Reflex Reaction!

So I ordered a book from Amazon by Oriah, a wonderful poet, writer I've been lucky to find. My friend's husband had passed me 'The Invitation' when I was at a low ebb in my life some years back.

The poem used to adorn my soft board for a while and now I have it with me at home. I read it every so often. I love it.

When I ordered it, my state of mind was, 'I want to feel happy gifting and I want to create some joy at being gifted'. I thought how he'd call or how happy he'd be, etc. Of course these were all my silly little expectations.

When I saw that it would take more than a month to be delivered I messaged asking him if he'd be around or if his mother would collect the gift, etc. I remember being told, 'what's this, this is not good'. That was his reaction. He doesn't like being gifted or getting gifts. To an extent I empathise. But it hurt me to read (on SMS as we hardly talk) his reaction like that. I remember responding saying, 'one doesn't gift to hear, 'that's not good', but for the joy it will bring'. I was angry too.

Anyway, he received his gift today. He sends me an SMS saying thanks a lot, received. Reflexive reaction - hurt and anger. A person can't even call to thank! I guess this is not an occasion to call, and of course I mean he didn't ask for a gift, and then it's from me, and it's not from one of his close friends, etc., etc.
Is this how it's supposed to be? Should I be making excuses here for behaviour like this, or accept it and shrug, because after all, everyone is different and why do I need to have unreal expectations? Maybe I just liked the wrong guy (as usual!). Maybe I need to wake up and smell the roses - he doesn't care! Not one bit! For him, I'm just someone he tolerates. I don't know, am sure there are a lot of explanations and maybe it'd be prudent of me to just let it be.

But I am hurt. And the last time I said I was hurt, I got a response saying, 'maybe it'll hurt less if you thought of how tiring it can get for the other person to constantly assure, reassure, explain,...don't have the energy or inclination to comfort anyone, nor to argue...'.

I don't think I deserve this kind of attitude or behaviour or detachment. Would I be right in feeling a sense of hurt, being let down, or just being taken for granted? Maybe I read too much into everything, and that will forever remain my weakness. But hey, we're supposed to be more than friends. Oh! I forgot...maybe that again is/was my assumption. He probably outgrew it a long time ago and hence for me the sense of hurt and disappointment is very palpable.

I need to have a cold shower, let the tears be washed away along with the rest of the 'reflex reactions'. I know I care for the person I am and I should not give in to anger, but think long, hard and be absolutely certain if a life of pain and hurt and constant compromise is what I want in the long run.

What is clear now - he doesn't care!

H.E.L.P.

Am trying. Don't know how long I will last. Something has got to give. And I don't want to think what or who that may be.

It seems right now as if the whole world is railing against me. No one seems to give a damn or care.

Yes! There are days and times when it does seem that you're being punished and you have no clue why.

And then some say, 'this too shall pass'. It's some 'karmic' cycle, or some Mercury retrogade, or some divine gobbledygook that no one understands.

So while all this tries to unravel itself and I writhe and grimace and wonder, I also scream for some HELP!

There's no one out there who's listening. What on earth was I thinking?

Clarity!

It's amazing what talking and non-judgmental (at least I hope it is) listening can do.

The subtle but surefire shift in perceptions is almost palpable. How the right words, the right frame of mind, and the right time can help you see what you always thought you knew or could see, but nah! you never did.

I was talking about my relationships (in general and not about K at all) and how it seemed that it never ever seemed to come to anything but nought. Of course it was my point of view hence likely to be biased. But I also love to try and play down the 'villain de piece' and say it like it is. If I am the villain then so be it. My sense of justice and fairness is very highly developed. So even at the cost of me looking like a nasty piece of work, I say it like it is. Does that mean I don't want a patient and unbiased hearing? Of course I do. And that's what I got and get.

My God! I must've seemed such a pest to K. Such a goddammed pest and so desperate. Desperate to cling on. Desperate for attention. Desperately desperate. And so afraid. Gosh! And I must've driven him up the wall (which is what I did actually) and without even realising how beautifully I was doing it.

"God K! Am sorry. Truly. I can be terribly demanding and naive and stupid and all that. Am mature too :), but I think my behaviour especially at a time and phase where you're not having it terribly good either must've seemed to you very draining, very pushy, very unnerving, and very distasteful."

So sorry. I know I can make amends. Would he allow me to? Would he want me to? Would he even think this would be worth it? If I was he, I know I'd be too tired and just say 'No' and walk on. But I know we can make it work. That's the crazy thing. It's foolish optimism perhaps, it's a 'blinded in love' perhaps, but sometimes one needs to follow one's instinct and I'm following mine. Many a times, my instinct has led me to unimaginable pain and hurt and all that especially where relationships are concerned, but am not the same person I was then. A lot of the blinkers are off and the shift in perception of my needs, desires and god knows what else is quite enlightening. Oh yes!

