imoliveriwantmore

About a Man

2009-07-12T00:49:00.010Z

He is a BSc in Chemistry with Physics and Biology as subsidiary subjects and an M.A in English language and Literature and a B.Ed with teaching methods in English and Science. His dad wanted him to be a doctor. But he didn't want to study that hard.

He was a stud in his younger days. He has sported numerous styles of beards right from the French goatee, to the clover shaped (from the pack of cards) beard, and also, the Elvis Presley sideburns and even bright red, blue and I think even dark green bell bottoms in his fashionable prime.

He always carried himself really well. When he went to the army headquarters to visit his younger brother who was in the army, the jawaans (soldiers) always saluted him and not his brother.

He was one of thirteen kids and his dad's favourite (In his 'unbiased' opinion). His dad took him along wherever he went. His dad always told him that when you marry don't look at their economic status. The family should be good and suitable (background-wise), the girl educated and they must have faith. In the Almighty, of course. That is all you need. He followed his dad's advice. Sadly his dad didn't live to see his wedding.

A long time ago, when he was of 'marriageable age' and they were looking for suitable girls, he set out one day to see some 'prospective' brides. (He was looking for the singular for himself, of course.)

The third girl he saw that day stood in front of him in a saree. Her hair had been tied in haste and was still dripping wet. She had just come into the house after her bath in the pond. (In reality, she rushed out of the pond and into the house on hearing their car pull into their front yard. She must have wrapped herself in a saree in a fraction of a minute). In her nervousness, she grabbed a baby and went in front of the party from the boys' side to 'present' herself.

He took one look at her holding this random baby (each leg saddled across either side of her waist) and at that moment he saw her holding his babies in future. And the decision was made. She went on to be his wife.

They settled in Pune.

She gave him two kids.

First, a son was born. Eleven years later, a daughter. According to him, his children are made up of grapes and apples. He even knows the percentage they (the apples and the grapes) constitute of their children's makeup. 80%, to be precise.

Initially, only he had a job. He taught English in an all boys' school. He taught me to love English too. He loved the Classics. He was a voracious reader. The literary greats. Charles Dickens. Shakespeare. George Bernard Shaw. Jane Austen. The Bronte sisters. Mark Twain. And so many many more. I got my introduction and subsequent addiction to the Classics from him.

But a few years down the line, for the economic situation at home to be more comfortable, his wife took up a teaching job too. She taught Science and Mathematics. In a different boys' school. His son went to a Jesuit school and his daughter to a convent school run by the Sisters of Jesus and Mary.

He dropped and picked her up from work everyday. He dropped me and picked me up from school, on his scooter, every single day of my entire life at school, except this once. I waited and waited after school. And I thought he forgot about me. I thought they forgot about me. I was obviously wrong. They had been detained by an urgent parent teacher's meeting.

And then two hours later my mum came. (She left the meeting to be with me) She and I played basketball in my school's basketball court till he finished the parent teacher's meeting. My mum was in a Saree and yet, she was pretty darn good. At the game, of course. After the meeting he took my mom and me home.

For many years, as a side business to being a school teacher, he supplied Cloves from Kerela to wholesalers in Pune. The merchants called him 'anna' (big brother). I learnt about Grade I, II and III of cloves. (Grade I was of the best quality. The head of the clove was still attached). During that time, he bought loads and loads of dry fruits for us. The figs, (my favourite) he brought specially for me. Then the Indian Government imported cloves from abroad and the prices fell miserably. Never to rise to be a profitable business ever again. Many farmers went bankrupt. The suppliers also suffered. So that put an end to the supplying business for my dad.

At home, from the time that I can remember, and even to this day, he does the slicing and the dicing. And mum does the cooking. She prepares the batter, he does the frying. She does the sweeping, he does the mop. She washes the clothes (she hates washing machines (the one at home is only used to wash bedsheets), he rinses them and puts them out to dry. She draws up the list of what needs to be bought and he goes to market to fetch everything on that list. If he can't find exactly what she asked for, he checks if the substitute is acceptable with her and if yes, brings it home.

Every time they cross the road, they have an argument. He wants her to walk beside him so that he is in the way of oncoming traffic and she inevitably, always does the opposite. Then they have a minor quarrel and he gets her to change sides so that finally, he is her shield from the oncoming traffic.

He loves his meat. Every meal of every day must have something non-vegetarian. If nothing else, at least an egg. At least the smell of an egg, he insists. (and he isn't kidding!) I am a pure non-vegetarian because of him.

Ever since I was little, he always said, "If it was acceptable for men to have long hair I would have worn my hair far lower than my bum". As it wasn't, he got me to grow my hair. Actually washed my hair every single day till I was eight years old. And combed and plaited my hair every morning before I went to school till I was 13.

His favourite sister cut my hair once and he was so miffed that he didn't talk to her for two days.

He switched to his trademark 'Safari suit' attire when his shirts and trousers started disappearing from his wardrobe and were mysteriously found on the person of his teenage son.

He retired in 2001, the year I passed out of school.

Ever since, he spends at least an hour in prayer everyday. He has read the Holy Bible in its entirety a couple of times. He and his wife attend mass daily. Almost every single day.

He is really protective of his family. Especially the women from all the male predators out there. On family outings (especially extended family outings) he is the self appointed 'watchman'. Guarding the women from prying eyes. Shooing the lecherous men away.

He is instinctively wary of any of his daughter's male friends. He scared a random boy on the street who was looking at his daughter nearly to death once.

He is a strict father but he never stood in the way of his children's dreams and aspirations, their education and career. He made sure that he provided them with the best opportunities. Made the finances available for them to take advantage of what the world had to offer. They studied at prestigious institutes. The son didn't spend nearly half as much of their money as the daughter did. He neither complained of nor objected to her 'lofty' plans.

He has lived his entire life for his family. Caring for them, providing for them, loving them, living for them. Of course, none of this would have been possible without the support, the love and the dedication of his truly amazing wife.

They sacrificed so very much for their children including all their personal wishes, ambitions, aspirations and desires in order to create an environment wherein their children could achieve each of theirs.

He lost an eye for me. Because of me. But never a harsh word did I hear from him about that. Not once has he ever complained. He says, "I can see perfectly well with the other eye so I don't feel like I miss anything at all. Really".

He calls me his DDD. DDD stands for Dearest Darling Daughter.

He is the best father a child could ever wish for. And she, the best mum!

But this post is about my dad.

I woke up this morning because of a terrible dream. I was in tears and very shaken by the dream. I frantically called my dad and he assured me that all is well. More importantly, that he is just fine.

I sincerely pray to the Lord Almighty to bless him and Mummy and to keep them in good health for years and years to come so that they may reap the benefits of their hard work of so many years.

And also, so that my brother and I can continue to benefit from their guidance, blessings, prayers and sheer presence in our lives.

I love you Papa (you too Mummy!)and I miss you very very much.

Thanking you for being you. I wouldn't trade you for the world!

The blog.

2009-07-12T00:25:00.005Z

Its the 12th of July and this is only my second post in 2009. I can't believe it. Many things have changed. Many have remained the same.

Part of me has changed. The rest has remained the same.

I still love writing. I still love reading.

But I have stayed away.

Willingly. Unwillingly. Unwittingly. Knowingly. Unknowingly. Consciously. Subconsciously. Somehow. Inexplicably.

Fact of the matter is I have.

Maybe I didn't want people to be privy to my life. My thoughts. My feelings. My opinions. Or maybe I didn't want to say things out loud. In case I realised it myself.

When you put stuff down on paper (or on a blog as in this instance) it becomes real. Meaning it has been expressed. It is out in the open.

Maybe you want that. Maybe you don't. Your not sure.

And sometimes the silence helps. Heals. In heaps. It hears.

Or maybe the option is D)None of the above.

Or you simply forgot.

About the silence. The speech. The expression. The opinion. The thoughts. The feelings. The voices.

The blog.

P.S: I'm still Oliver and I still want more.

Can you help?

2009-02-13T19:27:00.004Z

It has been just over a month since I moved to London and taking the tube to get anywhere has almost become second nature to me.
Every single day I pass hundreds of people, travel with hundreds of them, and walk past them up and down the escalators and I can't help but wonder (when I am not worried about getting late to work!!!) about their individual stories. People don't talk on the tube, they avoid eye contact too and smiling is simply out of the question.

So, it took some getting used to for a chatterbox like me. But sometimes I get a glimpse of a pair of eyes and I feel like those eyes are crying out for help. For someone to talk to, for someone to listen to their sad stories. Maybe they just lost their job, or they're relationship just ended, or they're going through a rough patch, or they've just lost a dear one or they're lonely. Sometimes those eyes are mine and some times they're someone else's.

And those eyes have just one question.... I can almost hear the words..

"Can you help?"

Being neutral

2008-12-15T01:31:00.002Z

It's so difficult to ignore and more importantly remain calm and unaffected by filth. I speak both literally and figuratively.
It could just be a messy kitchen. It could also be certain filthy people who believe in exalting themselves by putting down those that preceded them. Maybe they feel threatened. Maybe they feel triumphant and they want to lord over their victories. Or if I may crudely put it they want to relish the spoils.

Maybe they feel justified. Maybe it's displacement. Denial. Projection or any of the other defense mechanisms. Or maybe the only thing that makes them happy about their current situation is their conviction that they have got what the other individual has supposedly lost!

Pointed accusations hurt. Especially when people just won't let things go and move on with their own lives and keep their noses in their own filthy business. It sometimes gets difficult to ignore it. So one feels like doing something about it. But then it dawns upon one that you can't change others and you can't make them clean or rather keep them clean. Especially if they just go ahead and roll over in the same shit over and over again and play the same stale tape over and over while rolling in the old shit.

That's when you suddenly realise. Hey! I am above all this crap and I just don't give a tiny rat's ass.

And my advice to the filthmongers and the holier than thou preachers. Stop fooling yourself. Enjoy what you've got because you have it and not because someone else doesn't. You deserve it. You've earned it. And most importantly, you've stuck with it.

Goodnight, goodbye and good luck.

P.S: Just keep me out of it!

:)

'A Wednesday'

2008-11-28T22:11:00.004Z

Mumbai is under siege and so it has been for the past three days since Wednesday. The hotels, the hospital, the Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus, the Jewish centre, each and every place that was targeted reeks of a well co-ordinated bid to destroy, to violate, to massacre, to ruin and to terrorise. The harbingers of war, perpetrators of evil, hatred, violence and destruction have come together and taken Mumbai hostage.

An attack on Mumbai is an attack on our business capital, the highest tax paying city in the country and it is really an attack on our pride. We have worked hard to improve our situation as a third world country and to be a nation to reckon with and now, if the city that never sleeps, the city that has been the driving force of the progress of our country is under attack, it is an insult, the worst sort of insult to India and to every Indian worth his salt, to every Indian who is proud to be an Indian.

But what has been more upsetting is some of the coverage of the event by the International media. Indian hospitals unable to cope with treating the numerous injured in Mumbai, an analysis of the way in which Indian forces have handled the terror situation, repeated and pointed questions towards Indian authorities and journalists asking them if India is pointing its finger, as usual, toward Pakistan and all such cheap attempts 'to make hay while the sun shines' and boost one's viewership or readership should be forsaken. Its time journalists stop seeing bad news as good news, its time we stop being hounds and become humans, humans that are sensitive to a nation under attack, humans that are mindful not to throw salt upon open wounds and humans that ensure the world comes together in support of a nation fighting terror.

