I sometimes wonder if the male and female of the human species were ever meant to be together. On one hand, men keep wondering why women are so complex and on the other hand, women keep wondering why men are so simple. It’s a paradox that only gets resolved in bollywood flicks… apparently. Boy sees girl, girl sees boy and they know they are made for each other. It helps that they’re both gym toned and look like Gods, I suppose. I don’t want their love story anyway, it’s too much about falling in love with an image and nothing about the realities. But what about the love story of all us ugly normal people? The ones who eat ice cream on a date and snort it out accidentally while laughing, the ones who give men flowers and cards and cry the whole night when they feel they’ve offended them? What about losers like us? I guess there’s always the old refrain of parents know best. I have never liked playing roles anyway so the good daughter role doesn’t fit me. Besides, my mother clearly told me that she has ‘better things to do’. Which is one of the trillion reasons why shes the perfect mother but that’s another story.
Well, considering that I had to find love, I started out as soon as I got rid of my braces, for obvious reasons. After my first relationship I realised that I was more in love with being in love than I was with the actual person. I never felt love in the traditional sense, it was always in the hopeless sense. I’ve always fallen in love with the retreating back of an ex- boyfriend. Reatreating since I didn't know how to tell him that I wanted him to show me that he loved me, more often. I have also fallen in love with a man who I knew I would never have a future with. I willingly fooled myself into believing that ‘in the future’ we would succeed in keeping in touch long distance and our relationship would continue because he ‘couldn’t help’ being in love with me. How naïve is that? Pathetically naïve.
Thats all in the past now. I look back on all my impulsive, foolish behaviour and wonder if some of the men were even worth it. Probably not. I don't regret anything. Atleast I don't regret being hurt. But I do regret hurting people.
Anyway, at present I am with an amazing guy who makes me forget everyone else. He's the right blend of masculinity, sensitivity, intelligence, responsiblity and arrogance which I find very attractive and he cares about me too. I couldn't be happier right now and I am at peace with the world. For the first time I feel secure and satisfied. It's weird and unusual for me because at one level, I had grown to enjoy the pain of being rejected. I suppose I had martyr's syndrome. Needless to say, I don't have it anymore. I'm on the path to being normal and I suppose this is as good a time as any to put away my butcher's knife.
Life sure is beautiful. It never fails to get you back on top when you're quite sure that you're stuck at the bottom. It brings you down time and time again, but then, thats what makes the happy parts worth the wait...right?

After my sabbatical

Its been awhile since I was inspired enough to make an entry... I've been busy. My new course keeps me busy. I love it inspite of the fact that most of the people in it get a kick out of dissecting each others negative qualities and feeling good about themselves. Its a seriously BORING passtime. I never knew I was living amongst such absolute hypocrites. This doesn't make me an angel. I'm so confused about the person I am that I'm sure that I'm everything bad and maybe something good. All the same, one thing I know for sure is that the petty day to day insecurities and goof ups of every tom, dick and harry do not thrill me.I get bored... I get bored a lot these days. Getting very emotionally numb too. Thats what scares me the most. I've become so cynical that the most horrific stories of injustice and intolerance just leave me feeling hurt at a superficial level. I used to get touched and be able to empathise but all thats gone. Hmm...
A friend recently asked me how come my blog was so depressing. I hadn't realised how boring it was until he pointed it out. I guess its because I'm not going through a very cheerful phase at the moment. I hope that my humour returns soon. I really miss it.
I'm glad I'm back in my confessional blog groove. I find it really therapeutic. I somehow find it very hard to talk to people.... Wonder why? Maybe because most of the time people don't want to listen. They just want to talk about themselves... Or maybe its because I'm screwed up in the head.

Arbit muck...

The disturbance of all that's secure, that's familiar.
That's what we are always fighting against.
We fight against change...yet it always finds a way of creeping back into our lives.
Still, when everything is in place, is perfectly in order, life dulls.
We find some way to bring everything crashing down.
Broken shards of memories long forgotten,
dragged out only to be smashed if only just to make some noise.
Dull shards, once alive, reflecting all the dancing lights of life, loose brilliance.

