Moments and Memoirs

2010-06-26T06:29:00.000-07:00

Impatiently she waits,
for the blow that awaits

The end of this dream,
though frivolous it does seem

His kisses were like no other,
she keenly understood his power

That he lived for today, she knew,
while in his arms she lay

As she let all will disappear,
she feared the end was near

2010-06-26T06:24:00.000-07:00

You lifted me up
but let me fall

You held my hand
yet dealt the worst blow

Like it was nothing at all
a part of the daily flow

You try to restore my smile
with false commiseration

I entreat you foolishly
while you show no compunction

You give me miserable joy
through every single guile

But unbeknown to me
my spirit is yours to defile

en route to canada water from north greenwich- an endless traffic jam!

2009-11-03T06:58:00.000-08:00

I’m at a junction
Where every malfunction
Plagues each individual
Yet seems oddly casual;

There are rows of red glares
Amidst shrill horn blares
The silence is deafening
But the weather is threatening

I feel terribly testy
Though I was happily zesty
When will this end?
I can’t see the road’s bend!

The skyline is alight,
Impervious to my plight
My patience wears thin
I can’t bear this dreary din

Were I to turn back time
I wouldn’t be writing this rhyme!

2009-11-03T06:51:00.000-08:00

Tormented beyond measure, yet there is no way out.
I can’t resume normality, there’s nothing to be done!
I knew of this eventuality, this horrible depravity
I do know I need out
But there is no respite
I am in severe doubt
Of my capacity to love again
Of the ability to find peace
Keenly aware of your incapacity to love me
Equally certain of my own deceptive faith
I persist as a mere plaything in your hands
Twisted out of shape and turned to benefit
Stagnant I remain, unaware of what awaits
Gone beyond extremes of my own imagination
I am held captive by my worst follies
Yet I am inexplicably bound to you
Despite my inevitable miseries

a long day

2009-08-29T16:16:00.000-07:00

"and then the cookie crumbled"...

9am
My eyes are burning because they cannot do this anymore, every limb aches in protest and yet I linger on, punishing myself, fighting something that is trying to tell me otherwise. Every bit of good sense asks me abandon this feeling, but I persist in my foolishness.

11am
No, I have not been able to relax and don't think I can for a while. I keep wondering what it will take. Each second the unhappy realization hits me and I feel nothing but misery. The crumbling cookie is all I can think of.

My level of self-destruction is legendary. Oddly enough, knowledge of that fact does not prompt me to act any differently.

2pm
It was time to clear my head, though it was a trip with a purpose. Unfortunately, the stuffy tube ride to Notting Hill did not cure me. The crumbling cookie was all I could think of. Neither the sights, sounds and curious delights of the antique market, my impulsive purchases nor....

6pm
...the endless episodes of 'How I met your Mother' that I blankly watched, upon my return, did the trick.

7pm
I resumed the number-crunching, although it resembled data entry today. I had lost track of all meaning, demolishing tissue after tissue as I went along. The crumbling cookie again.

Midnight
All promises to the self forgotten, every ounce of will astray. It is too powerful and outside my control. I cannot help it, despite myself. In the distance, the cookie continues to crumble.

Extremes

2009-08-29T02:52:00.000-07:00

I wonder sometimes if I am blessed or cursed, for everything important to me, functions in extremes. Either there is love to an extent I cannot bear or to a strange degree where I am left longing for something more that I know can never be. It comes upon me in awfully contorted ways, where some days make me feel nothing short of bliss and others bring waves of self-doubt and hopelessness. There are either people who profess they would do anything for you (and actually test that theory, with often disastrous results), while others operate in circles, professing nothing, but meaning everything. Yet when the disappointment hits, it brings with it, a host of irreconcilable feelings. Consequently, I find myself behaving like a classic bipolar disorder case. A lost cause, at that.

I sound confused even to my own ears, yet I am perfectly clear in what I am trying to say. Therein lies the extremity in my own personality. It isnt a wonder then that the people around me fall into one of these two categories. I think there wont ever be that steady balance I am searching for. Or maybe I am just content to let myself be miserable, one way or another. Perhaps I am conditioned to look for flaws that define a variety of "perfection" in my eyes. It is that ideal I am drawn to...whether it lets me down time and time again...brings me utter joy or total despair, is immaterial.

the walk home

2009-08-03T15:53:00.001-07:00

Even when there's absolutely no one with you, it is amazingly difficult to feel completely alone. There are people around you who manage to make you feel like a vital part of their experience. The city too draws you into its adventures. It is like living each moment through them, experiencing a bit of their lives and therefore feeling like a tiny, yet significant part of the whole.

I played photographer to a big Indian family (who looked like they were on their first holiday abroad), to a rather cute couple (who for some strange reason wanted a picture kissing on the Millennium Bridge) and an old gaily British bunch of people, probably from the country. I sat on the steps of St.Paul's eating a sandwich, watching people go about their business. I heard snatches of conversation all the way home and concluded that Londoners had two favourite topics of conversation:

Love, life and relationships
Office gossip

As I walked on, there were wonderfully delectable hot dogs oozing with mustard and a smiling old man selling caramelized peanuts. I smelt gelato as I walked past the Globe and made a mental note to treat myself to it soon (the strawberry flavour, to be precise). Hearing the energetic chatter from 'The Swan", I imagined the cast laughing over some wine in preparation for the evening's performance of 'Troilus and Cressida". Even the Thames didn't seem as grey that day! I continued to breathe in the sights and sounds of London, with a serene expression on my face and a hint of a smile forming at my lips.

Watching people downing their pints, engaged in conversation, I absorbed every bit of the lively atmosphere at 'Vinopolis'. The smell of peri-peri chicken wafted through as I passed Nando's. My eyes scanned the remains of the day's spoils at Borough Market. I finally turned a busy corner on to Borough High Street. At Sainsbury, I talked myself into buying exciting dinner, even though I had food at home. It was one of those days when I would not have resented splurging ten pounds on a nice dinner and wine somewhere. But I was homeward bound!

I turned to cross, decided to be brave and take another route back. I was home within minutes, feeling oddly satiated.

Justice/Fairness

2009-07-29T13:18:00.000-07:00

I have never really contemplated the difference between unfairness and injustice. But today my mind was drawn towards these ideas. I realized that the two terms are often used interchangeably, but if you really ponder over it, there are finer differences between the two. They are not completely dissimilar concepts; however,unfairness, in my opinion, is about comparing your own outcomes relative to those of another. Now this could be someone significant to you or not. That is immaterial. Another ready example that comes to mind is an unfair advantage, for instance Phelp's controversial swimming gear that apparently gave him an edge over the others. Some lament that the world is 'unfair', yet others rightly term it as 'unjust'. Does the difference lie in language only?Or is it really more profound?