Prodigal daughter

2008-10-17T14:35:00.002Z

Up above on that tiny little cloud playing hide and seek with the sun along with other tiny and equally naughty, playful and spunky little clouds, I lay blissfully unaware of life's many pressing questions. My tiny little break.
Its an ordinary day. Nothing particularly unusual or memorable about it. But a story can't be that simple and straightforward, can it? There needs to be a conflict or a series of conflicts and eventually, some resolution.
And of course there have been conflicts. Too many perhaps. There was absolute lawlessness. There was lying, thievery, sneaking, cheating, lying, wanton behaviour, there was anger, hatred, all-destroying rage, all-consuming jealousy and ambition and greed, there was unhealthy competition, unhealthy vibes. And yet something clicked. Everything wasn't resolved technically. But the sun came out. And everything fell into place. Just like a skillfull driver changes gears effortlessly and beautifully thus making the car just glide forward; very much like the smooth swish of a gifted artist's hand thus completing a grand masterpiece, somehow miraculously life goes on, people recover, people find alternatives, solace, peace, love and many other things, in the least expected places.

But whats most miraculous is the knowledge of one's folly, of being aware of one's errors and most importantly, the repentance that always accompanies genuine desire for improvement, for resurrection. There may be many more mistakes and detours.

After all, even the Lord fell three times while carrying His Cross. But victory lay in rising again.

The prodigal daughter is coming home Father. I ask not, for any fatted cow. Just for a little place at their feet.

Being Indian

2008-08-25T18:38:00.002Z

Lately I've become very intolerant of long, preachy, highly introspective and philosophical and 'artistic' writings and therefore I want to make this short and crisp.
Here I am living in the UK, trying to fulfill my destiny, if ever there were such a thing. And the one thing this foreign land has helped me discover about myself, is my pride in my land, in it's history and heritage, in my upbringing, the traditional family ties, in the Indian education system, in the chaotic traffic on potholed roads, in the mouth watering-tear inducing-lips burning sort of spicy food and even in our climate (We have something called the sun. (a rare sight in England!)) and also very specially in my skin tone (its hot just like our climate!).

I take pride especially, in the Indian call centres and their ability to serve customers in countries and situations far removed from our own. And I wish people were a bit more tolerant and mindful of the fact that it is a stressful job and the person on the other end of the phone is trying their very hardest to be of help. Anyway, I digress.

Point is I love being Indian. Not in a 'We're so superior than the rest of you sort of way' but more like I just don't want to be born as anyone else sort of a way.

P.S: I do wish we could freely travel around Europe and not have to get an expensive visa each time. Oh well. One can't have everything.

God's ways

2008-08-19T18:41:00.003Z

I am finally done with my Masters in multi-media journalism. I have handed in the last marked assignment.

And with impeccable timing, my computer crashed the very next day and with it obviously the entire year's work. Luckily, the hard drive died on me exactly one month prior to the expiry of its warranty.
Yet another demonstration of the Lord's incredible timing and His amazing ways.

All in good time.
All in good time.

Praise be the Lord!

Summer love

2008-08-18T02:06:00.003Z

Short and sweet.
Blissful.
Invigorating.
Thrilling.
Hassle-free

And yet its over.
Soon.
Too soon.

Why cant life be one long, beautiful, glorious summer?

my Pride. my Inspiration.

2008-05-03T19:54:00.004Z

While mere mortals like me sit here dreaming, bickering, losing track and focus and direction and what else not, super amazing, ultra talented and driven people, such as my former classmate and current inspiration, Susha Soman, are out there making real journalism.

Here's the link to her first and absolutely stunning work 'on air' on CNN IBN.

http://www.ibnlive.com/videos/64170/plagiarism-chord-that-strings-pritams-music.html

Orange!

2008-05-03T18:59:00.003Z

I promised myself that this year would be about taking on new challenges. Facing my fears. Expanding my capabilities. Overcoming my shortcomings.

And most importantly taking up challenges I conveniently avoided. Until NOW.

So here I was before the Orange outlet. Soaking in the vibrancy of the colour. More so the people. The technology. The care, attention, precision and legality it demands.

This was also a bid to overcome and totally get rid of my recently acquired shyness and inhibition and my, I won't exactly say, lack of confidence, rather my predisposition to just hold myself back so as to avoid embarrassment and a preference for going unnoticed rather than attracting too much attention.

Coming out of my 'Comfort Zone', so to speak, in 'Self Help' terms.

Anyway, my first day as a sales advisor. A lot to take in.

New people. New environment. Totally new and unfamiliar gadgets. Newer customers. All hopefully befriended. Some realistically.

A new beginning.

An admission of ignorance.

But, also, a willingness to learn.

Happy happy

2008-04-09T21:07:00.004Z

I love it when people post comments on ancient posts of mine. It makes me go back and read the post and the comment. And its a special sort of happiness. First and foremost, someone's interested in my writing and is taking the trouble to read the older posts and second I recall the circumstances around the post and the refreshed memory makes me appreciate my journey so far and that makes me happier still because I then realise how blessed I am because of all the wonderful people that surround me and those who have helped me thus far and those because of whom I have had such a good life. It's like a nuclear reaction.

It ends in this uncontrollable, amaing explosion of tremendous joy and happiness. All because someone took the trouble to leave a comment.

Talk about low maintenance.

Wake up! Its snowing!!!

2008-04-06T12:00:00.004Z

Wake up! Its snowing!!!
When was the last time you heard someone say that. Well, for me it was the very first time. I opened my eyes, drew the curtains and it was white. All white.

I simply couldn't believe my eyes. Couldn't contain my excitement. Nor could I control my feet. They sprang out of the room of their own accord, down the stairs, through the door and out.. welcoming the flakes that were still falling.

They fell softly, gently. And I knew. Right then. We were going to be friends. More than friends maybe. It seemed like a perfect match you know. It was worth the wait.

All those years of anticipation, the yearning, the longing, the pining, the numerous expectations, the fanciful imagination, my mind's conceptions, concoctions even. I couldn't wait to behold the precipitation.

I had imagined this moment so many times. How would I feel? How would I react? What must I do? What must I say? Should I be silent? Or should I delve straight into a conversation, a dialogue, some friendly banter maybe? Should I be formal? Or relaxed and laidback? Should I play it cool? Detached and indifferent? Intense and thoughtful? Mysterious and hard to get?

But nothing prepared me for this moment. The moment we first met. My heart was racing, excited, scared, happy, throbbing. All at the same time.

I was delighted. The snow was beautiful and I love all things beautiful. The snow was gentle and who doesn't like a soft caress. The snow had enveloped the entire landscape in almost no time and I've always respected achievers. The view was enchanting, might I say, bewitching. I was certainly charmed. I felt a chill. He was cool. The situation looked promising. I could see a future.

It seemed like a good alliance. My kind of man.

I boldly and enthusiastically ventured out. In my enthusiasm, I threw caution to the winds and gave right into the impulse. And I didn't bother to use any protection. I paid the price you know.

I made my first baby too. A snow baby of course. I was aiming for a snowman but I quickly realised, the Lord has given me a lot of gifts and talents. But craftsmanship, he has not. My long fingers weren't very useful in making anything that looked like anything. The end result looked like a baby to me. He didn't quite come out very proportionate. But he's cute all the same. His name's Plum. Cause his mouth's shaped like one. (That is also because it is one)

Anyway, within a few minutes of handling the snow. I felt this biting cold in my hands. My hands went numb. And so did my feet. My toes began to hurt with the cold.

His coolness didn't seem that attractive anymore. When I tried talking and reasoning with him, he turned to ice. The path was slippery. The flowers had been weighed down by him. It didn''t look like they would survive. Everything was white. There was no colour to be seen.

Then it dawned on me. As beautiful and wonderful as snow is, he is. or rather, can be very harsh too. He causes many accidents, delays and he can be very inconvenient as well.

I rushed back into the house. To feel the warmth. To get the blood running in my veins again. To experience life. To forget that cold, numb, lifeless feeling.

Once I had recovered, I looked out the window and I was drawn to the snow yet again. This time, I took the necessary precautions. I was more careful and better covered. I did enjoy the scene. My clothes kept me warm and protected me from his harshness. And this allowed my eyes to enjoy the view. The new view. The true view.

I returned home a little later.

By afternoon, he was nearly gone. The sun had come out and he had melted away. I was sad. Not heartbroken or anything. Just sad that I didn't say goodbye. He didn't wait long enough. He couldn't I guess.

He took Plum with him. I'll miss the little fellow. I'll miss his father too.

And in all honestly, I do love the snow. Not as a companion though.

It really happened!

2008-04-04T23:24:00.003Z

I shall make no attempt at eloquence or any effort to indulge in frivolous language. I am just so glad that it has finally really truly actually seriously in reality happened.
Veena Zacharias, only daughter of wonderful wonderful wonderful parents and only sister of the best brother in the world is in BBC!

Its been two weeks. I am an intern. With BBC radio Berkshire. I have been inside the hallowed walls, seen brilliance at work, seen talent, seen ability, seen first rate journalists and good human beings too.

And I just can't believe that it has really happened.

Pinching myself. Loving it. Living it. Feeling it. Thanking You for it.

the 'Drudge Report'

2008-03-01T19:07:00.004Z

Prince Harry has returned from Afghanistan thanks to a "Drudge Report" and its big mouth.

The BBC videos of Prince Harry reveal a man who wants to be a soldier to serve his country or maybe to just be a part of the action, a man who is tired of being treated differently but also a man who understands that it is always going to be this way because he was born into 'Royalty' and with its perks come constant, intrusive and never ending media scrutiny and speculation.

I almost heard him say, "If only people would let me be!"

Was the media blackout justified?

Well, I think it was because it ensured the safety of both Prince Harry and the equally important soldiers who were deployed with him. And in my opinion, it was extremely irresponsible and very 'vulture' like to have flashed the news knowing fully well the consequences of doing so.

Is it impossible for the people in the media to stop being news hounds and be humans once in a while?

Web book award for Dorset writer

2008-02-29T23:28:00.003Z

As I hit refresh on the BBC Dorset news webpage, expecting news of scams or drug raids (Majority of Dorset news stories seem to revolve around these two topics), I was pleasantly surprised to find a story that read "A Dorset writer who published chapters of her latest book online will make it into print as the winner of YouWriteOn website's book of the year awards."

I said to myself, "So we do report good news."

A few moments later, another thought struck me. I was reading an article about a writer who published a few chapters from her book on the internet and winning a book of the year award from a website on the BBC website.

It seemed so natural and perfectly normal.

Only on pondering over the news piece did I notice that we had replaced age old traditions like paper backs or hard binds, publishers and newspapers with just a few clicks.

I am not sure if I want to let go, just yet, of the pleasure in turning each page of a gripping thriller eager to learn what's in store for the heroine. And I still want to read about what's happening in the world while gloriously sitting on my throne.

This, from a student of multi-media journalism. Isn't it ironic?

'Anti-freeze' marriage

2008-02-28T16:42:00.003Z

"I, Kate, take you, Lee, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part."