One lesson I learnt early in life was that it wasn't possible to envy or grudge anyone their lives. Theres always some part of it that's rotten and corroded. There's always some part of their personality that's rotten as well. I don't claim to be perfect that I'm passing judgement on the rest of humanity. Infact, I'm so far from perfect it gives me sleepless nights. Not that I'm complaining. I know that all that I am, I am because I made myself that way. Nobody's responsible, nobody's to blame. Makes things worse actually... I don't mind. I don't believe in feeling good by disillusioning myself. I'm not miserable either. Just aware of my limitations I guess. After all, man's biggest weakness is his self pity. Thinking about all the things that could have been his/hers, that was rightfully his/hers, that was taken away from him/her, eventually destroys him...

The reason I'm talking about all this is because off late, a lot of very big changes have taken place in my life and I feel dazed and confused. I tried to fill the gap with love but nothing worked out. All the better for me actually. I'm not in the right frame of mind to make anything work. I have inspired love but that is beginning to tire both the person in question and me. How does one tell someone that no matter how much they change themselves, they will not inspire love in the person they love. I used to treasure that naive belief for quite a while. It is so difficult to be rejected. I subconsciously couldn't believe I wasn't 'right' for the person I cared about. All I had to do was to be patient, to stay in their thoughts, to wait, to be eternally understanding. Or so I thought... Eventually, slowly, painfully I realised...I wasn't loved. Way to burst a very cherished bubble! I have learnt that care without occasion can get to be very annoying for the person on the receiving end. I know from personal experience that it becomes very frustrating and embaressing to explain time and again, that the sentiment isn't returned until a point when one just gives up altogether...

Someone read my palm once and told me I was fickle and that I would ditch my country and go make pot loads of money abroad. Saying that to a capitalist is cool, but to me it was a very big insult. Especially since I'm gearing up to practically live in poverty for the rest of my life (I want to work in an ngo. I'm not going to be poor but you can understand how I don't expect to make any money don't you?). I've started by working on my adipose tissue. All I do at the moment is stay at home, eat and sleep. It's sort of my hibernation period. Soon I'll be a raging grizzly bear, wiping out all the obstacles in my path with one swipe of my paw. Or so I hope...

Anyway, thats about all I feel like writing about today. This blog hasn't been created to display my literary prowess. It's more like a journal. I hope my friends will read it when I leave this city so they always know 'what's up' in my life... :o) I'm not justifying the lack of blockbuster content...well...actually I am :oP...damn! What other people think does matter :o(

In the morning

Cold winter morning.
Sky ash grey covers all.
Smokey breath, still solitude
finding fulfillment in loneliness.
Sun cloaked in grey stillness,
sleeps peacefully, breathes easy.
A day to be late,
a day to bury in.
All problems forgotten.
Happiness deep, envelops all
memories and present moment.
Dance, run and laugh
drink in this wonderful air
full of love, promise and dreams eternal.
Grey music, comforting grey,
familiar grey, lonely grey
and yet... grey delight!
I am yours, grey morning
just as you are mine.

Metaphysical mess that I'm trying to figure out...

This city is home no more. There isn't a single thing in this city that is disappointing. Yet I am restless... What am i doing here? I don't belong. The more I stay here the more the wildness within me dies. As I grow older I begin to bury the truth under layers of cynicism and supposed wisdom. The fire within me is fading. Passion replaced by pragmatism. Is life to be lived within the secure confines of ignorance, surviving from day to day, afraid of change, under the disillusion that true satisfaction can be bought, ignoring one's conscience in the false belief that problems sort themselves out. Is life to be lived in surviving? Does living mean satisfying all our senses? Or does it mean debating and understanding the pertinence of existence. I am not satisfied by consumerism. Nothing the market has to offer tempts me. I am selfish. I need to be...and yet, so is everybody else. Is survival the sole basis of existence. Why this life? Why these problems? Why this suffering to those so innocent? What are they being punished for? Is there any justice? Why death, to so many who haven't begun living? Is learning important? Shouldn't I be given a chance to learn from my own death? Do I even matter?... This world is home no more... yet I am determined to try... to try living my way. Is that whats important?