But now that I know what I can do and should do and even though I know I will make mistakes trying to make amends, I'm still willing to give it a shot, I don't know if it's too late. And that makes my heart stop and my extremities go cold. I know the feeling of a cold hand clutching my heart. It's not melodrama, but it's true.

K doesn't know how I feel. He has an inkling, but he doesn't know. And if I tell him, he's right in not believing me. So I don't want to tell him either. He'll think am a real desperado. I'm not. Just that I feel he's right for me. He truly makes me want to be a better person. (And how many of us have heard or read this in the past and gone, 'poor thing').

Will he and HE give me a second chance?

Whither clarity!

So where are we?

My relationship with K started some 7 months ago exactly to the day. I first wrote to him then. He visited my other blog and started writing comments. We exchanged mails furiously. We chatted for hours at night. We started SMSing. We called up sometime.

We had exciting times. The flush of getting to know someone who you think could be an important facet and part of one's life is always exciting. It was not exciting, but exhilarating.

Of course we had arguments and he was particular even then about what he liked me asking or not. I was adamant about what I wanted him to say. I knew he would always love someone else - his doomed love. I had a past too. But I was never so affected by any one person from my past relationships as he seemed to be.

That may be my undoing. That and the fact that he's struggling to make it and fulfill his passion and the only thing he knows best - film making. I think he needs to think of treading other professional paths and he'd be alright. It'd take time for anything to kick-in, but I think he needs to. Or he'll always push his chance at happiness and fulfillment away. Like he's pushing me away. Of course he says that 'he's not cut out for all this' and that he has 'way too many problems'. But if his problems weren't there, would he still say, 'I'm not cut out for all this'. I don't know. I know he likes me tremendously. But maybe he's not sure of where this will go, how he'll keep it up, what if I start asking questions to which he has no answer, what about commitment and so on. Yes, maybe I will. But he doesn't know am willing to give him time. But am afraid of broaching this with him, simply because he doesn't want to talk about 'us', about personal stuff, only 'general' stuff.

Of course I'd asked for closure more than a month ago. But then we never got to talk about it. I don't want to 'split' or 'break up' as they call it. I don't. I want him to take his time, I want him to do what he wants, but I also want him to begin focusing on being practical. Of course he has responsibilities and a mother besides his own demons, his aspirations, his own fears and ego. We all have it and I know it's difficult. I do give him space and I do want him to do well. I'm not sure if he feels insecure with me. I'm not some hot shot super rich and successful career woman. Yes, am independent and earn fairly decently. Yes I'm an entrepreneur. I've shared it with him and he's never shown any sign of insecurity.

I know that I'd managed to get under his skin and physically we were on fire so to speak. Come August and it all changed. Maybe August is a cursed month. He talks about August 13 or so as one of the most treasured months and moments of his life in his blog. It was around August 20th that he became distant. Maybe his mind pressed the 'rewind' button and everything changed. Maybe his mind told him, 'how can you take your chance at happiness - you've had 4/5 other relationships after The One, but it's never worked out, because you're not meant for all this. You can't love R, you never will, even if she's got under your skin. This is your life and how can it be good'. Maybe. I don't know. Of course I'm being presumptous. But again in his blog he's written the same thing, that with him, there are always twists.

I like him inspite of his flaws. I see a man in his prime, frustrated, helpless and still managing to keep his dignity intact. A proud man who is also sensitive and responsible and diligent. He keeps at it. He writes well and he's passionate.

He just doesn't care for me. And so I don't know what to do. Is it over? I don't want to give him up. I want him. Is he worth the anguish and pain he's causing me by pushing me away? I don't know. There are times when I want to lash out at him. There are times when I want to be selfish and say, 'think of me'. I have in the past. But here's a man who is firm, stubborn, caught up, troubled, proud and not in love with me.

Where does that leave me? I don't want to answer that.

I care for him. And perhaps I need him more than he'll ever know. But I will never force him or compel him into something he's not keen on. Of course I will move on and all that jazz. But everytime my relationship breaks up, a huge part of me dies and goes away. This time it might be a really HUGE part of me. And God is always a mute spectator.

But I won't give up just yet. Not just yet.

So where are we?

Floating Ideas!

Continuing from where I left off yesterday, the aftermath of turmoil gave way to some of that floating fluff that we all tend to do fill our heads with when we want to escape harsh reality - it's called dreams!

My drive to work and home is a fairly long one - 22 kms one way. It should ideally take 25 - 30 mins to travel. However road reality is vastly different. It can take anywhere from 60 mins to 180 mins. If you're feeling sympathy for me, please do. I feel miserable most times myself.