Maybe these vows were long forgotten when Kate Knight was busy scheming the death of a husband. Or maybe she was just making sure that death did do them apart and left her a whole lot richer and debt-free.

Kate Knight, 28, was found guilty of the attempted murder of Lee Knight at their home in Stoke-on-Trent, Staffordshire in 2005.

She tried to kill her husband by putting anti-freeze into his curry and wine on their seventh wedding anniversary! Talk about a memorable way to celebrate their togetherness.

The court heard that Knight plotted to poison her husband in order to collect a £130,000 payout from his employer, in order to clear her £17,000 loans and remortgage.

At first glance, we see a sick, desperate, selfish, uncaring, careless and callous woman without morals and a conscience scheming, plotting and devising ‘Operation Debt-riddance’.

But in looking deeper, one has to ask, “How did she get to such a desperate state?”

Was it the credit companies who make credit cards so easy to own and encourage even probably pray for reckless spending? Or was it the betting shops on every street offering instant money, instant fortunes and asking for absolutely no labour? Or was it that shady peddler offering the highest ‘high’ of your lifetime for the hundredth time? Or was it the flashy lifestyle, the ‘diva’ clothing, the brand fixation, the aspiration to live like rich and (in)famous celebrities?

More importantly, how many of us are headed towards this downward spiral?

Sick society?

2008-02-28T01:41:00.002Z

Sometimes, the news in the papers just wrenches your heart out and makes you wonder if the world is going to shambles. But once in a while, you read about something so tragic, so remarkably sad that you can almost feel the pain and for a moment there your heart is engulfed in a wave of sadness.

An inquest at Bournemouth heard the terrible story of a mentally ill man who continued to try and feed his father's decomposing body and was playing music in his dead mother's ears. He believed they were still alive.

Police found the bodies of John and Christine Dumsday in an upstairs flat with the son Paul right by their side. There was a napkin round Mr Dumsday's neck and walkman headphones in Mrs Dumsday's ears.

How did this family get so neglected that months went by before anyone noticed? Why have we become so self-centred, so private that we don’t know who are neighbour is? We don’t know his name, have probably passed him by in a corridor but never stopped to notice, to say hello, to just smile.

How many more Pauls exist around us? I have an inkling this incident is just an indication of the sickness that has spread through our society. We are in urgent need of treatment and rehabilitation.

The disease has already claimed so many lives. And so many more are at stake. This disease goes by the name of apathy.

News values

2008-02-28T01:21:00.002Z

We live in a world where bad news is good news for the media. As I live and learn in the eternal hope of making a career in the media someday, I have been taught this principle over and over, Conflict, pain, suffering, tragedy, turmoil are all essential ingredients for a good news story.
Is it the media just providing the public what they want, or is it the media determining, cultivating and dictating to their audience what they should see or is it just media's unfounded assumption that only bad news sells?

TRP ratings say otherwise.

Have we become sadistic and voyeuristic, taking pleasure and being entertained by the trauma others have suffered? Or have we always been this way and the media has got our pulse and is just making hay?

I just got thinking about all this when I caught myself thinking terrible things. I was saying to myself, "Why is Bournemouth such quiet, peaceful town? God!! Nothing ever happens in here. I need something drastic for the news stories to be handed in at the university this week"

Its precisely then that I realised; I am part of the system. Or maybe, I have always been.

Adrenalin

2008-02-04T10:49:00.000Z

When you just get back and take charge. Pick up after the mess with a defiant air. Calculate, strategise and set in motion the action plan in a matter of seconds.
When you resolve to fight and subdue and not take flight or submit.

That heady feeling. That rush. That exhilaration. That immense satisfaction. And the pride in oneself.

It's fantastic

Being too hard on yourself

2008-02-03T19:48:00.000Z

What happens when you expect too much? Or you always want things to be just right?

You either learn that its impossible for things to go your way or as per your plans always. Physical limits, personal shortcomings, circumstances, other people, plain rotten luck. Anything or everything could go wrong. In the war that is life, you win some and you lose some. Or you remain an obstinate mule and throw your feet up in the air until you are given what you want. (That maybe adorable when a pretty 2 year old does it but a fully grown adult doing that is, quite frankly, plain revolting)

Its ok to be a perfectionist. To want the best. To be the best. To settle for nothing less. Eventually.

Defeat or failure is fine. And there can be two responses to failure.

You could panic, gasp, shiver, shudder, tremble, suffocate and die like a fish out of water does. Be as helpless and pathetic and pitiable as that. Those who care for you may cry and wish you had achieved your potential.

Or like the lizard you could regrow the rest of your body if you have managed to salvage just your tail.

And live to see another day.

And maybe, conquer it.

So, what's it gonna be?

Lose lose

2008-02-03T18:57:00.000Z

I observe.
I think.
I ponder.
I scrutinise.
I evaluate.
I judge.
I decipher.
I conclude.
I react.
Sometimes the above process is completed within seconds and sometimes it takes what seems like centuries and for some things I think the process will not be completed in my lifetime.

But this is how I react to every stranger I meet, to every new situation or scenario I encounter and to every new development in my life.

I am a very opinionated person. Things are either black or white to me. I don't see grey. Consequently, I either love or hate people. Adore or detest them. Embrace or abor them. Indulge or ignore them. It's a 100% in or out situation.

And I usually get a similar response in return.

This is how its been so far.

Sometimes I feel happy that there isn't a fake bone in my body but sometimes I wish I were more tolerant. Or that people would get me.

Neither option is viable.

Age old lament

2008-01-26T11:58:00.000Z

This was the topic of a recent conversation. And when the other person was voicing the thoughts that I have had time and time again about myself, it struck me that we're not as unique as we think we are. It's the same or a similar story everywhere. In a very weird sort of way it was good to have found company.

But in all sincerity I hope this friend does not succumb to the desolation. Instead. I hope my friend rises way above it all to have a spectacular life.

A tribute to you my lovely friend!

Blatant disregard to their feelings, pain, inconvenience, troubles, suffering, needs, insecurities, longings, difficulties, desires, priorities, compulsions, limitations, hopes, dreams, expectations, aspirations, ambitions, attachments and sensitivities.

It’s all about me, my needs, my feelings, my pain, my problems, my expectations, my suffering, my hopes and dreams, my this, my that. Me me me me me me.

Milked them dry. That’s what I did. Bled them till they could take it no more. All that was left of the genuine ones was the numbness. The others dusted off any signs of me and moved on before one can say boo.

The worst part is I have been aware of this all along. The whole damn time. Every single time.

But I am like a music player set on loop mode. The song just plays over and over and over and over. The listeners change but the song’s the same.

Lazy? Your nearly dead...

2008-01-23T00:29:00.000Z

Change is the only constant in life. By that logic, the only way one can stay on top of things is by constantly adapting to change. Maybe getting a few steps ahead.

And so rest or stillness comes only in death.

Dark and unsettling.

Also, this is really bad news for the lazy ones.

And quietly doesn't flow the Veena....

2008-01-02T19:04:00.000Z

With every new year, a realisation sets in that another year has gone by. I'm older and none the wiser? I hope that's not true.

I tried hard, real hard to resist, to fight the feeling, the urge, the compulsion to assess, review, examine, scrutinise, to understand the choices I made, the mistakes, the impulsive decisions but I just couldn't do it.

So I threw my head back, closed my eyes and had this out of body like experience and looked back at 2007.

And all I have to say is that I had my fair share of excitement, drama, suspense, pain like a sharp spear being thrust painfully slowly into your stomach, betrayal, scares and threats, twists and turns, unexpected developments, much awaited and much longed for opportunities, farewells both good and bad, mistakes both terrible and silly, tragedy, heartbreak, victories, accomplishments, long lasting life giving life support system like friends and constant, consistent change in 2007.

And truth be told, 2007 treated me well.

But I am still like this flowing stream. I have passed through many rocky patches, down breathtaking mountain slopes, through beautiful villages and yet my river is nowhere in sight.

Not yet.

I guess I will just have to keep flowing.

Happy new year!

2008-01-02T18:58:00.000Z

I sent the following message to all my friends: Each and every one of them. Ok I'll admit it. I sent it to all whose numbers I still had.

"Here's to wishing us a spectacular new year filled with great jobs, true loves, trials, triumphs and happiness!!!!"

Well, this goes out to all those who didn't get my message but remember to check me up on my blog because you care enough to want to know what's happening in my life. I wish this wish for all of us.

Happy new year. :)

Some shit!

2007-11-22T02:03:00.001Z

No plan. No method. No organisation. Just going with the flow. Accepting whatever was handed out. Not being happy with it. Complaining about it. But doing nothing.

Like babies who have just done the big job. It's uncomfortable. It smells. They definitely don't like it. (hence, the crying) But they just lay there. Until we, as adults or in this case, more specifically as parents, come to their rescue.

Wipe them clean. Powder that cute little hindside. Put on some fresh (possibly fragrant) diapers. And then watch them smile. Picture perfect.

Time passes.

And then nobody comes along to clean your shit.

Even if you are ready with that million dollar smile.

Late night chat

2007-11-17T02:51:00.000Z

Hearing yourself speak from the other end.

Listening to someone else making the same mistakes you made.

Someone else knowingly, willingly experiencing the pain. Embracing it. Enjoying it. In this masochistic way. Prolonging the healing. The recovery. Just revelling in the misery. Wallowing in self pity.

Enjoying being the victim. The martyr. The good guy. The human being. The good human being. The well meaning good human being. The lost well meaning good human being.

And it occurs to you.

We enjoy the mistakes. We need some pain. We need some heartbreak. We need some misfortune. We need some bad runs. We need some rain. We need some heartache. We need some challenge. We need some failures. We need some bad dates. Some bad relationships. We need some lousy friends. We need some awful teachers. We need them.

To learn. To grow. To feel. And most of all, to appreciate the good ones.

And no amount of sound advice can stop us from falling. From failing.

And eventually rising. Eventually.

Dearest friend,
Thank you for showing me light.

08 November 2007

2007-11-08T19:45:00.000Z

I could sense the fear, the anxiety, the past sleepless nights, the foodless days, the restlessness, the hopelessness, the doubts, the incapacitation, the turmoil, the negativity all come together and just disappear while I just sat there in anticipation, with a quiet nervousness, my thoughts were fidgety but my body looked calm, my heart was racing but my face masked the fear. I wanted to get through it quickly. And I wanted to be good so badly. (I have always wondered why we say we want something so badly. Don't we mean we want it very goodly. Ok now I am just rambling)Anyway!

Then I skimmed through the words. They looked a little hazy then grew into focus like a camera lens sizing up its subject, panning into the eyes and then the face and its features. I leaned forward to show I am interested and to emphasise my presence. One deep breath.

I read with all I had. And three times after that.

She said she loved it. She said I am a natural. She said I had camera presence. She said it was fantastic. She said it was really really good.

I smiled. Blushed. Clapped. Giggled. Lapped the praises up. Stored it into my tiny brain. I was a little child again. Soaking in the genuine compliments and praise and encouragement.

This will be my refuge during the difficult days that lie ahead. This will be my happy bubble. The day I was saved right back.

She said I need to pause some more. She said I should slow down a little. I nodded in agreement.

Words were beyond me for many many moments after.

My first piece to camera.

