Quit

Sitting in a chaos

Clicking numbers on my laptop

I think of nothing in particular

But just want to write

I wonder if there could be a tune to it

A rhythm that could make it a song

There must be something to it

To make me want to go on

There is no confidence in what I do

There is no reason to continue what I do

Snap out. Dig up.

Unearth what’s buried long ago

Has it gone to dust?

Is it my treasure?

I may never know if I don’t quit.

Born a Man

It is scary when I get down to writing like this because it means there is a problem in my life. And even though I am not sure if I have one, I am writing. Adding to my fear.

I do not know what is really wrong right now and I cannot really put my finger on it but i just feel lost and not happy. How can I be wrong all the time and every-time?  Am I that lame? Am I that dumb? I dont think so and really hope not. Because I wouldn't be able t bear that about myself. My self confidence is shaken and i think i doubt myself which is disgusting. I am not like that.

I cant imagine how many times i have said I want to be born a man in my next life. And i hate myself for it. But for scores of men in this world, the reasons for this sort of statement would make me a feminist and ofcourse the female fraternity would chew me alive for this thought to even cross my mind.

But it really is a fact. On a festival, the men can wear jeans and t shirt but the woman must wear a heavy flashy suit. Men dont have to wear the heavy metallic jewellery in the heat but a woman must. A woman can go out and do her job but is still expected to come home and fix everything including a child's routine without any help because that is what a woman does. Then oh man! will you please earn enough for my family to lead the life we are because of the double income? Can you double your salary today so that i can quit my job and spend all my love for my adorable child? Spend time seeing and experiencing all the firsts that he does? Spend time teaching him things that i always dreamed of? Raising him just the way i wanted him to? Spend time at home without feeling guilty of ignoring my house and child at the hands of another person? Can i live a guilt free life? Because i dont deserve it. I dont deserve it when you work for 5 hours and come back home to plonk yourself on the bed with a quilt over sinking yourself in the video games - internet - television or any other form or recreational activity. Because that is when i feel sad and my mind goes awry on the fact that after al that i do - i still feel the guilt and after all that you dont do, you feel that is your birth right.

I want to be born a man in my next life. 

I Didn't Realise

I didn't realise that its been more than a year since i wrote anything on my blog. Well actually I had an old traditional diary to fall back on. Me and diaries don't go back to very great days. but when i read them now. I laugh and feel nostalgic. and sometimes stupid too.

The first time I wrote a diary I started writing about a guy and my mother read it. All hell broke lose. I remember. I stopped writing. I remember saying this constantly to myself that my mom cheated on me and now I will never write. Then I fell in love and I had to write again. So I made a concealed diary. An accounts notebook in which i wrote about my love stories. My mom caught me again. All hell broke lose again. My friend Ankita told me, who had been with me through both my ordeals, that I was the stupidist person to have repeated the mistake. I agreed. I stopped writing again.

Then when I got my absolutely separate room with my gadgets and gizmos that only I knew how to operate, I started writing again. Called it my e diary. This time i hadn't found another love but had only strengthened the previous one. My mother lost hope and got me married to him.

In many ways I think i have my diaries to thank for getting my love life in some order. Considering I would have never had the strength to go up to my parents to tell them " I'm in love" or "I'm still in love and still want to marry him"

Keep writing and keep blogging :-)

Treasure Hunt

There is strong notion what is right and what is wrong . Atleast in my head. I know what I want from my life and I know I definitely want it. I see myself in a particular way, style. I don't want to be someone but neither do I want to be anyone. I surely have a purpose to be around, I know. But what is my true calling? I'm still deciphering.

Contradiction? Yes it is. I know I want to dance, act , film. But do I want to dance my life through? Do I want to act my way through? Do I want to make commercial films or do I want to make the film that I want to make- losses or no losses. Honestly I'm not sure of any of the answers to these questions.

I think I just want to be free. I just want to live my life meandering through the planes I have chosen. Sometimes i skew towards dance and sometimes I act for my pleasure and when I think I am ready, I make a film. Ideally, for myself for the world to see. But will I ever do any of it? I hate the way practicality just sweeps in a direction opposite to your spirit. I hate it that practicality never agrees with the within. I hate it when practicality just doesn't let me be me.

And so, I still hunt for my true calling. I feel dazed and inadequate knowing its all not happening and in the process perhaps lose my identity. Which brings me to the next question. As I grasp to retain my identity, am I being selfish? In the practical world, I can hear the shouts of "No" almost in surprise and disgust - a fusion of emotion that is very easily relatable.
To them I would just like to ask, would you change even an iota for the people who love you the most? Would you let go of just on identity to see those people smile?

And as I debate this in my head, the treasure to the Utopian life still eludes me...

Iron

It's not about anger, when I scream and shout
It's not about embedded reactions when I speak aloud
I have a strong notion
Of whats right and wrong
I may be judgmental
But I am still proud.

The strength of iron
I feel within
I do not break down when the tears roll down
Its not my sorrow that you see with the frown
The cringe within just brings me together
and the tears that roll down
shed the apprehensions away.

I want to speak my mind I know
I want to break all rules I'm sure
I'm not a rebel
But I'm not in a shell
There must be something human, somewhere I hope.

REALISING THE INSPIRATION

Inspiration. Sounded profound to me for 24 years and a few months of my life. Until today. Realisation. I understood that term very honestly and truthfully. And so I hope till this day.

The word has always irked me knowing well that it is probably a very strong driving force in whatever I do and create. Perhaps, it was dichotomy in my head that was created by Anu Mallik who termed all of his steals as inspirations. However funny it may sound, its strange how its stuck in my head for so many years and quite subconsciously. It was about time I realised. And I did.

So how different is inspiration from stealing and being original?

I see a film, say, The English Patient. I admire it. I feel the film for days together and am moved by may be the scenes or a moment or even the music of the film. If I decide to remake it to the tee for bollywood, I steal. If I make an adaptation of it, keeping a similar plot and sensibilities, I still steal. But if, I decide to keep the feel and change my entire plot line, I escape. Why? Because feelings are nothing but emotions and they are universal. The human love in India or in UK is bound to be the same. Sadness is associated with tears and happiness with a smile. And when we tend to love films, when we live films, it’s mostly because somewhere you have associated yourself with the emotion and the expression. Somewhere, something - the moment - has left you knowing of an emotion that you could relate to.

Perception and interpretation - the true mark of an individual. And it is this identity that sets apart one film from another. No script will look the same after it has been through the vision of two different directors. And thus, no copy can be an accident. A copy is intentional and its not an inspiration of an ardent fan. At best I could call it an imitation. I just saw a film called Fahrenheit 451. And I loved it. It was crazy and yet profound. And that has inspired me to write this piece. So you see, now I know exactly what inspiration is all about! I have realised :-)

And now, the word is no longer profound. Its my catalyst. And hey Mr. Mallik.... Don't know if you've heard of this but imitation is the best form of flattery. You've atleast done some people proud!

TO BE LOVED OR NOT TO BE

When I was young, I had heard many a times that in life you can have only one friend and that friend must be for life. And today, in half consent with the above statement, I need to add another dimension to a mans social life. Blessed are those who experience true love and divine are those who experience unconditional love.




There is a soft silent smile
Across her lips it lies
Her eyes have a glint
And lashes that surrender with each blink

And when she closes her eyes
Her world passes by
One face of desire
Stands waiting for her to consider

She has walked the trodden paths
And fought with fervor and fast
At times she felt disgruntled
But a hope always passed

Oh well she has been loved
And she knew it deep within
A feeling that knew not many
She knew how it felt to be loved