Goodbye

It will be over soon, we’ll soon part ways

So to this momentous time, a toast we raise

To all the memories etched on the canvas of our brains

To all the beauty of the moon, the stars and the rains

To the mist that surrounded us, the sun that chased it away

To the people who made this place home, who in our hearts will stay

As friends, guides who made the journey worthwhile,

Who made it possible to bear it all with a smile

To the baring of the soul, to conversations deep,

The last minute effort to cram, but falling asleep

And to walks down the pathways when the stars shone down

To fights with those who mattered most, the trips to town

The discovery of self, the expression of worth

To a thousand photographs, of which we have no dearth

And to the love that holds us in a circle of trust

It’s hard to say goodbye, but say goodbye we must

Another poem I wrote

Staring into the horizon,

The hues in the skies run wild,

The heart won't listen to reason,

Like a petulant,wilful child

The smiles dont come easily now,

and they have no reason to stay,

Thoughts go down dark alleys

But they never go away

Don't really know what i'll find out there

with the roads covered in mist,

Just want to break the ties that bind me

To the world they say exists

The vacant eyes, the needless chatter

None of the things that really matter

The gloomy depths of fruitless desire

Wishing?That's playing with fire

The sun goes down with it's last ray

and that brings us to the end of another day.

Left Brain vs. Right Brain

I have chosen an elective called Management Lessons from the Liberal Arts. Why ? Because it sounded like a good idea. And we studied the creativity of the Right Brain as opposed to the rationality of the left one. So I took a quiz to see which side of my brain is more dominant and here are the results.

Right Brain/ Left Brain Quiz The higher of these two numbers below indicates which side of your brain has dominance in your life. Realising your right brain/left brain tendancy will help you interact with and to understand others. Left Brain Dominance: (16) Right Brain Dominance: (15) Right Brain/ Left Brain Quiz

Anything that made me post a post can't be that bad now, can it ?? :)

Muzings of a lazy afternoon...

The mundane is detestable. Why would one want to subject oneself to the same cyclical way of life every day? Some might say that in this disorderly universe, there is an urgent need for some semblance of order, to discover coherence and that routine fills that very need comfortably. Well, even if many would subscribe to that view, wouldn’t one rather want every day to be like the clichéd gift, the present – full of surprises, good or bad? Everyone wants their stories to be a little more interesting.
But while the above lines may sound exceedingly snooty, I shall present some background as to why I’m saying all this. And the grand reason behind my musing so is that, wait for it, I had an afternoon off
Yes, I didn’t have much to do since 2 pm (except perhaps loads of work related reading which I didn’t want to do) – which got me thinking, I have time on my hands , so what should I do with it ? Should I do what I do every day and let the immortal sands of time give me the slip yet again? Or should I try to spend some time on me and do the things I love to do. Like write.
I spent two months in Mumbai recently and wanted to write about my experiences there. But I didn’t. I also wanted to write regularly once back on campus. But I didn’t. I wanted to make better use of my time, do a bit of reading, try and get fit. But I didn’t. Therefore, this very lack of follow through on my own elaborate plans made me hate myself all that much that I took off on a solitary walk around my beautiful campus 2200 feet above sea level.
As I walked out of my room, the sun was just setting behind the clouds. The rain kissed mountains were fresh and calm and the clouds that were floating by were close enough to touch. I bought myself a hot cup of coffee and sat in one of my favourite spots, overlooking the mountains. As I sat there, I felt an ethereal sense of calm overtaking me. The kind that I haven’t felt in months.
Left alone to my thoughts I realized that we are what we make ourselves. We are what we do with our time. And I don’t understand why is it that we know how we could be better people but do nothing about it. Post coffee I decided to walk a path I hadn’t walked before, quite literally. It wound up a hill and in my one year here I do not know why I hadn’t been up it. Was I waiting for someone? What was it that had prevented me from walking up that unknown path? Even if it didn’t lead to any place important. Is all this a little metaphorical? Maybe more than I intend it to be.
But what I’m getting at is that while I’m not that great at sticking to plans, it is perhaps worse that I have stopped making them. Even if I despise the mundane and want more stories in my life. I don’t want to preach myself. I just want to prod myself. I am looking for some order. But I want it to be disorderly. To be unpredictable. And exciting. Too much to hope for? Maybe it is. But that does not mean I am not going to want it.

Of life and love

I have always wanted to post a post with that title. So, as you might have guessed from the subtle nomenclature, I'm going to talk about life and...more particularly, of love. Not that I want this to turn into a mush-fest, but wherever appropriate I shall be alluding to sugar sweet, corny, cheesy, mushy incidents that have led up to me fighting my inherent laziness and typing this out(Oh, and the fact that i got utterly bored of studying after 1.5 hrs of operations management helped too!).. don't tell me I didn't warn you.