I want to be an anchor woman!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Filling the Corfe

2007-11-08T01:46:00.000Z

This was the first assignment that I did on my course. The brief was to a write news report on the history of a building or a place on my patch (neighbourhood area). I live in a University hall of residence called Corfe house. And I wrote about Corfe castle which is totally not on my patch but quite a distance away. But I used the same name connection and wrote my story. My teacher said it was a bit contrived but he smiled and seemed pleased. I think he quite liked my idea. He said he liked the report otherwise. YAY!!!

Well what can I say, full points to cheekiness and forced connections. :)

VEENA ZACHARIAS

Filling the Corfe

An investigation into the newly built halls of residence in Poole led to the discovery of the building being named after Corfe Castle. Corfe Castle is located in a gap in the Purbeck hills between Wareham and Swanage and has been a witness to a 1000 years of British History.

Corfe Castle has survived the English Civil War, functioned as a military garrison, a royal residence and a family home. It derives its name from a Saxon word for gap.
Rachel, 17, said that Corfe Castle was mainly used for military defence, serving as a vantage point to watch the sea and warn the military, well in time, of the approaching invaders.

Corfe was a royal castle in William the Conqueror’s time but it was Henry I who built ‘The Keep’ which served as the last line of defence and was the ceremonial centre of the castle. King John built ‘The Gloriette’ which were a range of residential buildings and included King John’s Hall and Presence Chamber with a three storeyed porch.

In 1572, Queen Elizabeth sold the estate to Sir Christopher Hatton and in 1635 it passed to the Lord Chief Justice, Sir John Bankes. The Parliamentarian engineers were ordered to destroy it in 1646, after the Royalist garrison had surrendered following a lengthy seige. Ownership remained with the Bankes family until 1982. It was then bequeathed to the National Trust.

Andrew Preston, a resident of Dorchester, said that Enid Blyton, the well known children’s author had spent time in the area and that some of the castles in her adventure stories were based on Corfe Castle.

Currently, the National Trust has undertaken a major conservation programme to restore the Corfe Castle and make it safe for public access as the masonry of the Castle had begun to crumble due to the recent warm, wet winters.
The National Trust is planning to launch a campaign to raise the £5,00,000 needed to fund the restoration.

ENDS

Blank.

2007-11-05T23:17:00.001Z

Just drawing a blank. That's all

Big girls don't cry

2007-11-02T00:30:00.000Z

I'd lovely to say that Fergie has literally stolen my thoughts. But I just couldn't have said it so well.
I Hope you like it as much as I do.

Da Da Da Da
The smell of your skin lingers on me now
Your probably on your flight back to your home town
I need some shelter of my own protection baby
To be with myself instead of calamity
Peace, Serenity

I hope you know, I hope you know
That this has nothing to do with you
It's personal, Myself and I
We've got some straightenin' out to do
And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket
But Ive got to get a move on with my life
Its time to be a big girl now
And big girls don't cry
Don't cry
Don't cry
Don't cry

The path that I'm walking
I must go alone
I must take the baby steps until I'm full grown
Fairytales don't always have a happy ending, do they
And I foresee the dark ahead if I stay

I hope you know, I hope you know
That this has nothing to do with you
It's personal, Myself and I
We've got some straightenin' out to do
And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket
But I've got to get a move on with my life
Its time to be a big girl now
And big girls don't cry

Like the little school mate in the school yard
We'll play jacks and uno cards
Ill be your best friend and you'll be mine
Valentine
Yes you can hold my hand if u want to
Cause I want to hold yours too
Well be playmates and lovers and share our secret worlds
But its time for me to go home
Its getting late, dark outside
I need to be with myself instead of calamity
Peace, Serenity

I hope you know, I hope you know
That this has nothing to do with you
It's personal, Myself and I
We've got some straightenin' out to do
And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket
But I've got to get a move on with my life
Its time to be a big girl now
And big girls don't cry
Don't cry
Don't cry
Don't cry

La Da Da Da Da Da

Birthday girl

2007-10-28T22:58:00.000Z

For the girl who reminds me of me.
For the beauty.
More on the inside. (the outside is obvious)
For the child.
For the hard worker.
For the expressive writer.
For the dreamer.
For the optimist.
For the lost.
For a better future.
For togetherness.

For the inherent talent.
For the outward exuberance.
For keeping the faith.

To that lovely girl.....

Happy Birthday

I did it!!!!

2007-10-28T22:32:00.000Z

Yes finally!!
Looked up the internet.
Read a map. My directionally challenged brain blinked.

Asked for directions from
a security guard,
a bus driver,
a taxi driver,
a man smoking outside a bar,
a waitress inside the bar,
a customer inside the bar,
a couple up the street,
sat in their car, complete strangers, but good people

Five minutes later....

I was there. Entered. It had already begun.

Looked around. It was new to me. Yet familiar.

Sat there. Listening a little. Drifting a little. Keeping the Sabbath holy. Perfecting the Sunday. Performing my duty. Meeting my Friend. Talking. Asking. Praying. Believing.

Was good to be back. Where I belong.

'English' deconstructed

2007-10-28T22:02:00.000Z

I've been in the UK for a little over a month now and I've been soaking in the similarities and differences, understanding and appreciating my own culture and theirs. But this is on a lighter note. My tribute to a beautiful country. Two beautiful countries. The one I come from and the one I have come to.

You alright? = How's it going?/ Sup?/Hello - It doesn't really require a response. If you mistake it for an actual question and decide to answer it in your usual verbose way, you'd be the only one left standing there.

That's a good shout = It's a brilliant idea

Wanker/ Tosser = person who masturbates (they have a tremendous vocabulary for the same thing and it keeps coming up in conversations)

I'm rubbish at it = No talent for it (I really love the way they say it so innocently and it's just such sweet and polite English)

To waffle= Beating around the bush. I shall explain with an example. Say you need to write a 3500 word essay and you really have only 200 words to say it all. Then you add scores of meaningless, useless words, saying the same thing over and over in different ways and you somehow reach the 3500 word limit. And Bingo! You have 'waffled'!!!

'Dodgy'= Unreliable/ unsafe. My news story is a bit dodgy. What they mean is that the subject in reference is not of very good standard, is poor in quality. (They take political correctness very very seriously out here)

Blimey!!!! = Bloody hell (an interjection) It sounds so much better than the typical 'F**k'

And how could I ever leave out....

Cheers = Thanks. The prominent drinking culture here has made this word drift out of pubs and bars into everyday conversation I suppose.

I can't seem to remember all the words or phrases they use. They are all ever so sweet. I shall keep adding to this list. It's so much fun.

I feel like this child in a strange, foreign but magnificent world.

Am I Alice? And this my Wonderland?

I am glad I am here.

Some some

2007-10-27T03:05:00.000Z

Some things just can't be expressed. Only experienced.

Apart from killing time, TV can make you see what you didn't before.
Apart from enjoying great company, a party can make you appreciate the music back home.
Apart from just being nice, some people can just genuinely always always be there.

Sometimes, a mail is all you need.
Sometimes, a discussion on ethics and morals and faith makes you appreciate your upbringing.
Sometimes, a walk back home, in the cold weather, can be the warmest experience in the world.
Sometimes, you just want to bless that budding romance. She said, 'They'd make such beautiful babies.'
Sometimes, you just have to cheer for the Corfe football team and be so thrilled when they win.
Sometimes, you appreciate a performer, an entertainer, an illusionist.
Sometimes, you just love that phone call.
Sometimes, a missed call that got picked up and cost you a fortune is the most beautiful moment of the day.
Sometimes, only liquid food is good.
Sometimes, its nice to be emotional, to be protective, to be supportive, to be nervous, to be a little sad, to miss being teased and tickled, to be a little possessive, to ask a lot of questions, to get jealous, to have the feeling of belonging, of longing as well.

You wish for, 'World Hold On'. You get, 'Sweet child of mine'. And you realise, it means something. He is trying to tell you something. And when it hits you, a day later, you bite your lip in glee.

But most of all, its nicest to be happy. And to find yourself again.

To my parents, to Tobby, the bestest brother in the world, to Lenny, the best friend, to Hemant, the quintessential nice guy, to Tiger, the most devoted friend. To Andrew. Words just can't express it. And to Naveen, I miss our bike rides........
Life is wonderful and so much easier thanks to each of you.

To me, without whom this would not be possible.....

It's true!

Liberation

2007-10-27T03:04:00.001Z

Beads

2007-10-25T00:41:00.000Z

Waking up in the middle of the night. A restless continuing night. Its quiet. Serene. Your alone. Just you and your thoughts. Then you do the most unlikely thing.

You take it in your hands. With shaking hands you hold it and look at it with fearful respect.

But it is not to be feared. Is often neglected though.

One bead at a time. And with every bead calm returns.

So does hope. So does knowledge of the truth. The strength to accept it.

And once again, He has pulled me through.

It's time I started using my obvious advantage.

Keep in mind

2007-10-25T00:36:00.000Z

Never say never.

Also never say forever and forever.

And never again.

And I promise with all I have. Hmmmm that ain't much consolation coming from... well, you!

And ooooooo ooooo oooooo be ever so careful with those three magical words.

Someone might just think you actually meant it.

Now, you wouldn't want that, would you?

Goodbye Buzzworks

2007-10-25T00:27:00.000Z

Dear Team Loyalty,

Ok This is more diffcult than I had imagined this to be. But what needs to be done must be done and what needs to be said must be said. So yes, I leave Buzzworks today i.e on the 1^st of September, 2007.

I have been here for a little over a year. And each one of you has helped me grow out of my fresh out of college (read silly, childish and self absorbed) mode into a slightly more mature person. Atleast that is what I would like to believe. J

Anyway, I shall always look back at this one year as a brilliant roller coaster ride with all the highs at Buzzworks thanks to all the amazing friends I made here.

Lenny, the spectacular Boss and friend and confidante and guide and local guardian. Hemanth, the laidback (read lazy), calm, strong, supportive, sturdy and ever reliable friend. Sam, the typical comedy king and truly good guy and protector. Naveen, the quiet but ever present support and loyal friend. Anish, the design guru and party animal and Ladies’ man. Roshan and team and their mutual unfailing support to each other. Mohan’s fall in front of the office. Pradeep and his child bearing hips and his pink p****. Poornima and her brilliant resourcefulness. Vighnaraj and his PJs. Sandesh and his weird language. Kiran and his porki dance.

Preeti and her fresher party ramblings and her ‘give me work’ cries. Reynah’s unending talks and her motherly tenderness for Chaitra and Babushka. Babushka’s unique way of calling Reynah which sounded just like Veena to me. Chaitra’s giggles and attitude. The girl has truckloads of it. Me likey!!! Roar! Come to Mumma baby... :)

Romal’s unfailing memory and to die for imitations of all the music that ever played in Doordarshan serials. Thyagraj and his eveteasing. Shivagami and her madness at the Chennai offsite.

I will never forget any of these and so many other beautiful, wonderful, bittersweet incidents, events, words, actions, parties, trips. Etc. I will miss each and every one of you much more than you can imagine.

But if any of you take this as a goodbye I will personally come down and belt you in my typical violent style. Just because I won’t be in Buzzworks don’t assume that I am out of your lives.

Once again guys, thanks so much for everything, for giving me so much, for being so amazing and for being the best company and colleagues I could ever find. I really have only the deepest fondness and respect for you guys. Honestly.