Now since I have a lot of time to kill (and kill is a four letter word that occurs frequently when I'm driving), I do what I am fairly good at (perhaps like the rest of humanity too). I dream.

Of course these last few evenings have been spent driving around with sobs racking my not so mean and lean frame. It's not too hard to guess why I've been consumed with looking teary eyed et al.

So these floating ideas have been really about him and I.

Floating Idea 1:
Driving in the car with him beside me and I'm the driver - listening to some wonderfully uplifting and sunny songs - Rubaru from RDB, or Yun Hi Chala from Swades or some English numbers - a medley of songs you know

Floating Idea 2:
Having a bottle of wine (he likes wine) and a pitcher of shandy (I like shandy) and settling in front of this huge LCD (ok maybe not so huge) with some great movies and watching it all night long

Floating Idea 3:
Sitting atop those open double-deckered buses and doing a Bangalore darshan at our own pace.

Floating Idea 4:
Playing scrabble and I beating him hollow (and I mean like by a huge margin) after which of course he gets totally irritated and I have to kiss and make up.

Floating Idea 5:
With friends at a dinner. Something someone says causes him/ me some hurt. He clasps my hand and looks at me and queries, 'You ok?' or I look at him and kiss the corner of his mouth impulsively.

Ok ok...I have lots of such floating ideas and 5 is a good number to start with.But am beginning to wonder if there's a point to it. I mean it's nice to dream, to float but when one has to come back to reality with a THUD! it hurts. And how! But then without dreams what is life!

And I like to dream because I think if I dream hard enough I can make it happen. And so one lives on yet another floating idea :).

He's so precious to me...if only he knew. But even if he did, how can he help it if he doesn't care as much or feels the same way? Sigh! I don't want to think about it, because I can feel the sobs coming!

Floating is so much fun!

Turmoil!

I've been having it pretty rough lately, battling the usual battles that we wage in our day-to-day sometimes meaningful and sometimes banal existence.

My home's being renovated -ah! now what that does to a person's equilibrium deserves a long and separate post - my job's uncertain as my company's going through its own churn - and my love life's going through its own turbulent phase. The rest of this post is really about that turbulence. And if it's disjointed or nonsensical, please excuse me. The rush of emotion and words is not something I can control or want to.

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He means much to me. The sad part is that I think I don't and might never mean much to him. Reading all his old posts on his blog is probably the worst thing I could do to myself. I just wanted to be close to him. I just wanted to share his thoughts as he never ever does it with me.

I can't compete with her (his old flame), nor can I compete with his own definitions. We're all prisoners of our own perceptions of what is, what could, what should be. I am. I'm no saint. But I'm no sinner either. I'm flawed, but I'm not bad if you know what I mean.

I've tried being something that I'm not for his sake. I've stopped asking him if he cares, stopped asking him if he misses me, never asked him where our relationship is going, almost stopped asking him when he plans to come visit me. In all fairness he's told me many a times that he will never articulate that he misses me or cares or anything. I couldn't accept it and badgered on. I was dealing with my insecurities and I think that's natural really, coming from where I am or was or whatever. And understandable from where he's coming from or was or whatever.

I am so afraid of losing him that I think my fear makes me say and do all the wrong things. My SMSes are all wrong. But I can't be the full of grace and completely detached kind of person who's not too worried about the person. That's not me, that's in fact anathema to me. I'm full bodied, vibrant and passionate and paranoid. I'm committed and I don't go over the edge however much I may want to live it. I've never given any of my past boy friends a hard time during or post the relationship (or so I think. There's always 2 sides to a coin). Never. I've never said mean or nasty things or pursued them or made their lives miserable (that's 99% true and I'm being candid - does that absolve me of me being a mean nasty person? I hope it does.) Because I've always held myself responsible for the break-ups. I've never been good enough.

Somehow that reasoning doesn't sit well with me now. I'm good enough. Period.We're all good enough. But for God's sakes, if someone won't even send me a message in 7 days asking how are you, or something, and that someone is this person you care about so deeply, and you're told, 'it's not about you silly, but about me', then you really don't know what to think.

Of course I know he's going through a rough patch, work-wise, emotionally, maybe psychologically and have tried putting myself in his shoes before reacting. I've stopped expecting romance, mush, or any form of indulgence. If I get a smile (on SMS) I thank the Lord. I've been told after all very categorically that words and mush and all that, mean absolutely nothing. Sure. Maybe even a gesture would do. But then we're geographically far apart so gestures is out.

I've been patient, I've given him space, I've tried to be funny, conversational, but I guess when someone's tuned off, someone's tuned off. I asked him once, after months believe you me, if he adored me...for me it comes naturally to say I adore you, I love you, I care for you and I know for him it's difficult. But I couldn't help myself and I asked him. I knew he didn't, but we all live on hope...and he didn't answer that...his answer was that he was out or some such. I asked him once if I was a pain in the arse, a tiresome person, and again he didn't answer that, as he was out. I even said I want closure...but I can't bear to be away from him. Not having him to SMS to will not be a loss I could handle.

