In Love

I try to feel love in everything I do. When I wake up every morning, I feel love for all the people I know (unless I am in a really crappy mood 'cos of something bad that happened the previous day, and don't know who to blame; rare though). I take every new day as it comes. I believe, loving others has a lot to do with being able to love oneself. Loving oneself doesn't mean being a narcissist (standing in front of the mirror and admiring self). It's being in sync with who I am, being aware of myself, my qualities, talents, my abilities and being perfectly happy with them. Once, I love myself, I can love others. Once I love others, the world is a more beautiful place to live in.

For all those who are wary of love, I might as well say one thing. Giving up on love and giving up on life is not what one should do to live a life free from heartbreaks. Making one's existence vegetable like is not the right thing to do. Life has a lot more to offer than a couple of broken relationships. Wallowing in self-pity is just not done. Introspection is important, but giving up is not. It is one life. Rather than living an eternity being wary of love, one should feel it, experience it and love being in love.

Woman

Have you known her ever?
She, who is of clean mind
And pure heart.
She, who when loved
Loves back in her entirety.
But when challenged
She, personifies the determination
To fight, to exist, to prove herself.
She, whose instinctive nature
Is to nurture
To pass into new hands
The myths, legends, tales, rites
Of aeons ago.
And to show the vision
Of a new and brighter tomorrow.
Of an earth that is free of vices,
Of demons and devils
That strangle freedom
She, who breathes and believes
In the vast treasures of her powers
The power to believe, trust and have faith
In herself and others
In the darkest, lowest hours of life.
The power to face the challenge everyday
To prove herself in a world
Which is lost to her.
A world which breeds and is bred by
Those seeking to rule over the other human.
The power to love, when pained
The power to willingly lose,
Yet not be trapped
By the greed of worthless material gain.
She, is the epitome of patience, passion and persistence.
She, is the one who sees the world
With a new sight everyday.
She spreads lights and colors
As bright as the blossoms in May.
To care, to love, to nurture, to cherish,
She, steps into this world.
Seek and search to find her.
She, is the Woman

I Remember

I walk along the road. I remember a private joke. I smile.

I see them walk hand in hand. I remember walking hand in hand. I see us there.

I sit by the window when it rains. I remember dancing in the rain. I want to dance again but I can't.

I see the skyline of the city from my house. I remember the silent conversations. I smile a sad smile.

I talk to people. I remember our cozy, hushed whispers. I pause to remember more...

I read a book. I remember those excited discussions. I weave a new one behind closed eyes.

I sing a song. I remember the adoring praise. I strain my ears to hear it just once more.

I watch a movie. I remember our awestruck delight. I laugh out loud.

I listen to a song. I remember those poetic sweet nothings. I stop and sigh.

I eat. I remember the eagerness to try a new food. I crave for more.

I wake up. I remember waking up together. I look around to find only a sore emptiness.

I try to sleep. I remember feeling warm and safe in those arms. I shed a lonely tear.

I dream. I remember all the other unfulfilled dreams. I cry.

I hope. I remember hoping for it to come back. I pray.

I breathe. I remember looking into those eyes while we laugh. I wonder when it will happen again.

I love. I remember loving. I still want to love some more.

I feel lost. I remember the time I seemed to have found myself. I search for it.

Just another brick in the wall

The predictability of human interactions has become a bane for all those who seek excitement in meeting new people. I met someone recently for a formal interaction and there was an uncomfortable and overbearing sense of deja vu hanging in the air. The person was new and so was the ambiance, but the conversation was extraordinarily drab. Talk of aspirations and personal or professional five-year goals only worsened my state of restlessness. I desperately needed a witty remark or a clever repartee to bring me back from the dead.

Where is the spontaneity now? Where is the naturalness gone? Why are we afraid to be different? How can we say we are unique when all we are doing is becoming someone who cannot be differentiated from another in a world teeming with a billion other you’s? Even our normal conversations are generously peppered with cliches and the chosen ten-fifteen words that form our vocabulary - “Awesome. Cool. Great. Cute.” We are becoming more unoriginal than ever. That’s all we can choose from to exclaim our excitement.