When I was a little girl I once found a scrapbook made by my aunt in which she had pasted newspaper cut outs of "Love is.." by Kim Grove. The small notes left in and around the house by a loving wife for her husband, which had turned into an international comic strip in the 60's. Even at the age of 10, I fell in love with the tattered heart shaped book fashioned out of old cardboard and pages which had turned yellow with age....all because they contained vestiges of everyday declarations of the elusive thing called love.

But now I can't help but wonder...is love a magnificient feeling designed to overwhelm every fibre of your being or is it the small things that make each day just a little more special...?? Is it to be found in the tales of knights and princesses and phenomenal declarations in movie climaxes or is it to be be discovered in our daily lives.. on the way to work...while sitting in the classroom or at the dinner table at night ....??

The world has shifted from the romance of the medieval ages to an age where people measure love with soft toys and diamond jewellery.. but does that stop a hopeless romantic like me from discovering it in the most innoccous places..?? The answer lies in certain observations I made about my friends, family and above all, myself.

So, what according to me, is love ??

Love is....

Waiting breathlessly to see that special someone you haven't seen for days, with a stupid smile on your face that makes you look like an utter imbecile.....

Trying to look good for his sake and making a mess out of your wardrobe because there's nothing good enough to wear...

Walking aimlessly, hand in hand on busy streets on a weekday just to discover a park with a bench under a shady tree made just for the both of you...

Playing rock paper scissors and gloating when you win...

Praying that people hitherto unknown, like you, just because they're part of the "family"...

Being exposed to extreme levels of shoe-shopping and clothes shopping and still tolerating it because of her...

Eating chinese when you really want to have sizzlers because thats her favourite kind of food...

Finishing each other's sentences and smiling smugly at each other- so much so that people around might want to strangle you....

Getting mad over small things and acting up, because the making up is where all the fun is....

Wanting to get the criss-cross book shelf you saw in a movie together....

Making your close friends want to throw up by acting all lovey-dovey....

Pigging out at KFC together & fighting over who gets to eat what...

Laughing out together at the most outrageous of Russell Peter's jokes....

Listening to him go on and on about football and his favourite tennis player even though you'd rather colour your hair blue instead....

Wanting to burn his black t-shirts :P

Sitting in a bookshop side by side..you reading "Life of Audrey Hepburn" and him reading "Soldier", not saying a word to each other but loving the fact that you are there together...

Giving him the last bite of your sandwich/burger/pizza/any other form of food because you are just too full....

Loving the way your hands fit together...

Hating the thought of his going away again....

And my favourite one...from the pages of the original Love is...

"Sunshine after rain..."

Just felt like dropping a line !

Am writing again ! Feels good. Had become kinda rusty. Anyway, as I’m trying to fathom what in Lord’s name is going to be the theme of this post that I’m going to, well, post, I can’t help but think what made me want to write again. I think I’ve always wanted to write. Back when I was all of 10 years old a classmate of mine had told me that she just knew I was going to grow up to be a writer. I believed her. I mean, why wouldn’t I ? She seemed to be very sure about it and I’m sure she had put a lot of thought into it. After all, we shared food every lunch break. That had to stand for something. Anyway, I haven’t been in touch with her for a long time now. And I’m sure she doesn’t even remember about this little incident that has stuck with me over the years. So that brings me back to the original thread of thought, what made put down my thoughts so.
I guess I always wanted to be thought of as a person who manufactures beautiful pieces of prose. But, I’m rambling now. All I want to say is that people ought to keep doing what they love. I'm sure it will give them a safe haven where they can take refuge from life's vagaries. Atleast, that's what it does for me !
Well, enough of thinking of a theme. I'll wait till an epiphany comes. Till then, keep doing what you love to (but, don't wake me up, I'm really sleepy :-) ).And,don't listen to my preaching.

Fare ye well.

Words Of The Bard

Poetry is something inexpicably beautiful. It may be seen in an exchange between two people. In a blossoming flower. In a sunset. Or in some rhyming words written by us human beings. Some might say that poetry is not for everyone. That it is something that one must have prior inclination towards. But, for each one of us, there must be some poem in some language that will touch our hearts and speak to our souls. It is a pity,then, that most of us learn some poetry in school beacuse we have to only to leave those words in some far corner of our memory, remembering them rarely.
Come to think of it, some of the most touching poems are those written by men for the ones they love. I came across such a creation by Robert Burns, named (quite aptly) A Red Rose.

O, my love is like a red, red rose,
That's newly sprung in June.
O, my love is like the melodie,
That's sweetly played in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonny lass,
So deep in love am I,
And I will love thee still, my dear,
Till all the seas gang dry.

Till all the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun:
I will love the still, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run:

And fare thee well, my only love!
And fare thee well, a while!
And I will come again, my love,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile.

