse to understand …the happiness we believe in and the happiness which we decline to accept.

I had always wondered about this disconnect. Isn’t the main idea is to bring in happiness? Is the reason behind the happiness more important than simply seeing those happy faces? Alas! The answer for a few is a “Yes”. Though, I am glad these answer bearers are decreasing almost as steadily as I want them to, there are still a few of them …who refuse to see the light.

Why should we remain unknown to the great things in life? Unless of course, we are too sure that they are not meant for us. But how can we be sure? Ever? We cannot be. Everything is meant for everyone …somehow or the other. You just need to find that out. In due course of time, everything gets clearer. All the silly differences between the caste/creed/religion move out of sight. You start respecting the person. Not her culture/religion.

And why should we even care to judge anyone on the basis of what religion she follows? Or what festival he celebrates? Too petty no! Well eventually, it is about being happy, and no one cares how you do it, how you spread those extra smiles and bring that extra tad bit of togetherness …as long as you do it. Make someone feel good, and content, and thankful!

Being a Hindu shouldn’t stop me from celebrating Eid. Being a Muslim shouldn’t stop anyone from visiting a temple. Being a Christian, shouldn’t stop you from being a part of Durga Pooja. There shall be no place for these matters, if we concentrate only on making more and more space for Happiness. Yeah. Time to try it out.

Well, I am trying. And it feels so much better …better when tiffin with Biryani arrives at my place on every Eid, when home baked cakes are served on Christmas, when we dance till we drop dead on Navratri, and when we have a dozen people over on Diwali!

In the end, it is all about harmony and concord. It is about friendship. It is about all religions being one. It is about us “being Humans”. It is about the extra smiles we spread. It is about less of hatred …and more of love!

I loved Rains!

I loved rains. Not anymore.

And frankly, never have I had time to think about this transition. But recently, it struck me. I live in Manipal … one of those beautiful places in India, known for the heavy rains. I have often noticed people take respite in the monsoons. The rains in Manipal are sudden and take you by surprise, almost every time. There is something about rains – everyone (except a few like me) eagerly wait for it, welcome it with such big smiles.

I, however, find it the dullest season. It is so soggy, so sluggish. You feel lazy. You are actively inactive. Your clothes won’t dry. You will be drenched every time you go out on a two-wheeler, without proper aid. There will be weird looking insects around. And to top that, those slimy worms. Ugh!

But then there are people who feel rains are lovely, associate it with the season of love …almost a synonym for “romance”. They find the cool breeze refreshing, and they won’t mind getting soaked in water, every once in a while. Personal choices.

I belonged to the latter set of people once upon a time. But it was so different then. No stupid phones to carry, no credit cards or expensive clutches! This saved on the “worry” part of getting soaked in rains. Further, there was no hurry to reach somewhere …to keep moving. This saved on the “have so many things to do” part. You had all the time in the world to just stand there and rejoice in the rains.

What happens when the muddy water is splashed across the very expensive footwear and clothes you are wearing (showing off)? You curse the person who did that evil thing to you! And later you curse the God damn season. The running around in flip flops, floaters and sneakers, splashing water from the puddles in the past was a totally different scene. Much cute, I must say. You did not care about your clothes, or anything else. All you wanted to do was freak out! Because hey!! Rains are here! :D

Driving in the rains? I shouldn’t start rattling about that. It is annoying. And most of us will agree to that. Facts no! The difference back then was you were picked up in cars, so you could afford to be all drenched, and yet there will be someone with a towel waiting to dry you, and take you home!

Clothes …dry or not? Were you even concerned about that? Not me. Now you know. When you wash clothes, and they don’t dry just when you thought you will wear that specific shirt to work tomorrow. It gets on to you. You curse the season again!

There was no limit to crazy energy levels in those days. Haha! I say “those days” as if that phase was some ten years ago or so. It was not. Trust me. Maybe three years. But it sure feels like a long time ago! Now when the energy ceases to exit, it is easier to blame the dull weather. Who doesn’t like the blame game?

And when you have to sit through boring lectures and ridiculous meetings … Where is room for romance? All those long drives become a thing of the past.

Is the list endless? I guess so. The stark comparisons? You cannot hold me responsible for not loving the rains anymore. I loved it for all the lovely things it brought with it – a hot cup of chaai with the best of people, mom’s garam pakodas, paper boats, water splashes, and long drives. I miss all of that undoubtedly. Those times can be recreated, every now and then. But I doubt if the love for rains will come back.

I loved rains. Once upon a time.