All of us seem to be rolling off the metaphorical conveyor belt of a mass production unit; we talk alike, dress alike, behave alike and sadly, even have begun to think alike. Our education system, right from the primary level doesn’t allow for exploration of concepts with an open mind. We are more used to the system of learning by rote and agreeing with whatever is told to us. We have grown so conditioned to this type of learning that now we rely on ready sources to tell us also how to act and react to questions, people and situations. We try to elicit responses of a certain kind, and in trying to be manipulative, we end up being predictable fools.

Consider this - you have a job interview to go to. You almost certainly know what kind of questions to expect - “What are your aspirations in life? Where do you see yourself five years from now? What are your strengths and weaknesses? Who is your idol?” and then some more. While these are perfectly valid questions, they also have become so commonplace, that  everyone has a well-rehearsed and well-thought-out answer to these well before the interview is even scheduled.

The mantra now is to create the impression that you are the best among the lot of rats squiggling their way to the “finish” line. Look around and you will see advertisements of courses that will help you crack the ultimate job interview, of counselors who claim to rock your dating life, of personality development courses that help you make friends and enrich your social life, self help books to help you pitch your sales in the perfect manner and workshops to let you negotiate better business deals. We are all unaware, but eager participants in the rat race.

Ironically, having people speak, dress and behave similarly must make the process of evaluating people a more objective and easier task. Or does it?

It is a little alarming to realize how much of our behavior is conditioned by these profit-making ventures. More alarming is the fact that while we are learning social etiquette, public speaking and acquiring charm and confidence, we have nothing left of our own that we can proudly stake a claim on; not even our impulses which are smartly conditioned to do the “right” thing at the “right” time. Political correctness rules. I do not disagree with the need to be smart and well-mannered. I have my problems with the umpteen replicas all around me.

We are all ultimately becoming like a set of actors rehearsing our lines and blurting them out at the opportune moment  What questions should the interviewer ask? How should the job applicant respond to it? What are the keywords, the catch phrases that slot you perfectly in an organization recruitment database?
If you describe yourself as “dynamic young professional seeking to enhance his competencies in a reputed organization of entrepreneurial culture while contributing to its multidimensional growth… (and all that blah!),” save it. All in all you’re just another brick in the wall.

Taking off my mask: Little by little

It has been really long since I posted a blog. And it makes me uncomfortable to note how lackadaisical I have become about the one thing I enjoy a lot... Writing.

It's not that there is a dearth of ideas. They are there. They assume the most tangible forms in my consciousness. I think of putting them into words. The inclination to attempt foiling the vivid imagery with inadequate expression is overcome by my desire to preserve it in its truest, most original and uninvolved form. For I seem to be losing faith in my ability to express myself frankly enough to be understood by those I want to read me.

Honesty is still my number one priority in keeping my relationships with people alive, spirited and to make me feel truly connected. Lately, I seem to be taking the easy way out; escaping answering questions about myself, hoping my friends don't see through my lies, wondering if my animated chatter seems happy enough to all around me, crossing my fingers that the constant nagging voice somewhere inside my head doesn't become loud enough for people around me to hear.

Here I go again. Doing what I didn't want to. Writing betrays my intentions. I am expressing myself, yet again.

Time maybe for me to dig out some of those half-ripe ideas rotting away in that dusty old attic of a mind of mine. Time for me to carefully wipe the patina of self-consciousness off them and revive that feeling that prompted me, even if for a second , to challenge myself to express the abstract, the inanimate and the uncanny feeling of wholesomeness it brought to me for that short while. I am craving for the excitement again.

I am hoping to snuggle back into my comfort zone, and hopefully, without much effort.

Silence

Sitting next to the window I sigh

The evening sun goes past me

Solitude my sole companion

We talk of times gone past

And the Utopian life I see myself walk into

The keeper of my secrets...