God knows I've tried to not be me and be me. I've turned it around in my head thinking what does this person make me feel - I like him, I care for him, I get angry with him, I get concerned about him, I feel impatient with him - all those emotions that one would normally associate with someone you cared very very deeply about. And did he make me happy? Initially he did. All the SMSes we sent each other, the adrenaline rush, the chats, the emails, everything. And then he changed.

I don't know if I can actually bear another of my relationships breaking apart. I swear to God, I've tried cross my broken heart to make this work. But I can't do it on my own. Of course it's bloody difficult to try something when you're not comfortable. Like when you want to scream, you take a deep breath and don't...basically not giving in to basic emotions or being impulsive. He's taught me patience and I've said this to him, I think he makes me want to be a better person. I only wish he could say this of me.

I'm treading on egg shells most times not knowing when something I say will be misconstrued or cause me pain as I have an immense propensity for putting my foot in my very wide mouth. He's been patient, he's been courteous, he's been nice.
Has he been like a lover? No.

Look it's very difficult to not be biased because I'm in the relationship. I'm trying to be fair to him. So he has his quirks and his ideas and his opinions and I've got to respect that. We're adults after all and he's gone and going through a lot in life. But does that mean one has to be blinded completely by being thoroughly insensitive to someone you share a relationship with? I have my needs let's face it. We all have our needs. Relationships are also about having those needs fulfilled, be it the need to hear a kind word, sex, affirmation what have you. Above all, the need to be loved.

But I don't feel loved. I feel that I'm being tolerated.I feel that I'm a pain in the arse really. I try not to think about it and in my own stubborn way carry on, messaging him. I've not spoken to him in 2 months. Nor has he bothered talking with me. I don't know what to say if I do talk with him. Am so afraid I'll cry and he hates it when I do. He hates it if I ask him if he's feeling ok in case he's been unwell because he doesn't want to be reminded of it. But all I'm doing is showing concern. But maybe I'm over doing it. Or am I? I don't think so...but then let's give the man the benefit of doubt.

So what am I saying? That he cares for me or not? I don't know. He told me once, and I've saved the message for posterity, 'You have the power and you're a crook!'. The context of it was did I have the power to make him think or affect him...this was in July. We've had some wonderful email exchanges. Some wonderful web chats. Some wonderful SMSes. But they've become memories already. They seem to belong to someone else at another time.

It hurts so much. I don't know who to confide in. I don't know if I can talk with him. I don't know how he'd react. I'm afraid to lose him. And that my friends is my Achilles' heel. The fear and dread of not having him in my life inspite of all the hurt and pain is like a vice around my chest. The pleasure when I hear the beep of my cell phone to a SMS I've sent him, he'll never know. Because I won't tell. Because he won't ask. Because he doesn't want to or will never think of asking.

At the same time he's told me, I can speak to him and be open and frank about anything. But if I bring this up, he'll probably hang up on me.

What will I tell him? That Kookie tell me do you ever dream of waking up with me every morning? Do you ever dream of ruffling my hair in bed before waking up? Do you ever dream of having an animated conversation after seeing a film that's moved us? Have you ever dreamed of having corn on the cob and getting wet in the rain and singing some silly song? Have you ever thought of sitting in a coffee shop idling away and sharing dreams and ideas and laughter and cold/ hot coffee with ice cream? Have you dreamt of feeling like silly college kids in the first flush of love? Have you ever thought how you would nurse and care if something serious happened to either of us? Have you thought of how we'd cope if monetarily we're not ok?

I don't know what I'd say to him. Because all of the above may sound corny and filmy and found between the covers of some silly romantic novel and not part of hard real life, but for me this is what I'd like to do. Just make breakfast you know... and know exactly how he likes his eggs. Or know all his quirks and eccentricities and find that spending time with him is the biggest gift I give myself everyday.

I feel so much. I wrote on livin that I want this so much. But reading his posts today and yesterday brought home the fact that it may never happen. That this is another relationship that I want to happen, but like he's said in one of his posts, we somehow choose paths that are doomed from the start.

I love the way he writes. I love his sensibilities. I love and cherish the fact that he's given me space to be me. But he's never once asked me about me... about my family, about my dreams, about my aspirations...Of course you can say that being my usual eloquent, loquacious self, I've told it to him anyway...but he's never been curious. Of course you may say that he's let you feel secure enough before you shared info,or he's just interested in you the person. I guess we're all different and I sometimes do understand from where he's coming from.