To me, justice is age-old and notions of injustice, while encompassing ideas of unfairness, include a broader spectrum. For instance, it is unfair that I need a Schengan visa to travel Europe, while Americans do not, but it certainly isn't unjust. However, it is unjust if I as a woman am discriminated against based on the fact that I am a member of the 'weaker sex.' Thus, in terms of impact, justice is a greater concern than unfairness. It transcends the personal and hence assumes far greater significance.

They will continue to be concepts whose boundaries are blurred. They will invariably merge in certain situations and in others stand vehemently in opposition to one another. But these subtle distinctions can make a world of difference, when you take into account the broader implications, both personally and globally.

10 Reasons why you should pick a thesis topic of your choice

2009-07-23T12:13:00.000-07:00

1. Imagine your most boring chore, something that you are simply forced to do every single day. (Maybe the dishes or laundry or something!) Anything that is completely devoid of excitement.

2. One of those bitter medicines that do not go down the throat smoothly and that you can taste while swallowing. You keep gulping down more water for it to ease the throat, but that bad taste only magnifies.

3. When you come to think of reading as the least desired activity, when you know you list it as one your favourite activities otherwise.

4. When you create situations in your head where your interviews and surveys seem to take on wonderful relevance; but unfortunately, in your case, you are convinced your research will give you dull, drab answers.

5. You truly believe it will not change the world. It is an 'original' piece of work, twisted to other's requirements and you are left as the dummy who is carrying it out dutifully.

6. There are almost always lunches, dinners and concerts to go to...or mindless films to watch, each time you glance at the readings.

7. The damned 'Dissertation' folder on C drive haunts you in your sleep. You have homicidal ideation and want to tear it apart with an axe.

8. You're always in a tearing hurry to change the subject when fellow students ask you about your topic.

9. If forced to talk about it, you give unwarranted, lengthy explanations about why you were compelled to choose it and how would much rather have researched leadership. You then rationalize that there is always time for that during your PhD.

10. You create 'breaks' like these to vent on your blog and write ten useless pointers that neither relax your mind nor motivate you to get back to work!!

The simplest things are sometimes the hardest things in the world

2009-07-14T15:20:00.001-07:00

It is the of the most difficult things in the world to let go. Attachment has this knack of hurting one desperately. There is so much left unsaid.

I encountered something that knocked the air right out of me. I did not want to react the way I did. It took every ounce of control to compose myself. The unhappy realization hit me like a tonne of bricks. It was so unexpected. I had imagined much superior handling capacity. I really used to be so convinced about my ability to deal with such eventualities. It hurt so much, that all I could do was turn and almost run away. I wished I could disappear. I always scorned those who could not face the finite, but that is probably because I have an amazing ability to escape. But today, there was no easier alternative.

I kept walking, bleak, dejected or just to put it plainly, unbelievably sad. But then I paused, got my thoughts together and stayed. My eyes searched for something I could not find. Painful as it was, I smiled, wished I had said at least a simple 'thank you' for touching my life in a way no human being has. Maybe I will say this someday.

But for now, until we see each other again, I will keep walking.

2009-06-07T13:06:00.000-07:00

Its going on, nice and easy, controllable I suppose, but spiralling out of my grasp on a few occasions. I thought I was stronger than this. I'm being made to forcibly confront every fear, each insecurity and mindless worry. There is so much sorrow, yet I laugh each day, cherishing every moment, knowing it was to end. The finality is cruelly sharp. I wish I could say nochalantly that it is the easiest thing in the world to move forward and stay on track.

Productive thinking, constructive imagery and lots of self-talk...the one who bravely said she didnt need anyone, is now at these terrible crossroads. There is no light at the end of the bleak tunnel. Yes its going to hurt, but like all things painful, this too shall pass. She will emerge stronger, knowing that everything cannot always go her way. She persuades herself to face the truth each day, fully aware that reiterating it will accustom her to the reality of it all. No of course everyone cannot behave the way you wish them to...life will not necessarily follow the expected path. But telling herself the truth each day is a fruitful exercise, reminding herself the of the futility of it all helps.

Shock therapy

2009-04-29T11:16:00.001-07:00

Have I truly disconnected from it in such a way that seems humanly impossible? Why do I behave like this is not happening to me but rather treat it like a bad scene from a third-grade movie. The events play out in my head when I least expect them to. The intrusive thoughts are maddeningly frequent on some days and few, yet painful on others. I wonder if I want it to revisit me, so I can be reminded of the gravity of the most uncontrollable situation I have ever faced. Suddenly, but surely enough, the contradictions begin to unfold...of course it was controllable, I tell myself, while another voice whispers that nothing could have been done to avoid it. Would I much rather let the guilt trips get the better of me or try to calm myself into some semblance of sanity?The answer is confusing. If the guilt ceases to exist, then the whole event is wiped out from my mind. But I cannot have that. I know I must remember every crawling bit of that evening that changed my world.

Decision-making was never my forte, but this one sadly made me fall into the very worst labyrinth that I cannot escape from. Maybe this is what shock feels like. No stress, no fear or anxieties...just a remarkable numbness. A feeling that leaves one so deadened that almost nothing can shake one out of it. Of course, it is ridiculously simple to maintain a facade of normality...and it certainly is a requirement. But to dissociate from something which takes epic proportions in your mind, is scarily unhealthy. You feel, yet you don't. You stir, but it induces sleep. When there's wakefulness, your mind draws a blank. When there is uncomfortable silence with yourself, it creeps up on you. Dismiss it, it grows back. Disregard it, it pursues you. Sometimes it hurts like a thousand pin-pricks or a great big fire or worse yet, saltwater filling your lungs. But you laugh it off and say its some kind of bad dream.

A magical evening

2009-04-01T23:41:00.000-07:00

I am not much of a romantic. But I have to say, I have my moments. Recently, I was in Vienna at the State Opera House. During the guided tour, my mind conjured up images of all the possible backstage romances that may have taken place over the years. Maybe it was because Vienna had an air of romance about it...or maybe it was the awe-inspiring interiors of the famous opera house. What can I say?The place had an aura about it. Little did I know that I would be watching a performance in the very same building that very night!

Cheapest tickets in Europe....4 Euro..standing tickets, but nonetheless completely amazing. It was a dream come true. I did not care that my feet ached continuously for 3 hours or that it was hot and stuffy. It did not matter that everyone had made a dash for the galleries with their scarves, a strange phenomenon that we knew nothing about. Yes, we were reduced to standing on the middle staircase and craning our necks, while cursing tall Europeans. But "Romeo and Julia" was absolutely incredible. Ballet is one of the most graceful, expressive dance forms. The sets were mind-blowing. The acting, or should I say the dancing, was magnificent. When Juliet died, it was a heart-wrenching moment for the audience. It could not have been performed better. I have to admit, I had goosebumps several times during the third act.

I left 'Statsoper' with a warm, heady feeling (which for a change, had nothing to do with alcohol!), with images of the night's performance imprinted in my mind forever. I do still maintain that I am not a true-blue romantic, just an occasional one! I suppose it had everything to do with watching a truly magical rendition of the play...certainly a night to remember!