Silence! You are my dearest guide

We walked quietly down that shaded lane, He and I

Stopping to look at a pretty bird

Reaching out to touch that velvety blossom

Summer breeze ruffling our hair gently

The silent smiles spoke for both us

The sounds around meant nothing

Silence! You are my favourite messenger

We sit amidst jovial laughter, all of us

Somewhere in the recesses of my mind you keep me company still 

A loud mischievous accusation, a louder denial

Some back-slapping and passing of drinks around

The warm hugs to show solidarity 

That ticklish poke in the rib to tell me the teasing isn't over yet

Silence!  Even in a crowd you are my best friend

I lie on my bed a crumpled sorry mess

Stifling my sobs, sometimes, crying out aloud in my pain

The promise my tomorrow made to me is broken

The heart that believed that devious tomorrow is maimed

You console me, tell me, "Never again let this happen to you!

But even if you do, I'll still be around," and stroke my feverish head

Silence! You are my philosopher 

We meet after a long time, He and I

There is so much to say, so much to share

We recount stories we haven't told, uncomfortable silence intervenes

We know we still understand each other, ambiguous silence mushrooms

We revel in momentary togetherness, intrusive silence makes us edgy

Suddenly, there is nothing to say, nothing to share

Silence! You are my worst enemy

As confounding and pretty as that kaleidoscope

Names of people, places and events evoke emotions in me. All these "nouns" that are sometimes very important, and sometimes seemingly insignificant, have put their stamp on my personality en route the elusive destination of my life.

As much as I wish to be not affected by these elements in my life and keep walking independent of any form of attachment, it is just the disillusionment of detachment that I discover during my bouts of thoughtfulness. Apparently, I am responsible for the way I feel.  I may begin to dissociate myself from people, from places, but in my mind I remain as attached and loyal to good memories as the time they were being created.

I had read somewhere, "People will never remember what you did or what you said. But they will always remember how you made them feel." Certain people have made me feel very strongly, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse. The stronger the emotion aroused then, the stronger the association of the person with a deeper shade of my disillusioned detached feelings.

So, in the end, doesn't it boil down to the same thing? Our interactions always evoke emotions, Out attitudes and general frames of mind help us form our opinions of others, which make us like or dislike them.

Some things that I look back on when I am down and out, and the things that salvage me from deprecatory self-piteous phases; An affectionate nickname that someone calls me by. The urge to make someone laugh. Mock annoyance when the joke is on me. Cacophony in company of friends. Moments spent knowing more about my best friend. Voluble silences that accompanied quiet conversations. And days that were made wonderful only by the mere presence of some favorite people around.

I would rather forget people who brought me pain and hurt me by lying to me and undermining me; saying things that angered me and by betraying my trust. I only remember the lessons learn and choose to scoot from there.

Life is a magnificent gift. Things will sometimes be difficult. They will be confusing. But to look beyond that confounding string that refuses to untie or the psychedelic wrapping paper is what is important. Oftentimes, there are a series of silly boxes to open before you get to the real gift. Don't look for happiness. Create it. Happiness is too fleeting to be found in one place.

Back to my favorite metaphor about life and memories: the kaleidoscope. The  broken pieces of colorful glass are like the many shades of sentiments we experience throughout the span of our lives. Isolated and in their exclusivity, these fragments mean nothing. But when you put them all together and reflect upon them in totality, you see how these useless pieces combine and fuse with each other to form the most beautiful patterns; each extraordinarily beautiful, each unique, each unlike any other.

The magic and the ironic beauty of life...!

A heavy heart
A throbbing head
Some smiles I recollect
Some tears I brush aside
Still looking for an illusion
Living in a happy hallucination
I breathe, laugh, cry
Wrap it all in rosy velvet
Gift it to my days to come

Teardrop

Three hundred and seventy-three days
And mere few hours ago
I had shed that first tear.
I hadn't meant to let her go.
She just chose to leave me alone,
Promising to take away a little of my melancholy with her.
She had lied.
But she did lovingly graze my cheek,
And give me a  fleeting peck on my chin
Before she left me
In the company of my loneliness.
There were many that followed -
Each making the same promise,
And breaking it more mercilessly every time
Duping me, and then mocking at me
While the hurt fails to dissipate in the emptiness
And the madness finds fertile pain to grow on

