It was worth it !

She is an Aquarian, a water bearer, a water baby. She loves to be one with water. She could watch a river, or a sea forever. Just notice each crest and trough of the wave and try to be one with them. She would often wonder how no two waves were alike. The force, the jump, and the fall of each one was different from the other. She needed no company as long as she had the sea. Often, would forget the real world around it. Belonging to the north region of the country, she didn't get many chances to witness  her soul bearer, the sea. But, this winter, it happened and  for the second time in one year. She met, gazed at, became one and explored the sea, once again.

This time Goa was altogether a different trip. Amidst all the "It doesn't feel like Goa" moments, she stole one experience worth remembering  forever. One of her friends suggested going to Palolem Beach. So, they did. After a 4 hour long drive, there they were; only to find that Palolem was like any other beach in Goa with clearer water and a different colour of sand. The sun was choleric it seemed. It was 35 degrees on a 25th December afternoon, an extremely cold day in the north. No one wished to admit, but they all felt the same, the 4 hour car ride seemed like a waste. But then it happened.

Palolem beach is famous for dolphin watching. That offer was made with the promise of making sure that dolphins will be seen, and they all agreed to go for it. 7  people in a boat, sailing to visit two islands and spot dolphins at dawn amidst the angry waves seemed too far fetched but even the prospect of adventure after a four hour car ride outdid the dullness of sitting and eating at one of the shacks on the beach. Unison was attained and after much effort they embarked upon this water journey.

The tour guide raised his arm and pointed at what he called dolphins in order to ensure the money settled upon. But, each time he pointed they saw nothing but waves. He continued to create the illusion of dolphins swimming in the sea all around their boat and they continued to look around and buy his illusion. Before they knew they were in the middle of the sea at dawn and we're witnessing the sun drowning in the Arabian Sea. In that very moment their boat, the sea, the sun and the sky it all seemed a part of one landscape. The scenery that they had all drawn and coloured together as toddlers, with the mountains and sea and the sun and the little boat, was right there. This time the people in the boat were not stick humans wearing a hat but they themselves, sitting in the boat and sailing  into the infinite.

Did they even spot a dolphin? Who can tell ?

 

"I Know"

Some things, people and memories in life knock at your door when you are expecting them the least. When you are broken and discarded and living in despair someone just comes along from the most unusual places and changes everything. You don't have to look for that someone anywhere or find them in strangers, when you're destined to meet the right person everything in the world will make sense. Everything will fall in place. You will dress up just right and be at the right place at the right time, and everything shall happen just how it was meant to be and don't overthink, don't spend time thinking what could have happened differently that you thought was terribly wrong, sometimes such wrongs are better than most rights.

She was thinking about all this and making entries in her journal, the brown leather diary with handmade sheets that look ages old and have so much character that every word dropped on the surface of those pages becomes poetry. Every leaf drawn on the sheets becomes art and every moment shared, a memory. This morning she was smiling to herself about every little thing, called everyone she could, of course didn't tell the reason behind that inexplicable happiness and lightness of foot to all but surely talked to everyone who mattered. She wanted to stand on the balcony of her fourth floor apartment and shout it out loud to the world that she was happy. It was that kind of day when she wanted to watch the pigeons on the terrace across hers, wanted to sit by the glass window as it rained and read all the beautiful stories that she could find. She could not contain the abundance of emotions. She wanted to fly high or just touch the sky. It was finally that day.

He was tired from the day's work and exhausted by the travel that he had to make and by the idea that this travel would continue to persist for the next 6 months, to say the least. He was tired but not cranky, like the public transport usually makes him. He was happy in a strange way. He didn't know why is the work, the travel, the weather, not irritating him more. He wondered whether he has grown up or something else. Couldn't really figure out what it was until he reached home and saw the date and time flashing on the TV screen and then he smiled to himself. His body was rejuvenated by a strange sense of happiness. He was surprised that all this while subconsciously he knew . He ate his food and longed to go out to the phone booth to make the desired call. He began to miss her like never before. Began to write a letter but realised he wanted a swifter remedy to aid his urge, a point of contact. He decided to go for the phone call. He waited and waited till it was time. Time to unleash his happy soul and time to hear her voice. He made the call.

She was sitting beside the telephone since an hour waiting to hear him. She had never waited to hear the annoying ring tone of her telephone like she did now. She wanted to forget her self and the world as she waited for it to ring. And it did. She took less than a second to pick it up and said the words he was dying to hear, he reciprocated but that was followed by a satisfying silence. Their voices had reached each other, it had happened. Her voice had touched his soul, had purged the urge to feel her, be near her and this silence was worth everything they owned. She began talking like they would any other day, until suddenly while she was engrossed in narrating the millions of little stories that she had in store to tell him, he stopped and said, "It has been a year". She smiled, and said "I know"

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Life.