Think of me once in a while and be good. God bless you all.

She

2007-10-21T19:20:00.000Z

She has a will of her own.
The worst timing.
Absolutely no self-restraint.
She is stubborn.
She seeks comfort, attention, consolation, closeness, care, concern, reassurance, love.
She wants to be understood.
She wants to be forgiven.
She wants to forgive.
She is petty.
She is fickle.
She is irrational.
She is difficult.
She wants to be held close.
She wants to hold on. She wants to be happy.

She is a silent tear.

Beatitude

2007-10-21T19:11:00.000Z

Happy are those who learn from their mistakes.
Happy are those who can just shut things out.
Happy are those who can control themselves.
Happy are those who are practical and mature.
Happy are those who can't see their own flaws but can pass judgement on others.
Happy are those who don't make mistakes.
Happier are those who do not care about the mistakes they made.
Happier are those who aren't bothered about hurting others.
Happier are those who have no guilt, feel no guilt, who have not a grappling, crippling, stifling desire to make things right, to undo the wrongs, to remove all pain and grief and unhappiness and misery and sorrow.

Happiest are those who simply don't care.

Journalism

2007-10-09T23:17:00.000Z

Journalism is about being a mirror to society. About merely retelling, letting it be known, about being the watchdog for the people. As my teacher says it is about writing in the interest and of the interest of the people.

And herein lies a great responsibility. As a reporter, one can't jump to conclusions. First hand witness accounts, documentary evidence must be corroborated. Facts must be checked and rechecked. There have to be multiple, reliable, credible sources. The news needs to be fair and unbiased and balanced. Therefore a thorough investigation is mandatory.

Allegations must be very carefully made. Backed up by irrefutable evidence.

No knee-jerk reactions.

Cause such reports can have dire consequences. The impact of the news must be borne in mind. Always. Every single time.

It is the responsibility of the journalist.

P.S- I must bear this in mind.

Pursuit of Happiness

2007-10-03T08:25:00.000Z

Apart from being a brilliant brilliant movie, I think it is really what we are all made for. It is a fundamental right. Not because the government says so. But as human beings, being a species that can think, feel and emote we are entitled to the pursuit of happiness.

Each of us deserves to pursue happiness. Whether we can catch it or not is a different question altogether. It depends on cicumstances, our attitude, personality, so many many many complicated yet simple, apparent yet elusive, easy yet difficult, voluntary yet uncontrollable and seemingly insignificant yet vital decisions, actions, thoughts, people, events and also a bit of fate, really.

And so, if one feels that a particular pursuit is going nowhere, and is basically leading to quite the opposite of what one had bargained for, then one has every right to change direction and take up another pursuit. Cause end of the day, one should move forward and not backwards.

So Calvin, I wish you all the very best and I hope you are happy always. You deserve to be.

I know I do too.

Smile

2007-10-02T21:03:00.000Z

I have so many things to smile about. First of all the timely escape. This new beginning. This new companionship. This new friendship. This new amazingness. This new positive life change.

The new support system. That was there all along. Waiting for just five minutes. And really that is all it took. The five minutes. Precious time was wasted in needless pursuits and meaningless trifles.

While there it was. So very obvious. And yet not quite.

But most of all I have to smile for the greatest gift of all.

Another chance. :)

Ya right

2007-10-02T20:57:00.000Z

For those who think I'd never do that. For those who think they are up on this pedestal. A pedestal of principle. Above others. Better than the mortals. Who think their principles are what make them and that they will never ever compromise their principles for anything.

Think again.

You have already.

Remember there are two kinds of sins. Commission and Omission.

So just think again

Goodbye

2007-10-02T20:51:00.000Z

to
the lies
the false promises
the fake principles
the false love
the fake sister
the suffocation
the confinement
the betrayal
the guilt
the memories of the lie, the deception, the oppression
the mind numbing, gut wrenching, paralysing pain and suffering that comes with the discovery of the truth.

The bitter truth.

He lied. So did she.

I have let it go.

Fighting. Fighting. Fighting.

2007-08-29T10:11:00.000Z

Fighting. Fighting. There I killed that one. Another crops up. I beat that. Another one crops up. I am fighting. I am giving in. I am fighting.

Its hard when I keep changing my mind. Fight it. Beat it. Be with it. Flaunt it. Every single time I am sinking deeper in the quagmire that is my life.

All who try to come and help either get soaked in the dirt and are damaged for life. Or just lift their hands in despair and wash themselves clean of the mess. Who can blame them. I certainly don't. It's best that atleast they can save themselves. Scarred. But time will heal them. Hopefully.

And I am just sinking deeper. Deeper still.

Well, right now I think I will fight. Fight till I beat it. But they don't seem to wait for me to rest, recover, rejuvenate, revive and resist.

They just keep Multiplying. Compounding. Growing. Increasing. And there seems to be no end to them.

Darn flaws.

A little prayer

2007-08-29T09:47:00.001Z

I'm done searching. I'm done with trial and error. I have finally resigned to my ineptitude. Sometimes the choice was wrong, sometimes the timing, sometimes both. Sometimes the motive was wrong, sometimes the mindset, sometimes both. Sometimes I was wrong. Alright, since it's you Lord, I admit most times I was wrong. Well, I've had just about enough.

Now, I leave it upto You, Lord. I entrust it into Your able hands, Lord. In the meanwhile make me worthy, Lord. Give me back my innocence, my faith and my goodness. Help me to prepare for that Time. To be ready when IT finally comes.

And wherever that individual maybe, please ensure that all is well and all goes well until the Right Time comes.

Do accept my humble prayer, and from this moment on, may this prayer fall on your ears every single moment of every single day and every single night.

Words

2007-08-10T08:55:00.000Z

I am suddenly overcome with so much to say, so much to confess and confide, and to make right.
But words are empty. Words are hollow. Words are meaningless.

Words are nothing.

If only

2007-08-10T08:27:00.000Z

It is so hard to live with yourself, knowing all the things you have done, knowing all the people you have hurt, cheated, ridiculed, chastised, ignored, insulted, offended, crushed.

But the worst of all, is the damage that you have done to yourself. Cause no matter what there is no going back and reliving or undoing what has been wrought.

If only!

If only, if only was possible.

Credibility

2007-08-10T07:07:00.001Z

Ever heard of 'the boy who cried wolf wolf' story? Well, what else did he expect that all his life people would just coming in to rescue him from the non existent tiger at the expense of their work, life, priorities and greater responsibilities just so that he could have a few laughs and bring some excitement into his dull life.
In much the same way some of us lead our entire life with the complacent assurance that there will always be someone to accept us as we are, take our shit, provide for us or support us, love us, adore us, strengthen us, fulfil our every need, pander to our wishes and simply love us for being us!
And so we push and keep pushing them until their breaking point with our incorrigible behaviour, inexcusable selfishness, irascible temperament, maddeningly rebellious and destructive actions and words. And we just keep expecting them to live with it and love us for it.
'This is the way I am. This is me. Take it or leave it.' O ya, glorious Queen of Sheeba, rather Queen Elizabeth. the wonderful. The whole world was designed only to make your life more comfortable, smooth, mellifluous and luxurious.
Hey I am using big words cause how can I use some common, lowlife English for people as splendid and grand as us!!!

And so we go on. We push them over the brink but they, out of their most deepest, most difficult (to bring forth for us) and nicest of nicest niceness in them, still forgive and give us another chance. And then another. And yet another. Yet another.

Until they reach a point where all they are left withs a feeling of indifference, a numbness, a fit of desolation. And they just let go forever. You have killed the goodness in them, sapped it. So much that they can find no more. It will take years for regeneration. If that is even possible.

And all you can do is take your sorry self, your evil shadow away from them as quickly as you can and as far away as you can.

God bless their soul.

You think that you could maybe make it right this time. You would never hurt them again. But how can anyone ever trust you, with your track record?

Can you trust yourself even? It's best this way. Just get out of their way and their life. That's the best thing you could do for them.

Wish

2007-08-07T13:02:00.000Z

Its ridiculously funny when one so wishes for something to happen. We concentrate all our energies toward willing it to happen. Focus every effort, every muscle in our control on just that. Much like how as kids we'd sit on the potty and grunt away, pressing our stomachs and contracting all muscles, huddled over until we go red in the face and the exhilaration that we felt added to the relief on the positive outcome (Here the stinking output!!!)

Well, we continue to do this for the rest of our lives. And not just on the throne. In every aspect of our lives. For everything that we oh soo passionately desire and feel we deserve or know we don't deserve yet continue to want or pine for.

Caught in these moments one is driven to madness by that obsession, that wild, mad raging, absolutely unignorable need to have that wish fulfilled.

It may be as simple as a 'certain someone' sending you a message, or one call, or that one loving glance, or the urge to hear the sound of those reassuring footsteps, or that loving hand placed on your shoulders from behind at a most unsuspecting time (Of course at this time it won't be unsuspecting. Nevertheless.)

But as we grow up the degree to which we want something is directly proportionate to its unavailability or inaccessability and impossibility. But that doesn't stop us from wanting it to happen, willing it to happen, wishing it to happen........

Trial

2007-08-06T05:21:00.000Z

Have you ever hurt anyone?:
Guilty. Lost count and most times didn't even realise I had.

Have you ever let down your parents?:
Guilty as ever. I am sure my mom remembers the score. Thats only of the stuff they have found out.

Broken someone's heart?:
Guilty. (This is not going well at all)

Lived a life of selfishness and blatant disregard to others as long as you are getting your way?: Guilty.

Been a true friend:
Honestly. Never at the expense of myself or my convenience or happiness.

Preached but not practised:
Guilty. I am a specialist at that.

Sought consolation and reassurance every time things start to unravel or are not going exactly how you want them to:
Guilty. Every single time. Have not missed even one opportunity to do so.

All the evidence and witness merely corroborates what has been long established as a truth that you have lead a life devoted to self gratification and have been a menace to most people in general. You have been warned kindly and strictly many times over before but you have chosen to ignore the same.
So we are forced to declare that you shall live a life of solitary confinement, as we have judged that to live with yourself would be the most fitting and the most torturous punishment for you.

But we would also like to add that you will be under the observation of the Almighty and the punishment shall be reduced or even pardoned if your behaviour stands testimony to a postive reformation in you.

We wish you good luck.

Lenny

2007-08-06T04:06:00.000Z

I know this person. His name is Leonard A Kulangara. I know him for one year now and I think his name doesn't suit him at all.
He should be called Leonard the Giver. I have never met a mann who can give as much as Lenny can and as happily as Lenny can and as abundantly as Lenny can. I maybe repeating myself but this is for added emphasis.
Lenny=Genuine=Generous=Loving=Selfless=Accommodating=Amazing!

Lenny is all the things I am not. He is so kind and generous and he gets along so well with everybody. He may have been my Boss for one year but he has never taken advantage of his position. He has no hang ups with people. He is everyone's best friend and genuinely cares for everyone. And everybody is so important to him. He always says he draws his strength and enthusiam from each of his best friends at work. And that is each and everyone at work.
And Lenny gives and gives and gives and gives to each of us.

I didn't think it is possible for a person to really like and really care for so many people but somehow Lenny can. And really can.