But please God, why don't you make him see where I'm coming from. I can not be his first flame. I can't even be his 2nd or 3rd or 5th flame. I'm me. And inspite of my baggage, if I can NOT compare him to my other relationships, if I can try and accept him and his idiosyncrasies and try and understand him, can't he?

He once told me he's open to the idea of trying a relationship. Guess he's tired. I guess I'll never fulfill his dreams and his aspirations of the perfect partner. After all I'm not she. I never will be she. I'll always come up short.

I don't know what to do. I want to ask him not to be angry. I want to kiss him and hug him and love him. I can't make intellectual conversation with him. For that he has his friends. But I can make conversation, and I can make food, and I can try and make him happy. But does he want me to?

The turmoil rages on...

I'm in deep trouble!

Period.

Exposed!

Not sure why I expose myself to hurt all the time. If it happens regularly, and forms a recognizable pattern, in every relationship, every time, all the time, then it must be me. It has to be me.

Am I really such a monster? So difficult to understand, or please or love or just befriend?

I'm so afraid to say anything to anyone anymore. You never know in this world of fragile and fractured egos (including mine) who will take umbrage to what, when, where, so it's best to zip up.

But how do you build a relationship without asking, telling, sharing, saying, discussing, arguing? I guess then you don't build a relationship at all. You just get what gives you a high for as long as it does and then opt out. Simple.

Who wants to invest in a relationship nowadays anyways? Maybe all one wants is those mannequin inflatables customized to your taste. They don't respond, they're beautiful to look at, they form a sexy inanimate companion, and you can f#@& them. As many times as you want, whenever you want, however you want.

What can be better than having an orgasm?

That Insane Urge

Am sorry. Really really sorry.

I'd promised myself sometime ago that I wouldn't wear my heart on my sleeve and thus expose my ordinariness when I wrote about how I screamed or cried or felt hurt and disappointed or how the demons inside my head were too stubborn and comfortable to leave and just let me be. Maybe I was used to their company and I let them be.

I wanted this blog of mine to be free of hurt. But I'm afraid now of writing at idiosyncrazies, because there are people who seem to be coming to that blog and reading. That worries me sometimes. Actually all the time. Inspite of all the anonyomity that I so crave for, the Internet never leaves you alone. Someone somewhere is watching isn't it? Making note, quietly storing all the data, bit by bit by bit, and then someone will piece it together like a beautiful tapestry to form a picture. Of me. I don't think I could stand that. Let me alone bear the burden of how ugly I really am. I'd hate to be unmasked. That too to the whole world. Crikey no!

Guess there are some days when you get up in the morning, and there's a sense of expectation - like a pregnant woman swelled with baby - of something that would be delivered. A good day. And then there are some days when you just roll over, groan and go, 'why'. I didn't get up with that feeling today. The feeling just grew as the day wore on.

I know there's someone out there in the blogworld who has written a post about how every blog he read seemed to be reeking of the hurt, the pain and the sighs! It's quite hilarious and I find his posts quite funny, whenever I do bother reading them. But I do wish he could be more sensitive. Does one have to make fun of everything in the world? One can let some things just be right? Anyway, that is a subjective matter and am sure this particular blogger will continue to write in his peculiarly engaging way and take everyone for a ride and cock a snook at everyone and everything.

But why give someone so much importance? I visit his blog very infrequently because he and his blog are linked to someone I knew in the not too distant past. A past whose sections I'd just like to erase, actually a clean swipe would be good. It's far too painful and ever so often it rears its ugly pianful head and makes me wish that I was just not me. It brings back moments of such intensity, hurt and disappointment that my head starts aching and I have to clench my jaws and dig my nails into my palm to stop myself from just plain good ole bawling. Yes, I have that insane urge and my only solace is to write. So now you know.

Anyway, it's a merry go round. One ache leads to another and another and soon I'm swathed in the warp and weft of the past. Failed relationships everywhere. And a life that is going nowhere. There's no one to look to for comfort save oneself. No one to give me a hug except me. No one to just say those magic words, 'It's going to be ok'. Even family is actually so blithely unaware of the whirlpool of emotions. They're probably the last ones to know about anything really. It's amazing isn't it, when the peope who supposedly love you unconditionally and can supposedly sense the emotional undercurrent are actually the last ones to even ask, let alone know. Sometimes, just sometimes I wish intution, telepathy and the bonds of frendship would ring true and friends would call and say, 'Hey, just wanted to find out how you were doing'. Uh huh! No surprises in my life. Only dull certainties.

I'm sorry banalinanities. For breaking a rule that I swore I'd never. I was just so intent on putting one foot in front of the other that I didn't see any of this coming from the cross roads. I'm sorry.

I'll promise I'll try harder.

But then, rules are meant for breaking aren't they? Oh well, had to ask...:)

How's Life?