Recently I have answered many people regarding the appearance of the next blog post with either, "after exams", "soon", "after dealing with my entrances" or even "I don't know". I have stopped apologizing for my inconstancy. I really have. I have become increasingly shameless, mostly like a wall when it comes to giving answers. I am failing continuously on answering my own question, even at knowing the questions, rather, dreading questioning my own self because I know what might scare me away. My biggest fears are known to me and me alone. I am the one what can make me or break me. It's me who gets to choose. But to choose I need to ask. Like they say, to get an answer one should dare to ask the question. The blog, following all this rant has nothing to do with this. Enjoy.

Those were difficult times for them, even though the question asked to him was not appropriately at the right time but it was asked. Some how being a Hindu and a Muslim in love did come in the picture. They were together the strongest, both knew. But, family ? Who is stronger than them together, pulling you back, giving you the hardest time between what you love the most or what they would serve society on a platter? The one choice children should be granted liberty at making is taken away from them because, of course, a certain Sharma Ji, or Khan Sahab's opinion comes to play. Somehow their opinion becomes all that one has to satisfy. Marriage no longer remains an amorous bond between two people who know they are perfect for each other and will want to spend not this but all lives to follow, together, but it has become a bond carefully measured on the scale of society, caste, religion, complexion, money and every other irrelevant thing that is. Of course the certain "Sharma Ji" and "Khan Sahab" sitting peacefully at home with their own imperfect lives of themselves are better judges.

He is stuck in a labyrinth of responsibilities and why shouldn't he be. He was the eldest son of the family, had finished his education. Now, he must earn and marry and chase around and die doing all this. He ones had dreams of studying more, excelling at what he does, be bigger, marry her, be a great son, a great husband, a father and travel the world with her but now he is given a choice. Options he cannot choose between. One makes him a bad son, the other takes away everything that he has ever wanted in life. One popular but disappointing fact about Indian parents is their continuous emotional blackmailing. I will not apologize for my language because all I am sitting here to do is say the well-known but unsaid. Indian parents do not consider their children as individual people. They consider them their property which of course at the "right" time should be disposed off and paired with a particular property of another exchanger. The possibility of giving the right to choose their own companion is taken away from the children. The same children whom they trust with running the house hold, making and supporting family are somehow considered incapable of making the choice of marrying the right person. This choice is the birth right of their parents. Who were born to take it away from them. Parents without a seconds thought throw, "we have given you this life, an education" etc. in the faces of their children that they have raised them in a certain way and should be reimbursed by claiming ownership on the right of choosing their life partners. The million terms and conditions that are laid down by parents of choosing a partner if considered by the youngsters of India, I bet, no one will ever fall in love. Love will cease to exist.

He was struggling with all this along with some more issues which were further blamed on his blasphemous and socially unacceptable act of loving a girl from a different religion. Love is to be blamed, always. She on the other hand is sitting in her house waiting or hoping that he would come and see her. See her, touch her, and be together. All she wanted was him and peace and her life back and stability reinstated in his life.

Desire

Desire. A sensation locating its place somewhere in the middle of conscience and choice. A desire buds through a temptation and then cements itself in the back, front, middle and at times all over the human mind. I know this seems blasphemous, the use of words like desire and temptation that could be read as eternal sins but do we really submit to the conscience or work towards the fulfilment of our desires ? Desire leads to happiness and everyone around the world is in the pursuit of nothing but happiness. Then why not ? Why not let the desires rule out your conscience and strive towards its consummation. At least, this is what they did. The two of them. Who were religiously pursuing each other in the midst of the hustle and bustle of the eighties while the constantly moving chariot of the sun God declared day and night as days passed.

Once they had made room for a kiss, passion flew like waters from an open dam. There was no stopping them, no looking back. Carnal love is not to be damned. Contrary to the popular belief, what it really does is bring two people more and more close to each other and finally binds them with an eternal lot. They didn't care of what the world would say. By "talking", the world did what they are best capable of. Why should they not love and exercise their own best capabilities of loving and kissing and being one. Marriage, people consider, is the sole, legitimate initiator of the exercise of such a passion. A desire for love making. It provides the license but who knows this passion is obligatory or not. Who knows if people involved in the act are only procreating and not loving. Why are the carnal pleasures assumed only to be a recourse to populate an overtly populated world ? Why is this pleasure not an outcome of unrestrained passion where love leads to procreation as a product of love and not a means to an end ?

She had her hands locked around his neck and was looking eagerly into his eyes once they had opened after the spiritual commingling of their lips in a lip lock. He was burning with desire and read the same fire in her eyes. He tightened his grasp a little more around her waist and drew her closer to himself and soon she loosened her locked hands from around his neck and let them fall through his back up to his chest. The signals had been sent and well received. She knew it was time to be swept off her feet and placed on the spongy bed and turn red the white bed sheet. It was a historical moment in her life because it was her first time. Barely had she known that it was his first too. They both swam deep into each other and were both as happy as one can be. They had never been happier or more passionate.