Fool's Day

2009-04-01T02:32:00.000-07:00

I have made it quite a habit to write my posts on the first of each month. Ironically, it is Fool's Day today. It makes me want to reflect about myself, especially how so many of you perceive me as a naive idiot. Well, maybe I am! I amaze myself at this ability to go through life like a bumbling fool. No wonder I trip on the street each day and almost get hit by cabs, no wonder I make mistakes without wanting to. It is no surprise that I have the capacity to give up everything or bestow all that I have on one idea. It isn't beyond belief that I cherish a happy memory or a wish or dare to hope against all hope that it may come true. As much as I would hate to admit it, I believe in the idea of 'someday'. If that qualifies me as a proud member in the idiot category, then so be it.

For someone whose last 2 years have been so full of pain, I suppose I draw comfort in being a dreamer. My absent-mindedness which often annoys those around me helps to give me comfort. In naivete, I seek strange solace. Hopelessly believing in certain things can be almost perfectly juxtaposed with remaining staunchly practical and realistic about other things. Yes, I come across as a confused, rather mixed up, highly contradictory person. Unfortunately, it works for me. If I then fall squarely into the fool's domain, let me learn to live with it.

the idea of me

2009-03-09T14:31:00.000-07:00

no i will not make excuses for my behaviour towards you.i do not care if its justified or not. because i dont have to justify myself to you or anyone else. i shall not be held accountable for all that goes wrong in your life.it is essential for me to exist as a separate entity, in an unquestioning, accepting atmosphere. it is important for those elusive shreds of peace i crave.you bring out the worst in me. i amaze myself at my capacity to hurt you.i need to be distinct from you or else i fear i will lose the essence of me.yes, you care, maybe you idolize me, worship the idea of me...but that is not who i am. i am not that person you want me to be. i wish you could grab those few remaining bits of self-respect and walk away.you do not want to be affected by my destructiveness.i guess you have already borne the brunt.but i have too.there is a reason for this behaviour, but not one that i shall ever offer to you as an explanation.try to back-track and come to your own conclusions.do attempt to conceive of a life without me.it would be fundamental to your well being and mine.i am sorry, not apologetic, but sorry nonethless...dont know if that makes sense to you, but it makes perfect sense to me. i am meant to fight my own battles.i dont need you or anyone else.if only you could understand and accept...and not be captured by the unreal idea of me.

February

2009-02-28T13:01:00.000-08:00

I wonder if I have made it a habit to write on the last day of each month. If so, I would certainly like to grow out of it and write more frequently. Well, February has been an eventful month. From hours of useless gossip, hanging out, visiting street markets, getting random threats, making impulsive decisions to travel, embarking on a company project, being offered a European Masters programme to getting bad grades on assessed essays...it has been quite a packed month! I really wanted to make each day count and I believe I have, in a strange, convoluted manner. Yes, I will miss these days at Carr-Saunders...they have been quite something! I am not sure what I might have to look forward to once I move on from here. The self-confidence plummets very often and I force myself to stay positive. I reinforce that which is good, yet sometimes the picture is so very grey. I try not to imagine what my life would be like a year from now.

In that respect, February with its amazing pace has not allowed me even a moment to stop and introspect. I need more months like these, they help me function better..there is an ease and a comfort level that is unparalleled.

Fears

2009-01-31T11:07:00.000-08:00

I am beginning to get increasingly frightened about the future. The prospect of this year ending is just so scary. I have no idea what lies ahead. What is even worse is the fact that I have always been excited about the unknown. But for a change, I am scared sick. More so, I enjoy these lazy days and weeks here. My time in London has been a breath of fresh air...a wonderful departure from the anxious, tense and tough days in Bombay. Be it the people I've met and grown fond of or just the spirit of the city itself or living life on my own terms...I suppose I am going to miss it. Okay, I don't 'suppose'..I am definitely going to miss it. The idea that it is soon going to be all over is something I have to come to terms with. For that acceptance to come about, I will need to push myself considerably. I did not think it would be this hard for me, especially because I always knew this was practically a 10 month course.

I am starting to think my recent bouts of tears have something to do with this unsettling feeling. I cannot get it out of my head that there are just 4 months to go. I always knew this would end but what about it is so hard for me to accept? I have always been able to detach from things, people etc and snap right back to another life, another place, another world. The idea of heading back to Bombay..that awful atmosphere...those everyday battles...the harsh realities...well, it is horribly unnerving. But I do know I have to orient myself towards it, work within my own crazy mind to develop a new frame of reference. I am not sure what lies ahead. But I will hope that it is positive...or at least, not completely negative! For one thing I've learned here is to keep an open mind, not think excessively or ruminate pointlessly and most importantly, just 'be'.

Strange solace

2009-01-23T06:43:00.000-08:00

I think I function in a rather strange way. Odd things make me happy. I find comfort in peculiarities. Anyone observing me would think I am indeed weird. But as long as it keeps me content, I honestly do not care. My dysfunctionality often tends to be infectious. People happily label me as a 'nutcase' and laugh at/with me. It is both my weakness and a source of strength. I think it complements my contradictions very well.

Looking back at the past one month, there have been a few decisions that could, in principle, be regarded as fundamentally flawed. Yet in that 'wrong', I find elements of 'right'. Maybe those decisions were mindless, completely unbeneficial to me or even had (or will have) potentially negative consequences. They quite possibly arose out of nothing at all. But as long as I can live without regret and continue to seek solace in my shortcomings, it is okay.

Strange, random and often inexplicable deeds/behaviour continue to dominate my life. As I go about making simple, yet potentially complex choices each day, I wonder if I should stop and retrace my steps. Only to realize that I gladly thrive on such mindlessness. So I suppose its only fair that I stay on track. It makes me happy and keeps me sane. Well...at least, others too can have a good laugh and congratulate themselves on their superiority.

a beautiful distortion

2009-01-18T11:55:00.000-08:00

Ever since the year 2009 crept up upon us, three friends have been joined with their partners in holy matrimony and all that! Lorena, one of my closest school friends, Carol, 'dearest of all dears' and Pria, an entertainer throughout college. Funnily, all three have been quite promiscuous throughout the time I've known them. Its strange for me to actually conceive of the fact that they took the final plunge! I mean, what could have led them to take that decision and stick by it. Was it hard for them to walk down the aisle and speak those vows out loud. Did they really mean it when they proclaimed that they would love their partners forever? Is there such a thing as forever....