I am a difficult difficult person. Headstrong. Foolish. Stubborn. Seld Centred and Selfish. But Lenny has put up with everything and has never made me feel like he has put up with it.

He has come to my rescue in the middle of the night on the eve of Christmas eve and hunted for tailors for me. He has lent a listening ear to my sobbing and foolish rants. He has supported me at work. Given me responsibilities and credit for things I have done well. He has gone way out of his way to make my experience at Buzzworks a wonderful one. He has taken so much trouble, been such an amazing local guardian, father, brother, friend, guide, fashion advisor, hairdresser, make up artist and so much more. Without ever making me feel like I am obliged to him.

In today's times whoever does that? All of us expect much more than we even think of giving. Ours is a conditional love, affection or whatever else. But not Lenny.

Not too many people do so much for you without an ulterior motive or simply out of the goodness of their hearts. But Lenny does and he has done so much in just one year (that I have known him).

And the greatest thing is that he has done the same for every single person in Buzzworks Loyalty. Every single one of us.

Lenny, I hope someday I can do something to show you what a difference you have made in my life and how lucky I have been to know you and to have been a recipient of your goodness.

Good intentions

2007-08-03T07:17:00.000Z

Why is man so incredibly foolish and stupid?

No. I just can't seem to understand. You know smoking is bad for you. You know it does you no good. But does that stop you from bringing the poison to your lips and inhaling hell's vapours? Oh no no.

You know you two are a combination that spells disaster. People warn you. He is a playboy. He isn't good enough for you. Your his 12th or 15th or 50th girlfriend. He is afraid of commitment. No No. He genuinely feels for me. This time he is in this a whole 200%. One and a half year later, there you are. A good part of you is dead. Lost forever. You feel cheated and miserable and angry and vengeful.

You dive into a life of self mortification. Destroying every fibre in you that you were proud of in the past. You become exactly what you hated most.

And then you meet someone else. With a similar past, maybe worse and you decide we can nurture each other into our old good selves. You get into it for the wrong reasons, with the right intentions but with zero patience and you want everything to just work itself out. FAT CHANCE that will ever happen.

And then, the inevitable happens. It ends. And all you keep thinking about is who's fault it was.

Does it matter?

5th of July, 2007

2007-07-05T05:09:00.000Z

Isn't it absolutely wonderful, when you wake up one morning and you know for sure you are goint to get into deep shit cause of some stupid, irresponsible behaviour of yours, which has inconvenienced many, but somehow you miss the wrath of that daunting authority because he/she happens to be absent! Of course, when I say wonderful I am referring to the fact that you escaped and not to the fact that you messed up.
And you thank the Lord for small mercies. Or the big mercies that have been showered upon you. You feel lucky.
Well, I am so used to blaming my luck and my unfortunate life, sometimes I refer to it as my sorry existence. Or I rave and rant about the constant unfavourable alignment of my stars or whatever else that when something like this happens to me I am dumbfounded and at a loss for words. (RARELY HAPPENS! I am the quintessential chatterbox you know)
But the cherry topping on your wonderfully yummy pastry is when you open your mail box first thing in the morning and you see, "Veena, I am pleased to inform you that you have been awarded the Reham-Al-Farra scholarship......"
And you just know this day was especially made for you. The Lord, in his goodness and kindness and his fabulousness has set this day aside to make you feel especially blessed. He has planned every minute detail and this day, the 5th of July, 2007 is yours!
And you find yourself just smiling away like an idiot and every minute you hear yourself say, YAY!!!

And you picture God looking down upon you from his lofty pedestal in the benign skies (everything appears so beautiful, you could probably kiss the next person in sight! I sincerely hope I don't.) I seem to be drifting.
As I was saying, you picture God looking down upon you from his lofty pedestal in the benign skies smiling his fatherly, indulgent smile, a beautiful, loving expression on His face and he says to Himself, "If only you could understand how much I love you".

A tiny tear surfaces in His eye.

Vicious, vicious, vicious, vicious circle!!!

2007-05-02T08:33:00.000Z

It's painful when what you say or do, your mood, your temper affects, influences, determines, even defines someone else's. I hate having such a significant influence on another person. OK I admit it's a little flattering but it is also a terribly demanding, painful, annoying, exasperating responsibility.
So many times I've caught myself wondering, wishing, pondering, struggling with myself. I keep thinking why am I putting some innocent, depressed, vulnerable, adorable souls through so much torture.
I try to break free. That somehow is impossible. Rather, I don't know how. Then I try to be really kind and accommodating and sweet but tha only seems to make it more difficult for them. Then I go back to being the selfish, stupid, foul tempered, demanding person that I really am and they almost kill themselves. Then I'm back to feeling guilty.

Vicious, vicious, vicious, vicious circle!!!

Personal Space

2007-03-01T12:45:00.000Z

I'm Oliver. I want More.
That's who I am. And that's how I am.

At first, this space was just a writing board. Anything and everything that crossed my mind would figure here. Events in my life served as writing material. And people became characters.

Once the excitement died, it became more personal. More me.

And then I got caught up in life and lost touch. My reasoning was 'I only write when I am overwhelmed and nothing overwhelming is happening right now'.

I had thoughts to pen, feelings to express, experiences to share, and incidents to write about so that I can have them in a space that is mine. And not merely left to the mercy and efficiency of my ever deteriorating memory!

But I didn't. Sheer laziness? Or was it fear that there is too much of me here?

I don't know.

What I do know is that this space is mine. And it delights me.

This is my personal space!

huh?

2007-02-06T09:39:00.000Z

I just don't recognise myself sometimes. I have lived all my life with a certain opinion about myself and time and again I keep surprising myself.
I always try to justify the things I have done. I keep saying to myself that I am not so bad. There are people who have done worse things. And gotten away with it.
And then one day it just hits you in your face. You think that people like you. You think that you have friends. And that you are basically a good person. Deep down. Very deep down. But you are. Good, that is.
And when you are enjoying your reverie, someone comes along and shatters every misconception, your folly is exposed. That someone shatters the very foundations of all your beliefs, opinions, principles, everything. Every damn thing.
It hits you like the Tsunami and in a fraction of a moment, all is destroyed. You just stand there.

Naked and ashamed.

Happiness

2006-10-31T08:07:00.000Z

As fleeting and transient happiness is we keep chasing after her. (Yes I think happiness is a woman)
She is like a flirtatious beauty who revels in the constant and incessant attentions of her suitors. She is irresistible. She is quick on her feet and easy on the eyes.

And when we reach out to grab her, hold her, make her our own she just slips away....... Then she turns around and gives you this triumphant smile.

Sometimes she spends a little longer with you but it is guaranteed that she will leave.

Faithful to none.... Possessed by none..... She loves making her suitors pine for her and miserable without her.

Her greatest pleasure is to see us in agony

Well that's my theory.

Random musings

2006-10-31T07:54:00.000Z

A troubled mind finds no rest........ It's true I can testify to that. No matter what you do, whatever distractions you opt for it just doesn't work.

There you are sitting in your little corner, miserable over nothing ( you realise that in hindsight apparently). You try to shake it off. Splurge on ice cream and chocolates, seek the company of friends, go ahead and do something really stupid and regrettable. But it changes nothing.

Only makes it worse.

Hey how do I just wait here and repeat to myself, 'This too shall pass'

Can't it pass a little faster?

Time will heal. (I sincerely hope so)

2006-10-25T04:47:00.000Z

It's been a while now. Things have changed. Circumstances. Addresses. Friends. Confidantes.
I feel like I have a new lease on life. A second chance. A new beginning.

And yet you are not a part of it. And you probably never will. It's hard. Staying away. Living without you. But I must.

Because life goes on.

Selfish interests????

2006-10-02T06:35:00.000Z

I hate change. I like the things the way they are. So long as they are the way I want them to be. But they are never so. So i want things to change. But let this be noted I hate change.

Have I gone insane? Or was I always insane. I think I am going into those moods again. But really if you think about it I would probably make sense. Ifyou care to listen that is. And pay some attention.

I was accused of writing to please. Of trying hard to write. Well, I just write when I am too overwhelmed or when I have an impulse to. Sometimes, ok maybe most times it's crap, (I personally wouldn't like to call it so..... mediocre... I think we could go with mediocre). But I like it.

And yes I like it when people say they liked my post or liked a phrase I coined. It's nice. I am writing to be read. But more so I am writing for myself. Because I like it. I enjoy it.

Is there anything wrong with that?

"I wanna paint"

2006-10-01T14:49:00.000Z

The magic that a brush can wield is just amazing. Lifelike scenes, the breathtaking portrayal of every human emotion. Every muscle that expands or constricts. It captures everything.
Just one look at the picture makes such a deep impact. One can identify the mood, imagine the situation, spin a story around the picture, do so many magical things. One can let oneself be sucked into a Wonderland. Get lost in that frozen moment.
A moment gone by is saved for a long long long time by the magical brush in the hands of a gifted artist. Till nature, of course, wields her destructive wand. Nothing lasts forever right.

And so you return from Wonderland. You withdraw from that picture and you say,"I wanna paint".

I want my Innocence back!

2006-10-01T11:50:00.000Z

That's right. I want it back. I wasn't ready when you took it away. You didn't give me the time to think of the consequences. You were like the devil in Bedazzled. Promised me wonderful things, showed me the wildest sights and you told me that all I see could be mine. All I want. In the measure I want.

You lied.

And now I am miserable. I wish I had never met you. Never set sight on you. You were my death knell.
It is all flashing before me. The intoxication. The joyride. Self destruction. My uncertain, unsteady steps along your path.

Here I am now, broken, bruised, vulnerable, miserable.
Give me back those days when just going to the zoo was like the coolest thing ever and the trip made me the happiest kid on earth. Those uncomplicated, carefree, wonderful, beautiful days. Give me back me minus all the bad memories, the terrible mistakes, the foolish decisions and the ugly people.
Just give me back my innocence. Please.

Confessions

2006-09-17T11:40:00.000Z

I wouldn't really call them confessions. More like confiding in someone. You tell them about your life, your secret affairs, you reveal that part of you which is safely hidden away from the world.

While narrating the memories, some forbidden, some bittersweet, some painful you relive them, recount them, experience them again and you are surprised to find that those memories matter. Slowly you peel off every layer and you show forth yourself to this person. At times, you yourself cannot recognise this person that emerges through the narration of your experiences.

And then you realise that you cease to be acquaintances. You are friends now.

Thank you for confiding in me. Friend.

Oral fixation

2006-09-03T07:38:00.000Z

I love Shakira. I think she is gorgeous. Oozes sex appeal and is a great dancer, not to mention a talented singer as well and yet inspite of all this she seems to be highly affected or shall I say disturbed by a particular attribute of hers.
She has been obsessing over it in so many of her songs. "My breasts are small and humble so you don't confuse them with mountains". Also "Next to her cheap Silicone I look minimal. That's why in your eyes I am invisible".
Is she pointing it out herself so that she does not feel humiliated when someone else does or is she trying to make a statement. "Hey! I don't care. I am tiny. Big deal". But the very fact that she mentions it over and over means she cares. A lot.
Why do we waste our time trying to please men? Or get their attention, affection, devotion? End of the day do they really make us feel good? Or loved, wanted, beautiful, precious, anything positive at all? And if they do, for how long? Do we somehow always end up feeling shortchanged?
We are troubled, anxious, conscious of each and every flaw in ourselves. Be it physical, emotional, anything. Why do we constantly flog ourselves over them?
One thing I like about men is that they come to terms with their flaws. Actually love themselves for their flaws. Flaunt them. They are proud of them. They even hone them. They make them sharper, crueller, more hurtful.
And hell we love them for that. That is what draws us to them. The BAD BOY! Just like iron nails are drawn to a magnet. There is nothing the nails can do to resist the pull. The only choice is to give in, let go and to be drawn.
Point is men are just as confused and disillusioned and vulnerable as we are. They just don't kill themselves for being so.
Your flaws are what make you you. Each of your quirks, your idiosyncrasies define you. Make you stand apart, make you different from the sea of humanity inhabiting the earth. Change the things you can if they bother you or others too much. But essentially be yourself.