They were both excited but nervous. Nervous but way more excited. They had barely known where exactly to begin because the unavailability of internet had barred a lot of education that we receive today in the modern tech-savvy world. So they just followed the signals their body gave them naturally. They moved from one part to another, from the head till the toes. They were exploring each other like travellers explore new lands and make geography. They were exploring bodies and making art. Art, the form of which was common to all, yet, was different for every couple. The bodies moving slowly to built positions and shapes, only too conscious to avoid hurting the other.

And then suddenly he screamed once, twice and thrice, signalling the completion. He asked her, "did you like it". She blushed and said "of course", barely knowing whether she was done or not. Although it surely was the best thing she had experienced in all her life and wanted more and more.They decided to meet another day, the next perhaps. He left being the happiest man on earth, while she still felt his presence both around and within her. It was a beautiful feeling. They had both explored something afresh. Something only heard till then but now, experienced !

To much of her surprise there were no reds on the bed sheet to mark her chastity. She was astonished and then remembered it couldn't have been so. Was it the swimming pool that had long ago defiled her ? "Then, what is all the fuss really about ?", she thought for a minute. But she was too happy to care. There was a sudden sense of growing up, of becoming a woman. There was a welcome change in her body, or at least she wanted to feel so. She was happy. Very happy. It was worth a million such penetrations. Was something so beautiful kept away from her just because of a wall she had already broken ? She thought. Then again the face of her charming knight took over her imagination and she felt so much more in love. From then on, they were one. Spiritually, emotionally and physically, one.

Something old...

Possession. Not of people but of inanimate things. We all possess a million things since the time we are born up till the time we die. We use, over use, discard and forget. Sometimes buy, never use and then forget. But we never think about what happened to those things or try to dig into their side of the story. This reminds me of the staple autobiography grammar exercises that introduced us to the autobiography of a rupee or a railway platform. Those were like the Johny-Johny's of autobiographies, every one had read them at a certain point in life. They were among the first's to give us an insight into the perspectives of things.

All of us have felt this strange sort of pleasure in unintentionally finding a note in some old book, or even an old book lost for years, a symbolic currency, an old piece of cloth, or a vehicle that we once rode and all those things that were so dear. It some how stimulates immense joy. It is like meeting an old friend that you have been loyal to for long but had to part ways or like a lover that time and space took away from you. It is never about the object that reminds you of an older time, a simpler time and then leads you into an abyss of thought, more thought, a chain of thoughts that begin with the irrelevant thing but soon jumps to How you were then ? What were you doing in life all those years ago ? but about people. People you love or once loved and looking at it reminds you again of how the memories associated with those people are still fresh in your mind and you have completely washed away all the negativity while not even trying to do it. It all comes down to the fact that the times that people generally remember or ever wish to remember are the happy ones. All sad memories are dependent on both time and space and eventually fade. Like Prophet Mohammad said, "reconciliation is the biggest charity" not only to others but to your own selves.

Coming back to the value-less, memory-rich findings. All things that you use from the laptop, to the mobile phone, even to a diary that once was the only "hidden-treasure" you possessed or a pen given by someone you love/d, share a story. They have a story that we share with them. They are constantly a part of our whole. Each used eraser reminds me of a sketch that I once made and clothes well they just remind me that I once did fit in them.  ;) I love the idea of ruins. No wonder the whole world is after antiques which are both historically and culturally loaded. 

The monuments(can't help it) are also the biggest example of the same fact. They remind us of the stories of the ones who owned it and left them for us to make our own stories in them. Have you ever come across a tree that had a very thick bark, thick enough to bar you from being able to hug it ?
I am sure you have. Have you ever thought about all the history that it must have witnessed. In fact it must have seen an undivided India, a tree that is in Pakistan right now could have been planted in India or summers that weren't so hot and winters that didn't lock you inside. Not yet ? Now do, Think about it's memory bank and all the silences that it has maintained. Such is the beauty of old objects and ruins, they are beautiful with all their faded colors and blunt edges. In all their deformities they are still loved an are always dear.

Breaking through: Living Alone blues

I am Twenty two. I live alone in an apartment in the Capital. As soon as people hear this, they bombard me with questions.Questions concerning my securities, fears of living alone in an apparently carnivorous city like Delhi where men see you as meat, then, they mellow it down to how do I manage my food or 'kill' my time, etc. etc. Thankfully, I face no issues in dealing with any of the above posed problems. In fact, living alone was a very conscious choice. It wasn't the first of course, but, when circumstances lead to it and I moved in an apartment alone, I questioned myself for not having thought about it earlier. Living alone is bliss. More so for people like me who are greedy for their own space and company.