The promise

In those rare hours of fitful sleep
I turn over to rest my head on that warm shoulder
To match the rhythm of my breathing
With the rise and fall of his
The cold emptiness opens its arms to me instead
The voice that brightens the corners of my heart
The ones I emptied to make space
For memories of you and me
And which still lie half-empty
Waiting for more to make their way in
The voice that makes me smile very so often,
With that gentle teasing, the occasional loving bullying
And words to comfort me when I am oft so low
The voice that brings to me without fail
Pristine sunshine streaming down that bright glowing orb
Even through hail, sleet, mist and snow
That voice I still wait for
The footsteps I still strain to hear
Peeking from right behind the corner
Making me wait, but telling me all the same
"It'll be worth the wait, you see."

Missing You

No words I write can ever say
How much I miss you every day.
As time goes by, the loneliness grows;
How I miss you, nobody knows!
I think of you in silence,
I often speak your name,
But all I have are memories
And photos in a frame.
No one knows my sorrow,
No one sees me weep,
But the love I have for you
Is in my heart to keep.
I've never stopped loving you
I'm sure I never will;
Deep inside my heart,
You are with me still.
Heartaches in this world are many
But mine is worse than any.
My heart still aches as I whisper low,
"I need you and I miss you so."
The things we feel so deeply
Are often the hardest to say,
But I just can't keep quiet any more,
So I'll tell you anyway.
There is a place in my heart
That no one else can fill;
I love you so, Dad,
And I always will.

Days, nights, and the times in between

As the wind hums its free-spirited song

Overcast skies and the moist soil

Freeze the frame in a fragrant picture of bliss

When nature washes its world clean

As the morning spreads it warm colors of life

Or the poignant evening scents cast their shadow

I sit by the window, thinking of you

Wishing you were here, sitting next to me

Bright golden beginnings come day after day

Seasons flutter past in happy and frenzied frolic

Time stretches in a sensuous wait

The sunshine mellows and blossoms spurt their new hues

On branches, resembling light from a prism

When the bees buzz in my garden

I tread barefoot past these tiny rainbows, thinking of you

Wishing you were holding my hand as we walked together

The seductive blackness of the night takes over

Dreams beckon, calling me to a far-off happy land

Glimmering stars spot the skies, glittering fireflies light the porch

The thickness of darkened silence is everywhere

An intoxicating fulfillment trickles down my veins

And I give in and melt into a pleasured heap

I stare into the candlelight, thinking of you

Wishing you were here as we felt the love in each other

Never Ready To Say Goodbye

We're never ready to say goodbye
To someone we hold dear.
If it were up to us, dear Dad,
We'd always keep you here.
But God has reasons of His own
And plans we cannot know,
And these are always for our good,
Though it may seem not so.
Our arms are empty and our hearts
Are filled with tears and grief,
For we who loved each day with you,
Now find those days too brief.
Yet if we could only heaven see,
We'd know you're happy there,
And we would never call you back
When such great joy you share.
And so we'll trust you to God's great care
And know some day, once more,
We'll hold you to our hearts again
When we reach heaven's shore.

I Miss You So!

As I loved you, So I miss you;
In my memory you are near.
Loved, Remembered, Longed for always,
Treasured with a love sincere.
You are where I cannot see you,
...And your voice I cannot hear;
Yet I know you walk beside me,
Never absent, always near.

You Don't Know

You don't know, but I'm the girl who cries every night, and hopes every morning for his safe return.
I'm the girl who drags herself out of bed every morning so that he will be proud of her when he comes home.
I'm the girl who lies in bed longing for him to be lying next to me.
You don't know, but I'm the girl with a million things to say, but not one will come out without the thought of him.

I'm the girl who stops and stares and wishes for him to return soon each and every time another man in uniform walks by.
What you don't know is that I know love on an entirely different level from most.
I know the love that spans time and space; that love that most people are constantly searching for.
I'm one of the girls who waits months for a single kiss; a kiss that will make the months apart worth every second.
A kiss where everything in the world stops and for what seems like eternity, you can see into that person's soul and know that without them, life is not worth living.