Why oh why do all of us ask, 'hey dude, how's life?' Or 'Hiiiii, long time no see. How's life?' Or 'Hello. Surprise surprise...you're looking different',usually taken to mean, you're looking like Dracula's side kick, but you're of course supposed to smile through the implied meaning and pretend to be equally pleasantly surprised at bumping into this acquaintance and come up with a smart and quick witted repartee to the comment, but before you can deliver a crushing blow with, 'you've put on weight', comes the clincher, 'so how's life treating you?'. Guaranteed to elicit a standard and safe response.

But serioulsy, what is one expected to answer to this question when asked? Should one just say, 'Yeah, life sucks' and leave it at that? What of the curious enquirer, waiting to be fed morsels of the non-standard and hopefully exciting reply? You are supposed to substantiate that response with how, why, where, when and other evidences that it does mother fu^&*ing suck! And feel like the Liberator when the beatific smile tugs at the corners of the mouth that dared ask the question in the first place. Bless you for making him/ her feel 'hey, my life's not so bad after all. Cool, thank God I asked him, my day's made'.

Or is one supposed to look down, scuff one's shoes, mull over the question and then answer, 'Yeah, Life is good. It's cool man?' So 'what is cool' or 'good'? Is the fact that your EMI is shooting up like mercury in a thermometer encountering a warm body, or your boss at work is really proving to be anal, or well your girl just upped and left because you didn't tell her she'd lost weight, or if your friend just upped and left with her all supposed to add up to the loaded question?

I mean what is it that one is expected to answer when one is asked, 'how's life'? And how do we sum up such a deep but succinct question into a 2 second response which is supposed to be equally deep and succinct and of course socially acceptable? Oh! I have a doubt. When I'm asked, 'how's life?' am I being asked about life in general or is it my life that they're asking about? This important point of differentiation would colour my responses and they will be customized to deliver the right impact and thus up the acceptability quotient and my standing in the social matrix. Hmm....!

Aww well...life is cool, so chillax. Why worry so much about such a simple question. And questions needn't be answered.

Here's another classic that you needn't answer. So wassup dude?

What are we writing about?

Or more precisely what am I writing about? Am in one of those introspective moods and I know this blog here is meant for banal inanities and this post here may not fit in with the 'positioning' of this blog. But do I care? I might get up at the first blush of dawn and realize my blunder and just go 'Delete'. But I'm in a foul mood.

And this blog affords me a lot of anonyomity more than my alter ego.

So what's bugging me? Tons of inanities and trivia and existential questions which have no answers. Am also left wondering what the hell are we all blogging about? A trillion blogs or more and we're all talking about something. More often than not, it's about 'my life' or 'me and my online diaries'. Or writing about something cheesy or dissing about people or dissing about the people who're dissing (what's this word dissing anyway...sic!). So what is bugging me? What's the harm? It's a free world. Everybody is allowed to express in any language, tone, style, on any topic that pleases him/her. Am I not a party to it? Look at me trying to be some Orwellian pig unleashing tyranny and being corrupted by my own importance (or lack of it). I just want to know if we're all making enough noise about the right things. Things that obviously have a deep impact and can change the course of humanity. Matters of concern at all levels about the world at large. Maybe we are. I guess there are enough groups, tags or 'folksonomy' (wow, the terms that we come up with is ingenious)and enough lists, organizations, and what have you, who're probably seriously doing something to better our world by engaging in dialogues through the blogosphere.

The blogosphere is a very serious platform that has the strength and wherewithal to influence and therefore bring about great change in society. Or so the Internet studies and gurus will have us believe. It's akin to a movement. Only difference is, it seems to be proliferating like water hyacinths, but not going anywhere particularly or doing anything significant. Amid the million voices, the voices that need to be heard get drowned I guess. Or maybe not. Maybe it's just that I am misinformed. Maybe I'm not looking, participating or doing enough. Yes, it's just me.

Now I know why I'm bugged. It's just me. As always.

So the next time someone asks me, 'how are you?', I know what my response will be.

Or will it?

What's with the i?

For those of us who have studied in English medium schools or are just very comfortable with the language, I is always written as I. Just like proper nouns always begin with an upper case. I'm not sure why it is so, but it's like a rule and you normally don't mess around with something that is taken for granted. Pretty much like breathing through your nose. I mean why the hell can't we breathe through our mouths, which technically we can, but we keep out mouths closed and let the air into our lungs and out through our nasal orifice don't we?

Much along the same lines is the fact that I is written as I and not i. But hell, didn't I say, it's a rule that no one questioned? So you know what they say about rules - break them or bend them. That's what's happening here I presume. Perhaps it's to do with irreverence, perhaps it's just someone who's questioning and saying, 'let's see who can question us or what can happen'. Don't know if anything can happen or if people will stop communicating or writing or any such dramatic after-effect as a form of protest.