The struggle is not the fear of a paranormal activity, robbery, theft or molestation. The concern arises during times when all I long for is a human company to bring me back into the real world from the parallel world I am then inhabiting or a chain of thoughts that has led me way too astray, into the real. It arises at times when you spend hours sitting in the same position, thinking, and you don't realise the amount of time that passed meanwhile. When a soul shaking idea recurs in your head and all you want is something to protect you from it or at least distract you. And there is no one. It is a fit of loneliness that either brings along restlessness or leaves you dazed. I crave to concentrate all my energies and thoughts in one place but pertaining to my womanly multi tasker mind, I can't. My mind wanders away in thoughts and places that I fear the most. I want to sleep it off but either insomnia hits or my overtly active subconscious keeps a dream picture of the same thought ready to haunt my sleep.

Those moments are horrifying but I HAVE to cope with them on my own. I have to wipe my tears off after an uncontrollable session of crying. When one cries, mostly there is someone to ask them not to but crying alone is a commitment. You know you will cry your heart out and then will have to shut yourself up. But when it's over you know you won't cry again. You learn to wipe your own tears and get back to work. You don't starve yourself too long because there is no one to offer you food or force you to eat. You have to help yourself. You are your own friend, the one who never leaves your side. It's really a fight between the conscious and subconscious. When your fears that reside in your subconscious overrule your stability by entering the conscious mind, you break. If you succeed in holding yourself together and act as a dam against the flowing in depression, you have mastered the art of living alone and if you fail, you will learn soon. Just don't give up.

Living alone makes you strong. It is frightening, challenging, back-breaking and demanding but, it helps you discover yourself. It is an experience, it's like your den, people come and visit but you're the one that lives and rules. If you're a lion/ lioness you will survive and your problems will fear you or become your meal ! And we all know "food" is always welcome, we know we shall finish it !

After all, there is always yellow light(I like yellow more) at the end of the tunnel.

Attaining 'Nirvana'

Aren't there a gazillion times in one's life when each step weighs a dozen more kilos and thoughts in the mind's temple are stuck in a maze of the necessary and the unnecessary,when all one wants is to elope to an unexplored land to attain some stability, a partial "Nirvana" perhaps, times when actions are eclipsed by thinking and your thoughts pace up with the speed of light. If all of the above is true and the path of 'Overthinking' seems like a familiar territory, one should consider a SWOT remedy. (Don't confuse it with the evermore depressing SWOT analysis). SWOT here stands for the need to gaze at the limitlessness of the unpolluted Sky, experience the thrill of Waterfalls and the Winds, breathe in smoke free Oxygen and Travel to realize that there are larger things in life (literally!). In short, mountains are calling you !

I realized all of this when I applied it to myself and did not let the pettiness around take on the better, stronger side of me. I traveled to Mcleod Ganj, a suburb of Dharamsala in Kangra district of Himachal Pradesh, India. Although, the idea of travelling in itself is empowering but, I prefer the mountains because they heal and rejuvenate me like never before. On reaching the foot of a mountain you realize you have signed in for something you will never forget. Mountains liberate you, they make you conceive  how supernatural the sheer idea of nature can be. The indefinable shapes , the unruly growth of untamed plants and trees, the crooked man-made roads that lead to them and the possibility of being the habitat of unpredictable species of dangerous fauna, makes them wild and powerful. But, the dominating feature still remains the soothing effect that it causes to the eyes and the healing effect on the soul.

Mcleod Ganj was like a rain filled cloud over the barren land of my deserted heart and the dying vegetation of my unproductive mind tirelessly indulged in overthinking. The moment we entered the concentric roads of the Kangra region my heart sang with the winds as the droplets of rain kissed my face. I helplessly fall for places which aren't very crowded, where there is more nature and less people to look at and Mcleod Ganj was just that. Think about places where cameras fail and photography enthusiasts begin to feel that capturing images with their eyes and engraving them for a lifetime on the tablets of their hearts is more worth their while ! Standing on a natural rock in-front of the Bhagsu waterfall,I closed my eyes, faced the sky, opened my arms wide to embrace the scenery and wished with all my heart to terminate the flow of the ever-moving time and let eternity pass in that very moment. 

People often associate the idea of attaining 'Nirvana' in the heavenly 'stuff' available at the Shiva Cafe of Mcleod Ganj(very interesting place but for another time ;)) for varied infamous/famous reasons but my experience says otherwise. While in Mountains, the amount of 'grass' is not in question, what matters the most is the 'trip' you take in every moment. That leads to Nirvana. How does one determine whether they have successfully attained it or not ? It's simple, the moment your heart perceives, 'What are 'we' when compared to rocks and mountains?