So all you Shakiras don't waste your time mulling over some unchangeable, inconsequential, pointless, meaningless, unimportant flaws of your own and stop trying to become another person in order to please the current man in your life. Instead indulge yourself, take pride in yourself, be your own biggest fan and you'll realise that you don't need a man to make you feel wonderful

Disappeared?

2006-09-02T16:46:00.000Z

I have been meaning to write for quite a few days now. Quite a few thoughts entered my mind and well, each of them left when they didn't get their deserved attention! As always time didn't stop. So many days have gone by and I haven't written anything.
Suddenly, a feeling of dread has gripped me
What if I lose the ability to write?
There are a few things that are very important to me.
One of them being being able to write whatever's on my mind. My dreams, my fancies, my stories, the wanderings of my mind, the people I come across, the people I create. I want to write about it all.
And what if some day I can't? Panic!

Idle mind devil's workshop??

2006-08-12T16:49:00.000Z

That's how the wise men put it. All my writing skills seem to come into action only during absolutely jobless times. I withdraw into a little corner of my mind, shut myself out to the others, to the painful world, to strained relations, to heartache, activities, duties, responsibilities and just unwind in my personal space.
When my mind is at rest or is struggling to hold onto something good and positive I let my thoughts wander, wherever they please. Into forbidden lands, unchartered territories, to places my life will probably never take me.
And during these wanderings I say to myself that it will all be better someday and life has something nice in store for me. It may not happen today, may not tomorrow either but it will someday.
Then I picture myself happy and I see in my mind's eye that all is well.

But my greatest fear is that a day will come when I am too busy to be there for myself. What will happen then?

Blank

2006-08-09T04:25:00.000Z

Sometimes one just sits there staring at the wall (here the computer) waiting for this spark, this inspiration or a divine revelation, or a stroke of creative genius but all one draws is a blank.
And it takes superhuman strength to not succumb to the feeling of lethargy and unproductiveness.
All I can think of to motivate me is 'How dull it is to rust unburnished, not in use'

But then again I'm no Ulysses

Firsts..........

2006-08-05T15:50:00.000Z

What is it that's so magical about firsts? Your first paycheck, the first kiss, first bike, first love, all firsts. They make you smile, make your hair stand on end, make you feel like you are at the right place, at the right time. (I don't know about you but that's something that very rarely happens to me)
It feels like the whole universe just came together and chose to make you happy. Out of the blue. You are just sitting there and boom!!!! something wonderful, unexpected, something absolutely and totally beyond words happens.
Hmmmmmm all you can do is smile. Till your face hurts.

Hey do tell me about any of your such moments.

Parents love

2006-08-04T06:08:00.000Z

Is it possible to just keep loving a person? Through all their ups and downs, changes in loyalties, in attitudes, in behaviour, in nature? Somehow parents find it in themselves to do that.
You could be a compulsive liar, a kleptomaniac, an arrogant, indignant one, you could be discovered in the middle of the night in the company of the opposite sex in your room, you could get yourself pregnant, you could be a rapist, a murderer, a "pussy whipped" (I quote a dear, silver tongued, very vociferous, articulate and cogent friend) husband, you could have a thousand affairs, you could be the worst person alive and yet they would continue to love you, to feel for you, to pray for you, to accept you, to want to reform you.
The Holy Bible says,"A man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife and the two shall become one flesh. So they are no longer two, but one flesh." Matthew Ch 19 Vs 5 and 6.
So once we're married we owe the people who conceived us, bore us, made us, nurtured us, provided us with a comfortable life and opportunities nothing. We just shake the dust off our hinds, put our arms around our life partner and walk away! To our own world, one without the interference and the nuisance and the unsolicited yet freely given guidance from parents. How come we can't tolerate their shortcomings? But they accept every flaw, every despisable, loathsome characteristic of ours. How selfish, ungrateful and cruel can we get?

The scenario is no different for unmarried ones. We want our freedom. We want to be left alone. We feel stifled and claustrophobic under the wings of our makers. We loathe them, disrespect them, disobey them, hurt them, insult them, criticise them, bad mouth them. We want to be on our own. Making our own mistakes, choices, paving our own way. Without them.

And yet they just keep on loving us.

Sometimes I wonder why do couples trade in their happiness, freedom life to devote their entire lives, every breathing moment for the care, development and well being of their own children. Only to be rejected and discarded when they require the same care and love and affection. My parents chose to have me. And to keep me. For that I am grateful.

Mommy, Papa I love you. I am sorry for letting you down in the past. I hope someday I make you proud. And you can hold your head high and say,"That's my daughter!"

Happy birthday mommy. (I know this entry is two days after your birthday) but I want to wish you all the same.
Thank you for everything. For protecting me, for nagging me endlessly (IT would be nice if we could reduce the dosage though!). For just being there. Always.

What is most amazing is knowing that I can count on you forever and no matter what I do or what I become you would still want me.

Thank you Mommy!

What are the properties of man?

2006-07-31T04:54:00.000Z

No this post is not some sorta male bashing. (Though there are quite a few who deserve that right now!) I mean properties of mankind. Remember Science class? Let's see.

Can think.
Speaks languages. (Hey maybe animals do too. Lions in the Gir probably speak differently from those in Africa)
Covers body with man made things. (Not all do that. Hi Janet Jackson, Jessica Simpson)
Invents machines in order to lessen own workload.
Wages wars.

But if you were to ask me I would say
Is self-destructive.... Look at everyone. Each of us is bent upon destroying ourselves, maybe physically through cigarettes, drugs, alcohol or an unhealthy lifestyle or by burning ourselves out through overwork, overworrying, trying too hard too please or destroying ourselves emotionally by either being the culprit or the victim, by playing dangerous mind games, by allowing significant others walk all over us or walking all over them ourselves, by being over critical of ourselves and others or by just not caring about ourselves or others. We abuse ourselves. Physically, mentally, psychologically, spiritually.
The means vary. But the result is the same.
We are driving at a 150 miles per hour on a road that ends in a deep ravine towards a sure death.
Each us wants to push our limits. We crave for excitement. To live it up. Dangerously. For some the limits are a mug of beer. For some its tattoos. Women. Men. Success. Money. Fame. Pain.

Every dam thing we do. Every choice we make we are somehow destroying ourselves. Or helping others destroy themselves.

You know what else man is? Man is both ductile and malleable.
Just like metals...
Others have taught us to walk, to talk, to write, to think (not really but kinda), have moulded us, shaped us into being the persons we are. Have you ever played with babies? It's so much fun to bend them in every possible way and see their "I am loving this" smile. But seriously, our parents, teachers, other influences have shaped us. Not one person but many people have made significant contributions to who we are.
And O boy can we withstand pressure???
Every step of our lives we have had problems, hard times, tough situations, struggles, turmoils and we live past it don't we? We have grown because of these. Grown bitter maybe, but it has made a difference.
Do you see where I am going here? And well some of us break once in a while but so do metals!
Each of us has a threshold of pain, of being able to withstand tough times even good times, to withstand bad relationships, betrayal, failure, indifference.

Beyond that we will break

Change- I resolve

2006-07-26T05:51:00.000Z

We all play the blame game all the time. It's one of my favourites. I keep attributing my woes to others.
That changes from today.
I take full responsibility for what I am, who I am and what I have done in the past.
Yes I am selfish and yes I am hurtful and arrogant and irresponsible and I have erred.
I have not been a good daughter. Far from it. I have been the cause for a lot of worry, suffering, anxiety.

I resolve to change.
Times change, people do, relationships too, so must I for the better. As difficult as that's going to be its gotta be done.

The farce that is human relations

2006-06-08T04:55:00.000Z

I've always prided myself on the fact that I speak whatever's on my mind. Noone else seems to like that particular quality of mine. Especially those who have been on the receiving end of my not so pleasant free speaking.

More importantly I hate those people who are so sweet on the surface and they're probably thinking "I wish someone would just kill her". They tell you stories of their childhood and then they tell the significant person in your life how terrible a person you are. In your absence of course.

One can cope with an enemy as long as he or she is before one. But how does one fight guerrilla warfare?

An enemy that attacks you when you are weakest. When you least expect it. And destroys what is most precious to you. Destroys that which is your strength.

And an enemy, who then in broad daylight claims to be your friend. If not friend, your well wisher.

These entangled human relations get to you. What do you do when your own blood turns against you?

Nobody is making a claim here that you are the most perfect individual that ever walked this earth. But you are most certainly not the worst.

In time, gradually one learns to recognise the farce that is human relations

Choices are mere illusions

2006-06-07T17:54:00.000Z

Choices are mere illusions. A helpless hapless individual. Somehow everyone else decides the course of your life for you. You are unmanageable, they say. We cant trust you they say. You can't look after yourself. You're not responsible enough.
You need to make a career. You need to become someone.
Do all this but don't get out of the house. Don't meet people. Stay away from fun. We would like it best if we knew for sure your miserable. Don't even think of falling in love.

You are too opinionated. Difficult to handle. To control. You have too short a fuse. Do something about that temper of yours. You make it difficult for people to love you, to trust you, to be with you.

Never mind all this. Are you not aware of the fact I will see no logic? You will have to live according to our traditions.

If I am half as bad as you make me out to be then I am a hazard to myself. Get me away from me. Tear me apart. Make me your little prized possession. That mute, lifeless doll.
Finally when you think I am ripe and ready give me off to some inebriated, chauvinistic, desperate, well oiled, well lubricated, thriving on pornography, disgusting pervert. For the rest of my miserable life I will be miserable in his arms. Or at his feet.

Teenage angst

2006-06-06T06:55:00.000Z

As a teenager: I wanna live life my way.

Parents reply with: You will do as we say

In your twenties now: I can do as I please. You can't tell me what to do anymore. I can make my choices and my mistakes myself now. And learn on my own.

Parents: O no you won't. Where did you get such an idea from? I (parents are one entity right) shall decide what you do, who you will marry and then after marriage your husband will decide what is best for you. I will decide because I know better and I have more experience. I am wise. I do not let emotions control my actions. I think ahead and, most importantly, I want the best for you.

Twenty something retorts: Don't you think it's time I learn things myself? You wish the best for me. I am aware of that. But somewhere I need to learn to survive outside this cocoon of your shelter. Your care. Your love.
I need to breathe as a seperate person.
I need to cut the umbilical cord.
Maybe I will mess things up. Maybe I will be a failure. But the mess, the failure will be mine. All mine.

Isn't my life my own?

Am I to blame?