But Jug Suraiya's comment in the STOI (Sunday Times of India) in the editorial pages is something to do with this new age phenomenon.

If you can make sense of what he's written today, do enlighten me. But ooops...no one reads this blog or any blog of mine. Which is well.

So anyway, I'd still like to question - what's with the i?

Dreams!

"What would you do if you found that all your dreams had come true?"
"Pay off my debts!"

What would you do if your dreams were all realized?

Naah! Dreams are for dreamers and dreams are meant to be in 'dreamland'. If one comes true, it's time to dream up another one don't you think?

But if one kept dreaming without even one of them ever coming true, then would we dream at all?

Well, someone's got to ask, so I do. So what do you think? Should we dream on or...?

P.S. - Dialogue credit to Jersey and her boyfriend in 'Coyote Ugly', a movie about songs, bars, fame and love.

Why kaahn th English spe..English?

I huurd an intuhvue oh the radio oh the baan Blue. Dey whirr aksed abou sum stuff on fashio en wha aah huurd din make no sense, u kno? Aah mean, it went lyke this:
"Aah grew up vid an incredible family en aah kinda lyke sum of da an I thot tha it vos grea (all the syllables are eaten up, as the poor tyke has not eaten as he was coming from a recording and another press interview and he really had no choice but to eat up his syllables and words and whatever he could lay his tongue on) an I luv maah torn jeans an I think tis a grea fashio and yeah, I think tis a grea way to bee and my family was kinda koool an I owe it to dem reeeally for not being able tuh afford propah jeans and this torn jeans kinda umm..yeah..see now, tis so fashio'ble."

And to think people don't understand us when we speak, the proper Queen's English mind you.

But this is what is called evolution isn't it? Start simply, and then make it so complicated in the attempt at retaining the simplicity that eventually only the propagators who fall into the trap of the evolution paradigm really truly probably truly understand it.

Er...what was that again mite? You say somethi abou th languag?

The Sameness of being Unique!

Hey hey hey! Conundrum. So... you've heard people say to you, or perhaps to other people, 'You are unique my friend', 'Or there's no one quite like you', 'You are special because you are so different'.

Differet, yeah right! If that is so, then why do we all have 'similar' characteristics and behave in the same fashion on different occasions?

I mean, I'm confused. So we're all baked in the same oven, with the same bread, but different moulds, but taste similar or...? And are all crisp and have the same breaking point or some are kind of stronger, more hard, flakier, and so on? So we're same, yet unique. Or unique yet same.

Whatever. It's the same thing ain't it?

Ok, ok,...at least I asked.

The Importance of adrenaline

Take a look around. Something drives everything. Be it physical, emotional or spiritual. Lust, greed, oxygen, love, fear, desire, petrol, diesel, bulls, bears, ink, keyboards, servers, motors, oh and on and on and on.

We're a very 'driven' planet. Pause! ....................

Ummm....so where are we going?

So round and round and round we go. No wonder the planet's in a spin.

Look, it so happens, that we're all chasing each other in a giant car rally. Ahhh! Now it's clear. It's a race by the race. And if you have a race, you got to have mobility of some sort. For which you require some fuel. Voila adrenaline!

So, what drives you?

What's the hardest thing to govern?

Aah! Of course you have the answers.

It could be any of the following:
a) People
b) Fetishes
c) Allergies
d) Number of greys one keeps sprouting everyday
e) Your enemies
f) Your friends
g) Your parents
h) Money of course
i) Assets (movable and immovable)
j) Pets
k) Wrinkles
l) The weather

But no...the hardest thing to govern is of course as the great Queen Elisabeth I would have us believe is, 'the heart'.

Aww well...

Twists in the tale!

Strangers among friends or friends among strangers. Which would you prefer?

Mirror image!

Why are some people called 'photogenic?' Why do they picture so well?
I don't picture well at all, but then I don't look nice at all, so I guess pictures tell the truth don't they? So if you're pretty or handsome or arresting, it'll show and if you're not...well, like me, you can decide to avoid being in the photographs.

Oh well, why do some mirrors show you as fat, and some tall, or thin or whatever? Yeah, why?

Why can't serendipity happen to me?

So you see this dashing man. He's tall, got salt-and-pepper hair. He's standing 2 people away from you in a queue. He's reading. He wears glasses. He's not terribly good-looking, but yet he's very attractive. He carries himself well.

Then he opens his mouth and speaks too (not to me) and you hear the voice, the accent. It's fine. Very fine. You check out the luggage and make an assessment.

You go to google the next day and you actually manage to find out. He's some hot-shot at some media channel.

You wonder, you shake your head and you say, naah! Serendipity is meant for others, and in story books and films.

Sigh! But it can't be that difficult for it to happen right? I've been praying hard. I've been visualizing. But what does my heart and mind say? It asks, how can it happen to you?