A beautiful poem full of passion where the poet speaks of his love for his lady. I'm sure even today women will appreciate poetry such as this :-)
Or maybe not. I always thought our very own Shakespeare was much ahead of his time. In an era where men were busy comparing their ladies' eyes to the sun and her lips to the red of the rose, he broke the monotony with a sonnet that gladdens my heart. In this sonnet he does away with false comparisons and speaks his mind.

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red, than her lips red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
I grant I never saw a goddess go,
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare,
As any she belied with false compare.

Not very flattering, is it ? I'm sure the any girl would be furious before she reached the end. But if she were patient enough to reach the last two lines, my bet is that she'll be floored :-)
There are so many other poems that have stayed with me through the years. One of my favourite of course, is Daffodils by William Wordsworth (http://www.blupete.com/Literature/Poetry/WordsworthDaffodils.htm). A simple poem about nature, it has always acted as a pick-me-up when I was sad. Or the very energetic, The Charge of the Light Brigade by Lord Tennyson (http://poetry.eserver.org/light-brigade.html) . Coming back to romance, we have Lochinvar (http://homepages.wmich.edu/~cooneys/poems/Scott.Lochinvar.html) and The Highwayman (http://www.potw.org/archive/potw85.html) . There are so many more that need honourable mention, like The Solitary Reaper by Wordsworth again or the mysterious The Listeners by Walter de la Mare.The famous Stopping by Woods by Frost and Tiger by Blake. Or even the funny Macavity : The Mystery Cat. :-)

So many beautiful pieces of poetry. And so much more to read. What better way to end this post than with the words of Frost

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

In Office

I started this blog when I was at home waiting for my work-life to begin. Now, nearly 2 years later, I return to add something more to it. As it was then, I have nothing else to do right now but wait till I join the B-school which has agreed to let me in much at their own risk. I sit here, in my cubicle, listening to the busy sounds of people working around me, and it makes me feel better that I have decided to put fingers to keyboard again. I plan not to abandon my blog from now on. I plan to write something every couple of days. But, above all I plan not to flake on my own plans :-)

Anyway, I read something interesting today. It's called "The Law Of Two Feet" . It goes something like this


"If at any time you find yourself in any situation where you are neither learning nor contributing, use your two feet. Go to some other place where you may learn and contribute."

It sounds pretty simple to do but I asked myself, how often do I do it ? It also occurred to me that if I followed this little piece of wisdom I might actually accomplish something. I might go to bed at night feeling good about things I did that day. Its not like i don't know what I would like to do. There are plenty of things that I keep putting off. Like learning to drive (Properly. Without putting the fear of God Almighty in my fellow drivers), or finally reading the books I borrowed from the Library, or contributing my share in the housework which my mum (in dulcet tones, of course) keeps asking me to do.

I know I can't pull off being holier-than-thou. But I can try to be a little more productive. Like posting to this blog more regularly. Like using the time I have to do something I like. So, now that I have broken my cyberspace silence after so long, expect me not to shut up !

I'm keeping my fingers crossed : -)

Is there anybody out there ?

This piece is not related to extra terrestrials. Now that we have that thought out of the way, lets see what this actually is about. Nothing in particular. Actually, it is particularly about that feeling of complete helplessness that engulfs you when nothing goes your way. Whatever you do, wherever you turn - there is always something or someone who is one step ahead of you. And those whom you've always trusted to make you feel good, even at a time like this, have stranded you. You are captured by your own thoughts that bind you stronger than the bars of a cell of any self respecting penitentiary. You want to convince yourself that this is just one of those days (or weeks, or eternities) that nothing is meant to go your way. That times like these are necessary to maintain the normal cosmic balance. Not too much happiness , not too much sorrow.

But who listens to you ? Not you, of course. You are the one that listens to that one droning, tireless voice that keeps on telling you that you are not good enough, that however much you try you can never get to where you want to. You are intrinsically flawed. Why do you listen to that voice ? Why does it have the power to influence you ?

Do you have an answer ? Do you have any clue as to why things are the way they are ? Is there any one who can solve this puzzle ?

I'm lost.

Busy Bee

Was really busy the past two days...movies to see (TaRaRumPum : Okay types, nothing to write home about though it gives an idea of the racing tracks to the common Indian AUDIENCE- replete with a whole lot of masala and the drama Bollywood is great at potraying..really cute kids though).. weddings to attend ..lots of hanging out to be done...will be back with a "real" post soon enough. Want to.