2006-05-12T06:01:00.000Z

Enveloped in grief I am.
An awful truth I have learnt.
An innocent child I was born.
But the stars said I was a murderer.
I brought with me the death of the older one.
Was I an ill omen, an evil one, an ogbanje?

I am guilty of a crime I did not commit.
I did nothing. Yet it is my fault.

I brought it with my birth.
I write this for myself.
Cause noone else would understand.

Thank God I do not believe in the signs of the stars and prophecies of the zodiac !

And yet I ask myself......
Am I to blame?

Get off that ass!

2006-05-08T06:23:00.000Z

Time is slipping, pressure is mounting, stakes are on the upward trend, the fever is building, tension, apprehension and fear have surrounded me. And yet I ain't doing nothing.

What does it take for man (In this case woman) to get off his (her) ass and get cracking, get working and achieving.
Motivation I have. Knowledge about the benefits and the pay offs, I have that too. Calibre, well I'm quite certain that there is enough evidence of the presence, although maybe slight of that too.

I tried that scaring myself into work deal. Failed!
The carrot before the bunny trick. Nope. Nothing.
Everyone's doing it. Your the only one who isn't!!!!!
Dam I'm thick.

Well I'm at my wits end. At a loss for words, breath, anger, peak of frustration, motivation, threat.
And yet, here I am just where I started.

Time is slipping.......... I'm doomed!

Journey

2006-05-02T16:53:00.000Z

Just like a leaf that is lifted up by the wind and taken to new, unfamiliar, unfathomed places am I. For the leaf the world was the tree and the ground below and the sky above. But now it learns there's more. A lot more.
In the same way for me my world was the sweet little city I lived in. But now after having lived away I know otherwise.
People have come into my life. I have made friends, found a mentor, a teacher, a confidante, an advisor, an entertainer, a support system, a source of strength, a best friend, actually a few best friends. I have made discoveries about myself.

But the time has come for the wind to come lift me up and take me to a new world.
I am torn between my attachments and the adventure that awaits. I find it hard to let go.

But I do know that I will take them with me wherever life takes me. They will always remain close to me. As they are now a part of me!

Beautiful notes!

2006-04-30T13:34:00.000Z

I lost myself in the notes of the violinist in church today. He has a gift. He can move you. Can pierce through that hardened, much abused, distorted, mutilated, maligned, twisted, sinful, lost soul and touch the dying good in you.
At the cost of sounding cliched and being laughed at and ridiculed and belittled I must say that I felt like this little lost creature, terribly afraid and ashamed because she had been bad and had strayed away and done exactly what she had been taught not to. I felt like this clueless tiny speck who wanted to get back home but didn't know how. I was a shadow that had lost its body. I was tired and hungry and thirsty. And I thought I was going to fall when I heard those BEAUTIFUL NOTES!
They said to me, "All I ask of you is forever to remember me as loving you."
Those notes seemed to embrace me and say, "Hey! No matter what I will always love you. It wasn't for nothing that I died on that cross. It was for you."

I felt joy, I felt peace, I felt special, I felt Safe.

I'm the King of the Jungle

2006-04-30T03:24:00.000Z

After three years in Bangalore I finally went to the Banerghatta National Park. Luckily for me a friend of mine had an especially good friend who was a vet with the lion and tiger rescue centre. So, being the privileged ones we got to play with tiger cubs! The most adorable, gorgeous tiger cubs I have ever set sight on. (Not like i've seen any before, but i'm sure even if I do I'll like these more)
Once they were let out of the cage and we were safely out of the mother's reach, we threw ourselves upon the striped creatures. They whimpered and scratched and expressed their absolute displeasure and sufferance to be in the hands of man about whom mother had warned them.
The nicest half an hour ever for us and pure torture for them.
Then we saw the mighty lions and tigers, each of them looking at us warily. We saw the catwalk of a magnificent, young, beautiful, royal, vain tigress who seemed to be showing herself off to us, for us to admire and adore. We saw a lioness in heat driving the lions around her crazy. (How typical of females!) We were just mute spectators marvelling at these predators, experiencing awe, fear and a kind of reverance even though they were not in the wild and we were safe. But how do you escape those piercing eyes!
And then this lion gives out the most ferocious roar I have ever heard. Seemed to me like he was saying, "I maybe in a cage but Im still the lion around here. If you dont watch out ill bite your head off".

blue.....bitter......broken

2006-04-24T09:21:00.000Z

I searched the depths of my soul
to learn what makes me whole

In all my life I see
the moments empty, painful, lonely and a desolate me

Why can't I remember the happy days,
the smiles, the laughs and the carefree ways?

I have long stopped looking in the mirror
afraid to see what will look back at me, the terror!

I am hanging onto the very last threads
of faith, of hope, of tolerance! I am in shreds

Why this anguish, this bitterness, this despair?
Am I now, beyond repair?

Identity

2006-04-16T19:39:00.000Z

An important assignment has lately been playing on my mind. Universal birth registration. A piece of paper that tells me and the world who I am, gives me my identity.
My parents being the good citizens that they are have registered my date, place, circumstances of birth and that parchment very dutifully mentions the names of these two wonderful people who brought me into this world.
Then how come I still don't know who I am, where I belong or what i deserve!

I have before me an ocean of choices. But I am hopelessly and it seems to me irrevocably and irredeemably lost. I envy those times when you just had a couple of options to choose from. As frustrations on the job are guaranteed anyways I'd rather get it done with sooner!
The guillotine has to chop my head off. Why delay? (What a happy thought!)

So let me back back to those nagging questions.
Who am I? Where am I headed?

Things to do

2006-04-07T15:45:00.000Z

I've just got to do these!!!!!!

Win an argument against my brother
Beat up any smart alec who thinks he has free access to body (HOW DARE HE think he can touch me on the street/ public spots if he so wishes.) The nerve!!!!!!!
Write a best seller
Travel
Learn to salsa and play a musical instrument too
While we're at it I also wanna belly dance to 'whenever wherever'
Live a year in some remote, beautiful, heavenly locale tucked safely away from the sight of relatives, friends or acquaintances on my own terms doing whatI please
Shop for 24 hours non stop
Marry Johny Depp!!!!!!!!!

Imagination, desire, want

2006-04-06T19:06:00.000Z

Imagination, desire, want
A really adorable speaker mentioned these words at a seminar today and it got me thinking (on a tangent to the point that he was making, but in my case that is usually how it goes). Ahem! Getting back to my thoughts.
Do we live through our existence or exist through our life on this earth by just stretching, chasing or fulfilling our imagination, our desires and our wants? Our life force, the fuel that keeps us going in this mad rush or this acute, agonising, most times exasperating need to achieve, to get somewhere, to say something profound or do something brilliant, or memorable or commendable.
I, for sure, want to wake up every morning and have my creative juices flowing, and work towards getting all that I desire. Use my imagination to earn myself a good life, be a great daughter and a fantastic lover and in good time a super mom!
Hey we all have to have something to live for right?

Trigger

2006-04-05T17:15:00.000Z

Why is genius born from tragedy and talent honed by suffering? Be it a son falling from the 53rd floor that gives birth to Tears inHeaven. Or the memory of a critical father or one who entered the room at night with dark intentions.
Can't masterpieces be born from happiness? Not pain. Not anguish. Not substance. Not terror. Not tragedy.

Holiday!

2006-04-02T15:03:00.000Z

O god this is no write up about that ghastly movie, which goes by the same name, that’s doing the rounds these days. Some of my friends and I went on a holiday recently. We were a group that came together to make a movie. And this holiday was a celebration of its completion.

And what a holiday! Sun, beaches, amazing food, a hottie who distracted us no end and who was a treat to sore eyes and a sky that was crowded with stars. If that’s not enough for you add a couple of fire dancers, bonfires and o so adorable dolphins!!!!

It was a respite from reality. And I have brought back proof of my affair with the sun in the western sky in terms of a terrible tan!

Floating in the sea with the sun caressing you, hurting you being the harsh lover that he is and you just laying there with not a care in the world, soaking him up.

Now that’s a holiday!

Irrevocable acts of indiscretion

2006-04-02T09:56:00.000Z

When you tell someone exactly what you think of them, their haircut, their dress, their love interest, their food or their child. Or their weight.
When what’s on your mind in on your lips without any censorship.
When you let someone know how much they mean to you.
When you let a girl in on your deepest, darkest secrets and tell her to keep mum about it.
When you call an old flame (it saw a bitter end) and you say to him amidst tears, and snivelling and gasps for breath, “I didn’t know who else to call”.
When you tell a friend, his/her current is too good for him/her.
Your in a relationship and you tell the other exactly what you feel all the time.
You tell a friend who's had a bitter break up and who is still hung up on the ex, "He has found someone else".
You’ve been going out for seven days and you tell him what your kids will look like.
When you decide to make your mom your best friend and in your enthusiasm, you tell her about your amorous deeds or worse still, you tell her what you want to do if let loose on your current interest.

dismal story

2006-04-02T08:03:00.000Z

Anamika

Once in a while one is overcome by some thought, some urge which distracts you no end, threatens to incapacitate you until you give in. Well, I am now overcome by this sudden urge to write. That having said the next thought is…. well what do I write. Should it be a story on the lines of the musk deer that went looking all over the wild for the source of that heavenly scent, throws himself off a cliff only to find in his dying moments that it was emanating from him all along? Or should it be the story of a naïve little girl who lives in the hope of finding love, if such a thing exists?

When one is not so confident about oneself and one’s abilities, one seeks a definition of self from the opinions of others. This in most cases is disastrous as in the case of Anamika.

The highly impressionable Anamika was greatly enamoured and inspired by the movie, ‘Pretty Woman’. She imagined herself to be the beautiful Julia Roberts, a victim of cruel circumstances, compelled to do shameful deeds so as to survive, and yet not losing the beauty of her soul, only to be saved by a handsome Richard Gere who looks past her actions and her status in society. She felt that he was made only to hold her in his arms and to love her. Forever.

Anamika pined for such love and for her handsome young prince. But for the moment she had to discover herself. She came from a wonderful family, one of achievers with a staunch faith in God. Each of them knew what they wanted and worked to get it and, needless to say, got it, except for poor little Anamika. She was better than average in most things though not the best at any. She was intelligent but no genius. She was attractive too but no Helen. And she was acutely conscious of these facts. She constantly looked within herself to find that single unique characteristic that made her special, that made her her. As she couldn’t find the answer herself she began to look elsewhere, wherever there appeared a glimmer of hope that she might find it. In the process she learnt a lot about others, about different people.

First and foremost she realised that men sought convenience. Always. She held it against them, initially. But then she understood that that is how they are. They always say and do things that are most convenient to them. Not necessarily intentionally. At least not with the motive to hurt. But if at this moment it is convenient for them to love you, they will. The instant it is not they won’t.

As for women, they seek acceptance and security. And they are naïve enough to forgo their self esteem, their values and all that is dear to them if there is even a remote possibility of finding them. As years passed and she grew in experience Anamika became disillusioned with life. She saw around her people constantly making compromises, making the best of what they have. She saw people change. She saw relationships change. She discovered the impermanence of everything. And it dawned on her that there is no handsome prince. No perfect love. No blind and complete acceptance of one another. No happily ever after.

There is only hope. Hope that somehow life will turn out to be not so bad.