I've often wondered what pushes one to take such a daunting step. How can one know with complete certainty that they are ready to spend the rest of their lives with a man and with him only. The element of risk is so startlingly clear that I cannot imagine how 91% of the world can be so risk-taking in nature. It is such a frightening thought that someone's existence can be tied to yours. The extent of dependance it can potentially foster can squeeze one out of every ounce of self-reliance. You become infinitely tied to this other person, at the risk of almost losing your own identity. (Well, you do literally lose part of your identity, unless you choose not to). It also seems to me to be such an uphill task to maintain the 'love', the spark or whatever else that is needed to keep marriages alive. Related to this
is the fear that you would inexplicably stop loving that person, or vice-versa. If there are so many little things to worry about, so many concerns that are real, is it really worth all the effort? Marriage is supposed to be a remarkably splendid journey, I cannot help but wonder if its a journey I'm ever willing to embark on.

My apologies to anyone reading this. I did not mean to speak in such a manner about an age-old institution. All I'm saying is that I am probably not cut out for it, because of my own dysfunctional nature and the dysfunctionality (if there is such a word!), that I spread around me. Sorry, my description of the fears associated with marriage are simply a beautiful distortion.

feelings~expectations~

2009-01-06T10:57:00.000-08:00

I imagine one cannot control one's feelings for someone. This is why they are so impromptu and follow so natural a course of things. Sometimes they come out of nowhere and hit you in the strangest ways possible. When they do, you end up feeling silly and helpless, sometimes even pathetic. But pathetically giggly and smiling. I assume they creep up on you so insidiously that you don't even know when it happened. You try and pinpoint that one precise moment where you started caring for that person and you amazingly cannot seem to do so. But you smile, in the pleasant knowledge that you are happy and so are they, for the most part. However ephemeral, but happy nonetheless.

With feelings come expectations. Now these are the ones to watch out for. They crawl into your head and forcibly put in thoughts you would rather avoid. They lead you to want some things that cannot be. There are longings and imaginings that you'd rather confine to the recesses of your mind. You try to rationalize with yourself, you rebuke yourself even, or try to regain focus. But the expectations have already made their way into your brain. Needless to say, you are now the perfect candidate for a steady string of disappointments. These are such inconsequential let-downs that people would laugh if they ever heard. But they take on such meaning and significance for you, that you cannot help but let them have their expected impact. But of course, you are bound to have high hopes that are invariably thrashed...but that is completely justifiable, one would suppose.

Feelings...expectations...disappointments...moments of gladness..they all form part of this cycle, that you would have done best to avoid in the first place. But once they are set in motion..well, lets just say the big wheels keep on turning!

Stranger than fiction

2009-01-03T07:23:00.000-08:00

It is amazing how things change so dramatically over the course of a single day. There I was feeling completely shattered, feeling sorry for myself, when I decided to step into the kitchen for a glass of wine. Me and a girl who had no idea it was my birthday cracked open a bottle of white and we drank like there was no tomorrow. As the booze insiduously hit my brain, we started chatting with two Italian men, who came up to us, under the pretext of a cool number game. We spoke with them for about an hour, after which it was decided we would go to dinner.

Amaretto...a decent, though rather expensive Italian restaurant, where we ate a big meal. All the while, one of these guys stared at me, to the point of extreme discomfort. I averted my gaze each time, and tried speaking of neutral topics, but he couldn't let go of the fact that my eyes were something that "very few" had. It was strange spending my birthday with these complete strangers. Nonetheless, there was cheesecake, with a candle that I blew out...and everyone in the restaurant sang "Happy Birthday"!

We had a stupid bet with them and to find out the conclusion to that we decided to Google the answer. We sat in my room, listening to sappy Italian music. Then the concerned guy kept inching closer and closer to me and saying cornier and cornier things. Mr. Persistent then commented on the soft bed and excellent heating in my room, all the while reiterating that he wasnt dangerous. I politely asked him to leave, as it was 2am by this time....but of course he insisted on staying the night. "No" is apparently not a word that exists in the Italian vocabulary! After an hour of coaxing, cheap tricks, begging and a little bitchiness (okay, lots of it), this partially good-looking, part-gigolo, hottie wannabe, was forced out of my room by his friend and mine.

There were strange knocks on my door every half an hour while I lay on my bed speaking to Sarvesh. I was afraid to even go out and pee for fear of running into him! I didnt know whether to be flattered or call the police! So much for turning 24; the naivete has to go....assertiveness has to take its place. One thing though, I now have accomodation in Rome, for when I visit in March..and Naples too;)

turning 24

2009-01-02T09:25:00.000-08:00

as much as i pretend to be a stony-hearted, aloof bitch with the capacity to bear anything, i am not. in reality, i am horribly desperate for people, company and familiar faces. today has been the worst birthday of my life. i haven't seen a soul i know or care about. i have been sitting here feeling extremely sorry for myself. i haven't been able to stop crying for the past one hour. what is strange is almost everyone remembered...i've had calls from dubai, australia, messages from pakistan, and of course india. i also got surprises in the form of phone calls i would have least expected. my facebook wall was completely crammed with messages from everyone. my roommate came back yesterday just for fifteen minutes to give me a gift.

why then do i feel so hopelessly alone?why then can't these tears stop?....i know i need to stop feeling sorry for myself, i know this is extremely pathetic behaviour and way, way below my dignity. i hate putting on this appearance that all is well. i hate the fake cover-up. regent park lifted my spirits for a good one hour but then i was swirled right back into this desperate labyrinth of my dark mind. i keep asking myself to stop...self-pity is detestable and god knows i hate it.all i need is some calm and peace of mind.but i just cannot will away this awfully self-consuming mess of utter despair.there is another pressing reason why i'm devastated, one that i do not choose to admit even to myself.

i know i need to feel alive, vibrant, 24 and free...but there is a mass inside of me that makes it tough to even swallow. i have to move past this. the darkest hour is past. six hours to go and it'll again be a normal, inconsequential day. what does it matter?let it to its best to overpower me, but when i wake up tomorrow, it'll be all gone. it will have lost its power over me.even while i try desperately to control my feelings, i know that expectations are what lay at the source. i know i needed to battle them, but i didnt. now here i am in their vice-like grip, crying hot tears in a dark, dingy room.

Happy New Year!

2009-01-01T04:39:00.000-08:00

Once again another new year...another day of reflecting about my lack of purpose, thoroughly disenchanting existence and of bleaker days to come. (Okay, Maya would kill me!)...So to revert to 'positive thinking', let's see. I am studying at one of the top institutions in the world, will surely get a job somewhere, despite the sorry state of the economy, most (i repeat, most) people don't find me half-bad (okay, they like me!) and I have stricken at least some fun "things to do before i die" off my list. That can't be too terrible. 2008 was in fact a million times better than 2007, by that logic, 2009 has got to have better things in store...I am not sure what there is to look forward to but it will be interesting to find out.

It is also a good idea to reflect on the kind of person I have become. Sometimes my lack of caring shocks me. It is antithetical to my idea of myself as a 'good' human being. But 'good' can have a dozen other connotations, can it not?It doesn't have to take on restrictive, conventional meanings. Are there things I am ashamed of?Not really. I have no regrets, but for November 29th, 2006. That I can live with. I have moved past it in the most beautiful way possible. So resilience is obviously something I have.