What if you could be a new you?

Great question. I've been thinking ever since that question hit me in the solar plexus.

Yeah, what if I could be a new me? What would I change? Am awaiting answers.

And you?

Babel it is!

So a friend and I decide to go to a movie. Planned 3 days in advance. The day arrives. Friend and I figure out the movie theatre, time, plan for dinner and 10.00 pm movie. Babel it is.

I reach the said place at 7.30 pm, approach the movie tickets booking counter. It's one of those fancy, plush, hip new multiplexes. You can pay by credit card. There are 10 screens. The price of the tickets could easily be a meal for two at a fast food joint. Anyway, thankfully the ticket counter is not milling about with movie goers desperately hoping for the gateway to lose themselves in reeldom for 2 hrs. I ask for Babel for 10.00 and also ask about other English movies. Stormbreaker and Dead or Alive are the 2 other movies that are running. One is at 7.55 pm. I shake my head and ask for Babel. 'Not in the front please' I make special mention. Back row.

Tickets slide out of machines nowadays at these fancy places. Not the serrated edges' coupon kinds with date, show timing and seat no. and row clearly written besides the amount. I sign for my credit card, look at the ticket, check for the day, the screen and am ok with it. Fatal mistake one!

Go traipsing down 2 floors to a store, picke up a tee, then to another, browse, wait for friend. It's one of those malls where everything is glitzy and beckoning you to spend, spend, spend. I do. Friend comes, then we head to the restaurant above which also has a separate bar. No tables at the restaurant, but the cover for the bar is not too bad, we head in after paying and being stamped on the writsts like we were convicts. The place is abuzz, like most watering holes in this city , especially on a Friday night. We find there is no table or seats. We stand. We order our drinks and some fries. Everything else is bloody expensive. Disposable incomes, software and IT sure has become hard for the rest of us mere mortals to be able to afford a middle-class lifestyle. We decide to have our dinner at another place after shouting ourselves hoarse to be heard above the cacophony of people babbling, music, television, etc.

We get up, head for the Food Court and have our dinner. Friends asks once again, movie is at 10.00 right? And I confidently say, yes, we have enough time. The theater's just another flight of stairs above.

9.55 pm. We head upstairs. We're let into the theater lobby, we're 'security checked' and then head for the dark confines of the theater. We're directed to our seats. We're settling in. 2 other movie goers then approach us for our seats. We get up and enquire about our seats with the usher. Confusion or fatal mistake 2!

Piece de resistance - the tickets are for a show at 19.55 hrs. I'm agape. I rush to the counter outside and confront the ticket dispenser. He shrugs. My voice rises in anger and frustration and I say I want to speak with the manager. He directs me to him.

I rush across to the young, pleasant looking, calm 'manager' who listens to me. From the way he's listening to me, I know I've lost the case. I feel anger at myself for not having checked the bloody timing. The 'manager' called Jai (I read his name on the lapel badge) takes our tickets, goes across to the ticket counter and is on his cell phone all at the same time. He gets back to us as we follow him with a 'I'm so sorry' demeanour.

"What would you do if you were in my place? Can't you understand that this is a genuine mistake? I couldn't be more clear about wanting to see Babel. This is a mistake, mine and your staff's. I'm not conning you or trying to create a scene. I feel angry at myself for not checking. But we're not all perfect. Can't you do something? Let me sit on the aisles and see the movie? Or issue a new set of tickets for another show the next day?"

I rant. Jai asks me for my number and says he'll try to do something. "I know you're saying that only to make me feel better, because I know you won't do anything. I feel like punching you and punching myself because of this slip up. You can take money from me, I don't care, but you're not making an exception to a genuine mistake."

I walk away. I cry. I feel miserable you see. I've let my friend down too. And I lost money. And I came up a cropper, a fool who thought she was smart. I feel so upset.

The babel in my heart and head is going on about the disappointment, the anger, the entire scene's replay.

I feel stupid. Maybe I will laugh tomorrow about it. But right here, right now, I wish for a happy ending. Manager calling out to me, giving me 2 tickets, refunding my money, anything, something. Hard luck!Sorry Brad, I know I'm the Pitts.

Why do such things happen to genuine people? And it's okay to feel really upset right? So what if it's only a movie?

It's January!

Hark ye all, the new year cometh and is here to stay for the remaining 362 days of circa 2007. The first month of the year is here, the month in which I was born.

Wonder what this year bodes for all of us? Me, you, friends, family, work, the world at large.

Will it be one of those crucial, path-breaking, benchmarking kind of years, or will it be yet another year of despair, hopelessness and mental trauma and immeasurable grief?

So Mista God, whadday think? Will you be kind or wreak your wrath at gullible and fallible souls like yours truly? Could I bribe you? Oh well....(shrug)!