The end of Innocence

“Gather around children …let me tell you a story. A tale of kings and warriors brave. Of beautiful princesses and scheming witches. Of a glorious land …far far away.” When I was a child I loved listening to stories. It was something you could bribe me with. I was told to be a good girl and finish my food quickly- if I did I would be told a story. My favourite ones were those that involved royalty, though I was also partial to the ones in which animals seemed to have long conversations with each other in human languages. I loved listening to them when I was about to go to sleep. They gave me a reason to dream. Whatever the subject might be, I was always an eager listener and badgered my grandfather to tell me more and more. He always obliged and I gleefully immersed myself in a world of imagination. A world where nothing needed to make sense to make you happy. But somehow it always did. It made sense to the little girl who loved to live in this world.

As time went on, I left the tales of childhood behind and started paying more attention to growing up. There were classes to attend, exams to write, courses to complete. No time left for childish yarns. But those tales will always hold a special meaning for me, will always have a special place in my heart.

You know, I noticed something. My cousins and other children some years younger to me didn’t share my love for stories. They just didn’t have the time or the inclination. They had the TV and the computer to amuse them. And video games. Even books took a backseat when compared to New Age entertainment.

I will call these children unlucky. They can never know what it is to sit down and listen to someone introduce you to new people, new villages and cities, new ideas, new worlds and new galaxies- while you haven’t even moved an inch. You’ll say – that’s what the Internet does, or the TV. Yes, that is what they do. But have you thought about it this way? The internet, while it has opened a new vista of information to all of us, has severely undermined the power of imagination. The TV has brought the world inside our homes. That’s why children don’t go out to their backyards. All of this has put an end to childish innocence. That’s what’s wrong with them. A child is supposed to know what curiosity is. What it is to discover new things. Even if that includes how many types of bugs infest their gardens or how many fruits are on the tree across the street. But no. Today’s competitive world expects children to be geniuses. Each and every one of them. The right of enjoying childhood in the true sense of the term is being denied them. They are being forced to grow up before their time. That is what we have become.

Its not for me to decide whether its for the better or not. I’m just someone who doesn’t agree with it. That’s my side of the story and I’m sticking to it.

Adwitee, Blogger !

Hello there.

I don’t quite know how to begin my blog. I haven’t even decided what it’s going to be about. I’m not too bothered about it though. I’m sure the mystery will unravel itself as I go on. For the moment let me just tell you that this seems to be a good moment as any to start one. I’ve just completed my graduation. And I have lots of free time – more than I know what to do with it. And since my 4 year stretch in the hostel has ended I feel that this is the perfect time to start something new. Let the end show the beginning... or something of that sort.

Let me tell you I’m old fashioned when it comes to writing. I love the feel of a pen in my hand. And the rustling sound that paper makes. Music to my ears, that. Writing has always had a cathartic effect on me. So this is sort of an adventure. Strange as it may sound ‘typing’ my thoughts down is like exploring a new realm –I’m more inclined towards penning them down. Stranger still because my future ‘work’ (doesn’t that seem grown up??) involves spending a lot of time in front of the comp screen.

What do you do when you find yourself longing for something that’s gone now but never really attracted you too much when it actually was there? Or you thought it didn’t. That’s how I feel about leaving the place that has been home to me for the past 4 years. The four years that I spent there have been an eye-opener. If it were a course that one took in college it would be named something like “An Introduction to the Inner Mind of Me “. I didn’t want to go in. I never wanted to stick around. I longed for the haven of my bedroom in my house with a novel in my hand and something to chomp on right next to me. I didn’t want to argue about which table or shelve I wanted or when the lights would go out in the room so that one could get a good night’s sleep. I didn’t think Maggi was food and I didn’t think applying a face-pack was an all important task that required a great deal of precision. No. None of that was for me. But you know what ? What I didn’t know was that while I had to deal with a lot of stuff I didn’t want to deal with, these years gave me things that I was better off having. For instance, where else would I have met 100 different types of people and learn to respect each one’s point of view, deciding whom to believe and what to believe? I always thought that getting where you want to is all that mattered. But I did not know how it was to watch people do that and more- at the same time getting the most out of life. I did not know how it felt to lie awake all night talking about dreams and destinations. I did not know how to turn Coffee into a survival tool or how to cook gourmet Fried Rice in a small saucepan. I did not know how much fun it would be having your dinner sitting on a ledge 5 storeys high. And I surely did not know how wonderful it was to hold a friend’s hand while dancing madly in the rain. Now I do. All that and loads more.

I made friends, yes. Made a lot of them, actually. Lost some along the way. But found the best one I’ve ever had. Looking at it another way, I found something I wouldn’t like to let go of. Ever. My interpretation of the word called Freedom. The freedom to mess up as badly as you can and as many times you can and coming out of it yourself with a little advice and help from friends . All the while learning from your experiences. It was a time to broaden my horizons. To learn and experience new things. Not all the moments were pleasant. Nor were all of them unpleasant. And now it’s over and done with. All I’m left with are a whole lot of memories in my store.

That’s all there is … There isn’t any more.