This New Year, I have a few resolutions I am hoping to keep. They are simple, yet meaningful to me. They appear easy, but are ironically some of the hardest things for me to do. I also plan to push myself to smile more often, think ahead rather than backward and challenge myself to be 'good' in my own eyes. As long as I don't disappoint myself, it is okay...the world had better deal with who I am.

Payback

2008-12-30T15:32:00.000-08:00

Do I believe in retribution?I never did. But I am starting to convince myself now.There is a person on this earth who would give his life for me, who loves me like no other, maybe even more than himself. It has always frightened me to have this kind of an impact on another human being. I strongly believe in taking responsibility for my own actions. In this case of course, I would somehow end up being accountable, because we were so very intertwined, by the very nature of our relationship.

Last year..2007, was bleak, dull, dreary and miserable for him. He sat home alone on Christmas crying for several hours, hoping against hope, that I would miraculously appear through the door. He wept hot tears, cursed me vehemently, threatened me in the most verbally abusive manner. It was the most extreme emotionality. I did not have the patience or the sensitivity. It was a landmark event for him. I, on the other hand, could not have cared less. I shocked myself with my extreme lack of emotion, more so because it so sharply contradicted with his superfluous ardour. Well, I just didn't understand it or try to fathom it even for more than what it was on the surface.

Today, I am home alone. No, this is not even home. I am in a dingy, dull, almost uninhabited student residence, fending for myself, trying not to feel alone. I have always prided myself on the ability to function independently. Why then this despondency?Why are the sudden tears threatening to fall? I am left amazed at the bleak prospect of a New Year's Eve spent by myself, drowning in unknown miseries. Oh, what I would give to call and curse certain people. But I don't of course, have the liberty to. Besides, whatever happened to my 'no expectations' mantra? And what happened to bravely taking accountability and where is that impassive expression of mine that fools that world.

Nonetheless, I am going to get through this unscathed. 31st December 2008 is just another night..not any different from, well...8th August 1998..or 4th June 1750. Well, the point has been driven home. I hope so, for my sake, at least. I understand how things come full circle. He had warned me they would. Retribution may be too strong a word to use in this context. But as far as I am concerned, this is exactly what it is and it is playing itself out to perfection.

Guilt-free

2008-12-29T06:35:00.000-08:00

It is indeed strange how guilt as an emotion has left me completely. It has detached itself from my very being; consequently I have reached a point where 'right' and 'wrong' merge so completely, that I have redefined the very concepts. I am not sure whether it is okay to be feeling this way. After years of judgement and unecessary censure from those around me, I suppose I do deserve to live through a guiltless existence. It is a world where acceptability to things previously alien to me, have suddenly taken on a novel form. I console myself in fashioning those things to suit my purpose.

I was telling a friend yesterday, how I feel guilty about not feeling guilty. I suppose then, shreds of that unwanted emotion do remain in traces. But the funny thing is, I will very soon overcome that too. What am I left with then?A self-centred, hedonistic pursuit of ephemeral happiness. Moments that will leave a lasting impression. Impactful incidences of loss of reason. But when was it ever a 'bad' thing to lose all rationality? It gives one a sense of boundless freedom and a liberating feeling like no other. So for now, until further notice, guilt is at bay...far, far from my reaches. Safely ensconed in a bubble somewhere...a place that I cannot (or will not) reach for.

Blur

2008-12-28T08:26:00.001-08:00

I am on vacation. A strange, completely bewildering holiday, where I have lost all sense of time and the days pass me by one after another. I feel like it is some sort of a never-ending dream and I am floating about in the atmosphere. Something very Jungian about it. There are realities that merge with illusions. There are clashes and contradictions that I try in vain, to decipher. There are moments that I would love to freeze, but that still pass me by, in harsh, cruel ways. There is also ecstasy, coupled with hopelessness.

I am sorry this sounds like it was written when I was stoned. No, wait, why should I apologize on my own blog entry! But there is a tangled web in my mind that I'm desperately trying to escape. There is a sense of focus and rationality that I am trying to regain. Shreds of dignity that I'm attempting to restore, just for my own peace of mind. Essays that have to be written on topics I couldn't care less about. Maybe it is time to crash back to reality and stop defying gravity. Fantastically enough, I am searching for what I thought was my incredible ability to snap in and snap out. But it seems to be lost somewhere.

If I don't find it soon enough, there could be dire consequences.

2008-12-05T10:56:00.000-08:00

I am in an exceptionally dull mood today. The day has been dark, dreary and terribly monotonous. I have procrastinated all day. It is almost seven o clock and in about five hours I am going to be sleepy again. There is an itchiness in my throat and I can feel the beginning of an annoying cold. God knows I hate this! The only high point was when I spoke to my family today, except that it suddenly made me very homesick. Who knew I had the capacity to miss home?

I am feeling so blah...!The head feels like its stuffed with a ton of bricks and is going to explode. I need to be alone..take a walk by myself, get lost in the world...just detach and alienate! It always works..lifts me out of my gloom...or not. or not. or not.

this piece is so staccato. i have no idea how to overcome this feeling!

Two of A kind

2008-11-29T10:49:00.001-08:00

She and him. Him and her. They have an inexplicable connection. They are different, yet alike. He is smart, funny and likeable..she is a bundle of contradictions. He's as quirky as she is. She gets him on a strange level and he understands her perfectly. He manages to get under her skin. She makes him smile more, and for crazy reasons. Had they met in another time, another place, another dimension, they would have had another story. The attraction was always imminent, for reasons best known to them. Yet, it functions on a level so simple, one might laugh at how basic it is. They watch over each other..complement one another. Guardian angels. Friends. Counterparts. Lovers?...

They both like that life is 'grey.' He gets that she despises compartmentalizing things and people into black and white. They are clueless of what lies ahead. Probably nothing. But each is content in knowing the immediate. Each savours this comfort zone they have developed with one another. Neither would look back wistfully and say 'what if.' Each has the great ability to disconnect. What makes it unique is this common thread that runs through them.They make each other laugh (although each has a very different kind of humour), sit in companionable silence at times, have whacky ideas of fun, appreciate each other insanely but say nothing of it.

They needn't say anything at all. Such words would be reduntant.

He and her. Her and him. Distinctly different, yet two of a kind.

Disenchanted

2008-11-28T03:41:00.000-08:00

I woke up this morning feeling sick to the stomach. My first thought was Bombay. I still cannot digest the fact that this has actually happened. I take for granted, a safe existence. I walk the streets with confidence, knowing intuitively I will be safe (except from vehicles or trains!..but that of course, is just me). Leopold's brings back wonderful memories of Saturday nights of steak, beer and amazing music. Or those afternoon trips with Tracy where we would look at the prices and then share something! Those hundred walks down Colaba Causeway, the earring-walla outside Mondegar's, the stoles, the hot guys. Sometimes taking the detour to my house via the seafront, gazing at the Arabian in all its vastness. My idiotic trip to the Taj with the Mont Blanc coupon, in faded jeans and oshos.