Of catnaps and catnip.

I have a very entertaining cat. His intelligence takes us by surprise sometimes. For instance we have seen him flush the toilet on three separate occasions. All that remains to be done is to teach him to piss in it first. He walks about the house confident in the assumption that he rules it and that it's his territory. This inspite of the fact that he shares it with a very big, very jealous dog and a hysterical female cat. I'm going to stop here to describe my female cat (all you dog lovers may notice I'm not taking time out to describe my dog. Thats because this post is devoted exclusively to my cats). She's naturally sterile and hence naturally very crabby(my dog's been operated and she's also very crabby. I am not, in case you're wondering, referring to the formiddable, retired, sultry vixens of our species). Although she's sterile she gets plenty of action about once in two months (she's got it made huh! All the fun and none of the responsibility). At this point she becomes possessed by her inner demons. Primary amongst these being her indignation at having to share space with a drooling, disgusting beast. She gets very exhausted from all her late night orgies, where I'm quite sure she does catnip, and returns in a very bad mood(catnip hangover). This bad mood she promptly takes out on our poor resident disgusting beast, which if you haven't guessed refers to my dog. She makes my dog cower in a corner with just a reproachful glance. If she passes her in a narrow corridor she arches her back and lets out a long-drawn meaningful meow, as if to say, if you as much as breathe on me you're dead fish.
On one rare occasion she decided to take matters into her own hands and let the DB know who's boss. My brother was on the phone, my mom was in the kitchen and I was on the computer. We suddenly heard that meaningful meow I was talking about earlier, followed by a series of cat shrieks and dog growls. We rushed outside to find both of them locked in combat. Although the cat is smaller we were wondering who we should rescue first because the dog seemed to be losing. I finally pulled my cat, kicking and screaming, away from my dog. We checked both our pets to see what damage had been done only to find that my cat was unharmed while my poor dog had a scratch near her eye. According to eyewitness accounts, my dog was napping peacefully under a chair when my hysterical cat leapt on her. Hence i described her as being hysterical. She's is intolerant of any other animal other than her numerous lovers and that too only once in two months. As a pet she's adorable. She jumps up onto our lap, looks into our eyes and purrs loudly. She is also very gentle with us. I haven't been scratched by her intentionally even once, which if you know cats is a very big achievement and knowing me is an even bigger one since I love to annoy my pets. All you PFA members reading this, by annoy I don't mean that I drop hot objects on them.
In contrast to my female feline my male one strongly resembles my dog in all aspects but one. He doesn't like to snack on crap the way my dog does. Which embarrassingly she loves to do. We have tried stopping her in every way possible but when we aren't looking she sneaks out of the house, runs out onto the road and well... lets just say she doesn't feel too hungry for dinner.
My macho cat is so distinct from his feline flat mate in the most basic of ways. First off, he throws his legs out when he walks unlike our delicate female who always crosses her legs when she walks. He eats anything we put in his dish and has a very sunny disposition. The only time he's lost his temper has been when I tried to take his dish away from him while he was eating. His hobbies include pushing things off shelves (especially if they make a crashing noise on landing), playing with water and tormenting our female feline. Unlike all the other cats I've had, this one loves water. He spends inordinately long hours in the loo running around and dipping his paws in buckets filled with water. He also loves performing complicated maneuvers in order to reach and irritate our FF. This is very easily accomplished since if he lays a single claw on her she screams bloody murder. Unfortunately this just motivates him to bug her more. Thus our house is in perpetual chaos. People on the road think we torture our pets... His torment of our FF continues till she runs outside. He doesn't follow her because he is only 6 months old and still very scared of venturing outside, despite his brave exterior. All in all he's the only man in my life without whom life wouldn't be worth living. He even gives me gifts now and then, so what if they are predominantly of the dead rodent kind.
To all those people who thought that all cats are alike I hope this post has cleared your doubts...

Haiku

Wisps of clouds brush by the moon
blue moon
blood red moon
Water sparkles unceasing
treasure revealed
yet unseen.
Glorious mud rich with scent
the scent of life and that of death.