You tell me I don't even understand what love is, I tell you, I know more love in one homecoming, than most know in a life time.
You don't know that every time he leaves, part of me goes with him and part of him stays with me.
You tell me that people change and I tell you, true love will always remain constant and steady.
You tell me you know how I feel and that you understand what I'm going through; you have no idea.
What you don't realize is that I understand the true meaning of not only love, but of longing and anticipation.
You don't see, but I'm one of the few who gets goose bumps as my heart fills with pride every time the National Anthem is played.
I'm one of the girls who will stand tall and stay strong on the outside, but be dying on the inside.

I am one of those girls who will make friends with complete strangers for only they can even begin to understand what I am going through.
You don't understand that I picture his face everywhere I go and that he is with me in everything I do.
You think I don't cry anymore, that I have gotten over it, but what you don't know is that I just hide it better.
You don't know the feeling the first time you hear the word deployment or the feeling of his hands as it slides out of yours for what could be the last time.
You don't know what that last hug or kiss means and how important that goodbye truly is.

I'm the girl you see walking by with a disheartened face staring silently at the ground.
What you don't know is, that I know true love and that no matter what obstacles we have to face, our love will live forever, that only we know.
You tell me that you support the troops; I tell you, I'm in love with one.
I'm one of the silent, but outgoing; weak, but strong; scared, but grateful.
What you don't see is that without me, he is nothing and without him, I am nothing.
I'm one of those girls; the girl who stands tall behind her Sailor, stands proud behind her Hero, stands strong behind her man, watching silently as he serves and defends our country.

Hard Deployment Days

She walks a path of emptiness, feeling so much alone
Her love is gone away from her, When he leaves so does home

The days are not so bad, filled with work and other things
The nights are getting harder, With the empty house it brings

Thoughts of him and where he is, an unavoidable truth
That he's not here not by her side, But gone out fighting and he's not bullet proof

On deploy is where he is, and she's here by herself
Trying to deal with living, And God she could use some help

Everything is going wrong, Nothing she does seems right
This is the way it always is, when he;s nowhere in sight

Things are getting harder, There's no end to the pain
Its as deep as any ocean, and it never goes away

But she puts on a smile, when she hears his voice
She doesn't want him to think, she suffers for his choice

Trying to be supportive, And nothing but brave
When all she wants is him home, to know that he's safe

And then she listens closely, to the way his voice sounds
Its not easy to notice, but he is sounding down

So she tried her hardest, to bring his spirits up
Trying not to say her problems, because her job never stops

Not only is SHE suffering, but he is hurting too
Defending the country and sacrificing is what Military do

Suddenly things don't look so bad, when you see it from the other side
She realizes he misses her too, And she is filled with pride

Yes there will be days, Where she will get distraught
But that will be okay, because one phone call taught

No matter how bad it gets, or impossible the way
Their love will get them through these hard deployment days

Loving You

As the the sun rises and sets, as it was meant to day by day.
On a journey, over the seas, you will be so far away.
Millions of people, who feel they deserve to be showered in gold.
Never taking a moment to see, it's because of the strength and courage that you hold.

As time goes on, and the minutes and hours disappear.
You will be in the hearts of many, the ones who will be waiting for you here.
Thoughts of you on and on, from your loved ones you will find.
About a man you don't come across often, one so gentle and so kind.

Faithfully anticipating, your quick and safe return home.
From a voyage that to most of us, will forever remain unknown.
Some days might be a challenge, feeling the need to cry.
Just remember one thing baby, we are all looking up at the same bright sky.

The will and stamina you possess, something that should never be surpassed.
So I will say this once to you baby, go over there and kick some ass!

I never heard him leave.

He kisses me before he goes. While I,
still dozing, half-asleep, laugh and rub my face

against the sueded surface of the sheets,
thinking it’s him I touch, his skin beneath

my hands, my body curving in to meet
his body there. I never heard him leave.

But I believe he shuts the bedroom door,
as though unsure if he should change his mind,

pull off his boots, crawl beneath the blankets
left behind, his hand a heat against my breast,

our heart rates slowing into rest. Perhaps
all good-byes should whisper like a piece of silk—

and then the quick surprise of waking, alone
except for the citrus ghost of his cologne.