The near escape when the blast at Gateway happened. We were at Spastic's Society and then safely ensconed in Navy Nagar. It was such a tiresome feeling waiting for hours in Esha's Uncle's place, knowing I was near home, yet so far. The July downpour...again, I sat comfortably in my flat watching 'resilient' Bombayites come to grips with the forces of nature. My friends were stuck in college, yet there I sat, helpless as always..not knowing whether to thank god or curse my luck.

I remember the train blasts..by this time I was in Andheri. Watching NDTV, howling..thinking Dad had perished in them. That horrible sense of finality when his colleague knocked on my door...only to tell me Dad was fine! Flinching each time they showed the 'victims' and their relatives crying unabashedly on national television. Once again, here I am...sitting in the comfort of my hall in the heart of vibrant London....watching my city burn. Attending my lectures and seminars, as though nothing matters. Of course, life goes on but I think it affects me more than I let on. There is also a strange inner voice that warns, 'next time it could be you.' How many near escapes will I have? How many next times will there be? Will I ever be one of those '150 dead' or '300 injured.' It is an intensely scary feeling.

I feel like these invisible walls are closing in around me. I try to cry for these people, yet I cannot. Just because it didn't happen to me. I try to imagine Bombay's makeshift war-zone..yet there is this sense of unreality. Those images seem almost surreal. It is like a strange, unsettling dream. Why, then, can I not shake off this creeping sense of disquiet?

Disjointed

2008-11-27T14:51:00.000-08:00

Uncertain times. A world where faceless men with vengeful hearts can tear our lives apart.

A dome of hopelessness and fear.

They hit us where it hurts the most. They mock at us and catch us off guard.

It comes when we least expect it and leaves no stone unturned.

It hits bulls-eye with utmost precision.
We are left helpless and alone.

There are dark shadows still looming. The Taj goes up in smoke.
Gunshots and grenades. Dead cops. Helpless faces.

The image of terror etched forever in our minds.

"The attacks shall be condemned"
"Mumbai under seige"
"Once again human resilience is put to test"

No. Maybe we don't want to be tested anymore. Just maybe we've had enough. With our lives spiralling uncontrollably out of control, is it really that brave to put up that brave face?

Frozen screams. Marked forever as victims. Who is it that is really victimized?

We versus Us versus Them versus peace versus an uncannily recurrent reality.

No excess baggage

2008-11-26T06:20:00.000-08:00

I often commend myself on my great ability to detach. It comes so easily that I wonder if I was born with it. A large part of it has to do with the fact that I make almost no demands on the people around me. Well, at least not intentionally. When there are little or no expectations, the outcomes are more neutral. This helps me stay grounded. If ever there is a hint of an expectation forming, I watch myself before I hit reality. Hence...I detach.

This is not to say I am cold or stony. In fact, contradictorily so, I give off just the opposite impression. Warm and sociable in my interactions with others, one would imagine I invest a great deal in relationships. Strangely, I have learnt not to or maybe its just innate. But this protective mechanism works beautifully, in that there is no element of manipulation. Things just play out as they are destined to and I don't have to pull the strings.

Sometimes I think of attachment as just finite and limited to those rare life-long friendships or family ties, for that matter. Other kinds of attachment are temporarily comforting and the kind one can seek solace in. Or just enjoy for it's own sake I suppose. For me, the key is to keep expectations out of the equation and let things take their course. I'm not saying that it is wise to give up all control of the course of your life and leave it up to fate or the stars. This is merely an observation of my responses within relationships. It works for me and I cannot imagine behaving any differently.

Yes, it is a defense mechanism. I'm not ashamed to admit I use it.

Surviving

2008-11-14T14:48:00.000-08:00

People who wallow in self-pity have always annoyed me to no extent. They whine, complain, crib and curse their unfortunate lives, because they are convinced beyond the shadow of a doubt that nothing can go right in their lives. I am always itching to tell these people to basically get over it and get a life. No cloud has that damn silver lining, but one does not need it really!

I think of how over the last year or so, I have come to the point where I can actually club myself with "those people".The needless panic attacks, the sudden freezes, meaningless tears and blame game have come to characterize a large part of who I am. I am almost ashamed to admit that there are times I wonder whether I can sink any lower. It is okay to ask for help. But not when this surge of sympathy for the self overcomes you. It is not acceptable to me to believe my stars are forever crossed and there is no way out. So what if I am a walking-talking-living, daily calamity?

I am amazed at how friends and family think of me as stable, patient and tolerant. I laugh in my head when they say these things. I am glad they draw comfort from my words, but if only they knew that their source was a crazy person, who tries too hard to come across as sane. Well, I guess when it comes to their troubles, their pains, I am incredibly rational at hearing them out..or offering a reasonable solution even..or simply listening and never judging. A close friend of mine actually said to me once that I happen to be the most non-judgemental person she knows. It is a pity how harshly I judge myself then. Why do I set these exacting standards for myself then..?Is it that hard to accept that there is a reason I'm so messed up right now.

Murphy with his goddam law can screw me over as much as he likes. The trick is to mess with him right back. I fell flat in the middle of the tube station on my way to dinner the other night. Looking at nothing and no one, I picked myself up and calmly boarded the train. There was this horrible deja-vu, but I willed it away. I guess I am on my way. I will annoy myself less and less over the months to come.

Survive. That I will.

Transponding

2008-11-12T15:10:00.000-08:00

In the middle of a rather boring article, I begin doing what I do best..drifting off. Amazingly, I end up doing this so very often that I'm surprised I get any work done at all. I have often heard that the imagination is the most powerful vehicle of thought. It is only after using it with such rapidity and frequency that I realized the kind of Pandora's Box it opens up.

Fortunately, I love the shades of grey in myself...even black sometimes. The most liberating part is that there is no one to judge it, censor it or censure it. I love the idea of being transported into another dimension altogether..sometimes dark and hopelessly pessimistic, sometimes foolishly innocent and at other times boundaryless and exploratory. It takes me exactly where I want to be, in that particular moment. For someone who values 'just being', there can be nothing better than the travails of the mind. It is just so easy to drift away...and in the process discover and re-discover a million different tangents, domains and planes. Whether its being lucy in the sky with diamonds or just freefalling through time and space, the imagination can do wonders. (No, I am not describing the effects of weed!)

I am not talking of the creative imagination here...just imagination or even daydreaming, if you like, at its simplest. Basically it is a slave only for you and you mould it as you go. Not for anyone else, not for the world and cerainly not to give birth to creative output. Well, imagination for its own sake, I suppose. I knowingly fall back on it way too many times; it rescues me instantly. I seek solace in it as it never fails me. As Carl Jung aptly put it, "What right have we then to depreciate imagination?"

Just my luck!

2008-11-10T14:58:00.000-08:00

I had the worst day today. It was one of those days where you think you have it all under control, but discover within one crushing second, that life had other plans!

It was my first essay submission today and I very proudly patted myself on the back for having finished it well within the deadline. Even the cold, dreary, rainy day could not deter my spirited mood. It all began when I dropped a cup of hot chocolate all over my unsuspecting classmate who looked back at me in disbelief as she tried to get it off herself, all the while hushing my continued apologies. She changed her seat eventually, trying to politely disguise a nasty glare.

The usually empty computer room was at its busiest. I desperately rushed to the library to get a printout of the essay, only to realize there wasnt a single computer available in all of LSE's massive, hallowed library!! I was panicking..had a class in twenty minutes that I had to compulsorily attend. Eventually I begged a guy to let me use his machine (ooh, that sounded kind of..well, absurdly vulgar). He willingly complied when I shot him this totally desperate, almost in tears look. Within five minutes, I had the print but could not see a stapler in sight. Nonetheless, I dashed off to submit it in a building that was about a five minute walk from there.

Clutching three flailing sheets of paper in my hand that were soaking in the raindrops with sadistic glee and attempting unsuccessfully to manage my umbrella that kept defying gravity, I finally managed to reach my destination. Then came the terrible, earth-shattering realization, my LSE ID Card was missing! I searched for it, nearly emptying out the contents of my bag on the damp ground, almost losing my umbrella in the process. Minutes after I managed to chase my escaping umbrella and salvage the now-wet unstapled mess that was my essay, I did another desperate begging routine. This time it was the imposing security guard, who I somehow managed to convince. While I kept cursing my luck in the lift, I ended up missing my stop and going right up to the seventh floor. As I came crashing back to reality (read-4th floor), I walked with heavy steps to the department office. A sceptical look greeted me when I handed in my essay.

Needless to say, I forgot my umbrella upstairs and realized this after I had left the building. I had to plead with the guard to let me into the building all over again. By then it was simply pointless going to class, so I retraced my steps back to the library, knowing I would NOT find what I was looking for. And..no surprisese here..I didnt. I managed to get a temporary day pass for the library, inquired how I could get a new ID card and bravely took in the fact that I would have to spend 10 pounds over this self-made mess! I made my way to the quietest corner in Subway, forcing myself to eat. Tears stung my eyes (third time this week). I willed myself not to cry and ate half a sandwich. A surge of useless self-pity and a fun conversation later, I was sane again.

Twenty three years old, yet I could not be more careful and responsible. Dad's famous lecture kept running through my brain..the "How many times do I have to tell you to..." one. The "I have the worst luck theory" kept ringing in my ears on my way back to college. I returned to the scene of my ruin (first the 30 pound fine and humiliation and now this!), to meet with my syndicate group for a presentation that I hadnt bothered to read up on. It was the last thing in the world I wanted to do, but somehow I dreamed my way through it. I walked back to the residence in a daze and a packet of instant noodles later, I am contently snuggled underneath my duvet, not reading, but writing this instead!

Impressions~

2008-11-08T04:47:00.000-08:00

Given the universality of emotions, I would have expected myself to have the ability to recognize them anywhere and almost instantly. At least happiness, grief, anger, envy and disgust..well, those are supposed to be the most basic ones right? Today as I saw a friend of mine collapse before me in a fit of tears, I looked on blankly for a second and a half until I realized she was actually crying. It was almost as though as my instincts had failed me. As I watched foolishly and others around me began to comfort her, I sprung into action and took on the role of an empathic observer. A late recovery; but it served the purpose, nonetheless. I tried with conviction to explain the reasons for her confusing feelings and asserted that she would surely get through it (as would we all).

What was astonishing though, was the fact that the incident prompted a five hour long impromptu male-bashing session with lots of wine and laughter. There we were on the kitchen floor speaking unabashedly about our needs and wants and how men were never able to fulfill them! We did have a few male spectators, who of course, were completely flabbergasted by what they termed as the usual ‘feminist ramblings’. They attempted to defend their species, failing which they ran away, leaving us in our element. It was an insightful discussion on so many levels and one that rung loud and clear, the message that we are all bound by a common thread. It is almost oxymoronic to say that this sense of belonging is ‘uniquely common’.

A few tears helped invoke an amazingly evocative talk. It reiterated the idea that be it Asian or European, sick, poor or hungry, disabled, man or woman, the human species (in fact I would like to argue that animals too!) are connected by this overarching universality of feeling. Emotions bring us together in powerful ways. It is good to know that there are at least some commonalities that transcend all divides. And needless to say, the sense of agreement or understanding that we reach in these moments are impressioned in our memories for life.

2005

2008-11-07T17:14:00.000-08:00

The sentence was dealt
As they watched in silence
plagued with Guilt they felt

Dramatic and Ferocious
He had set himself FrEe
Maybe he was just precocious?

Tears stinging his eyes
This is the last I promise..
Pa BeltS him till he cries

Goddam the stinging whip
Harsh grating scrEEch
BrOken rib and a swollen lip

Trembling in Fear ==
Walking up the plank
He knew the EnD was near

Thick and tight the noose was tied
Pitching tight, till he DieD

Gotcha!

2008-11-06T13:22:00.000-08:00

Human beings by nature tend to neglect objective evidence, facts, prior information and previous experience. All those bits of relevant information that are so very obvious in immediately catching a lie, are ignored by us. I think I epitomize these aspects of human error.

This one is for all those who claim I'm gullible. Not that I disagree with that. But on some level, everyone is gullible. It is ridiculously simple to manipulate others into just about anything you want them to think or believe. Naivete has nothing to do with it, it is simply the ability to sound convincing enough. I tried it with a few friends, primarily to see what it felt like being on the other side. Also because they had me crazy worried with a stupid prank two days back, that me being me fell for!

I realized you can get anyone to believe what you have to say, just by coming across as..well,believable. It's beyond me why I dont try it more often. It has such a fun and silly element..and silliness is good! I think a large part of it has to do with the fact that I appear to be 'nice' and 'genuine', something which for some strange reason, a librarian recently told me! So why would anyone have any cause to disbelieve me?! I did not anticipate the tears though. My apologies for that and thank you for caring.

Well, next time it will be a nasty and elaborate prank and I will go all out to master the art of making you look and feel 'ultra-gullible'.

No, I certainly wouldn't like to live amidst pound-millionaires..not for a second. Besides, I enjoy those midnight walks way too much...

Stuck in reverse

2008-11-03T01:55:00.000-08:00

Do you sometimes get the feeling that you are doing something for all the wrong reasons?I feel like that far too often. I then try to legitimize those reasons till they sound fairly convincing. It is especially difficult when it gets so monotonous and boring that you cannot help but wonder if there was an easy out. It is even worse when the costs involved are spiralling out of control. Most often, there isnt much you can do. I sometimes like to believe that things will change but when I'm up till 3am, trying to reason with myself, I tend to give up.

People tell me to move on. They advice, counsel, compel, persuade and sometimes force. Others silently watch and smile. But I stay on course, take it like bad medication (and anyone who knows me even a little bit will tell you how much I hate medicines). Is it worth the effort?I guess I will find out sooner or later. For the time being, I will allow this impasse to govern my life.

Unwelcome visitor

2008-10-31T08:40:00.000-07:00

Guilt is one of the most powerful feelings in the world. It is self-consuming and leads you to the darkest dungeons of despair within your mind, that you never knew existed. It takes you to levels of hopelessness and sorrow that you never thought would be possible to experience. It robs you of every ounce of peace and freedom. Sometimes it draws you into a web of unreasonable beliefs about yourself that are so self-reinforcing that you start to treat them as reality. It preys on you when you least expect it, brings unseen tears to your eyes and mocks you when you sleep every night. It spies on you when you laugh...you can feel its cruel sneer when you enjoy...it looks through your soul when you feel the slightest hint of peace..you can almost see its ugly grimace when you reassure yourself. The vice-like grip is so overpowering that at times you want to be able to go to any lengths to escape. It is impossible to shield yourself from it as it entwines itself intimately into your conscience till it is an integral part of your being.

Do you come to reconcile yourself with it or fiercely battle it or do you start to believe its insinuations?How do you learn to live with yourself?How do you separate the constant unease from your soul?What do you do with this twisted entity that forces itself into your system and takes you from the mundane rigors of daily life to a convoluted plot against yourself?

What will it take for you to make me stop crying in the shower each day?

Painful persistence

2008-10-30T05:07:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was reading an article on a psychological phenomenon called "Escalated Committment", which is essentially a human being's tendency to continue following up on a failing course of action. This is particularly pronounced when he receives negative feedback on it and when he assumes personal responsibility for it. So basically, the more I tell you the situation sucks and especially if I reiterate that your own actions created this mess, the more you feel fueled somehow to prove me and especially yourself wrong.

It seemed strangely familiar. I mean, how common is it? I can think of examples from so many friends' lives. Why is it that we wish to persist in the face of failure?Could it be termed 'determination' or merely..well, 'digging your own grave'. Why must human beings be driven by this strong need to justify their actions to themselves and others? To think of the thousands of relationships and/or marriages that don't work. We often think we can dedicate our entire lifetimes to 'making things work.' Work in progress, we like to call it. And when reality bites, we continue to believe that there is indeed something we may not have tried. Hence, couples therapy, sessions and sessions of painful exploration. I'm not saying that continued effort in the face of obvious failure is necessarily a bad thing..when it actually works, you may value your accomplishment even more than you ever would have. But lets face it, more often than not, it could just end up socking you in the face.

I asked myself whether I fall into this category of dreadfully persistent "self-justifiers"(if that's even a word!). In some respects...I fit the bill completely. When I tried to explore my personal reasons for it, I drew a blank. The motivations are so complex that sometimes I cannot explain even to myself why I am doing what I am doing. Sometimes the end of the tunnel is nearer than you think but you believe you have 'miles to go' before you take that bend.

Maybe its time we(I!) realized that abandoning something/someone/or a doomed course of action, does not make us cowards or losers. Sometimes...well, at least sometimes, it is for the best. Lets just say its time we 'woke up and smelt the coffee'?

Family Ties

2008-10-29T01:53:00.001-07:00

I have often wondered what it means to me to be away from family. I've realized that I have the most contradictory feelings towards them, as is typical of me towards most things in life. Can I say they have been a pillar of strength and source of constant support..well, certainly not always. Even so, just speaking with them is strangely comforting. Do I miss them here in London? Not particularly. Except when I'm sick and need fussing over. I understand on some level, that they are not to blame (at least not directly), for the things that have gone so irreparably wrong in my life.

I miss my Mum's concern, I like that Dad needs to check on me everyday, I adore playing big sister to Gabs and miss Miyama to death. I cry for my dog, who is in some godforsaken miserable place right now and think of him everyday. I love that I love my family despite the fact that they are the most dysfunctional unit I have ever encountered. It is one of those anchors in life that you will always be bound to. Its the only form of unconditional love I have experienced, which is of some consolation, as I often doubt my capacity to love. They are and always will be my safety net, people I will defend even if they have screwed up in the worst possible ways. It is good to know that there are a set of people in the world who I will always stand by..."just because" I would.

Revitalization

2008-10-27T02:44:00.000-07:00

This is a homecoming of sorts. A stark departure from the dark (yet rhyming) poetry of September 2007, one of the lowest phases of my life. I now return to the basics; this is not to be a display of my once-exemplary, now-average writing skills, but rather an expression of the best and worst of me and those around me. Okay, that was too long, not to mention too loaded a sentence. I wish I could revise, erase and maybe completely vanquish some of the things that made me not so great a human being. But that is not to be. So I will try, in more than one way to recreate the feeling that once made me look forward to each new morning. As Maya so aptly put it, "London is therapeutic". And you were damn right..as it is for me, in ways I could never have imagined.

There is a feeling of despair that I cannot help but carry with me; I don't believe its something that will ever completely remove itself from my being. But the fact that I actually, genuinely feel and believe there is hope (a word that never has been a part of my vocabulary), somehow suggests there is a revitalization in process. And I for one, eagerly look forward to what it might bring.

2007-09-06T04:11:00.000-07:00

No I don’t feel like being optimistic
I’m not Little Miss Sunshine
You can play that nasty trick
So what if you’re out of line?

I’m vocal about being antisocial
I don’t care about philanthropy
Being good isn’t focal
Everything comes with a fee

Don’t ask me to smile
Not going to oblige
It will take a while
That’s the face of this drige

Education taught me values
Life gave me reality
Isn’t that great news?
I blame you for my frailty

I’m not much of a poet
Just venting a bit of angst
Does this sound like a cynic's duet?
By now you’ll have that grasped! ---

Fallen

2007-09-06T03:24:00.000-07:00

She writhes in pain. The familiar gut feeling abandons her. She'd always trusted her instincts. It was almost laughable that they evaded her now with such piercing cruelty. Fallen Angel. Belief was dying. Hopes were crushed with agonizing finality. She cries out loud. Sometimes she listens to the sounds of silence.

Never is a strong word. She wonders foolishly if it is genetic?Loss. Failure. The End.

She drowns in an abyss of pessimism. There are moments of self-blame. There are slivers of self-preservation. She drowns in a whirlpool of contradictions. They tell her to sleep it off. They ask her to have hope. They want her to keep the faith. But they dont know that she is fading fast. She is a coward. She chases phantom dreams. She'll never make it. How could she not have known her own inadequacies?Should have seen this coming. Without a will to survive. Worthless as flotsam. Never did she feel so helpless.

She wishes she could kill the pain. She also knows she cant. She never has and never will. So she watched..as they dealt the final blow.