What’s a human without any trust over another human or any ounce of hope that maybe, just maybe, things might be different for him/her?

It this what is called as merely existing?


Whimsical Desires

A moment of madness,
Triggered by something that caught your attention
Maybe a lost forgotten dream
Maybe a lost forgotten aspiration
But that one moment of madness…
Born out of a whim
And you want to leave it all
Pursue it till your soles are sore
Give in your last drop of energy
Till everything that was carefully built
Crumbles silently to the ground
Giving reasons to silence the mind
Forgetting all the logic and rational
And for that moment, one moment only
You decide to follow your heart
It may take you closer to your dreams
It may fulfill your fantasies, or
It may lead you to disaster
It may lead you to your destruction
It may lead you to desolation
But in that one moment of madness
Born out of your whimsical desires
You feel that you can have it all

Understanding Mortality

Nothing is more final than death. Period.

One moment there is existence. One moment there are emotions. One moment there is this belief that things will keep going on, we will keep moving on, we will keep discovering things, we will keep loving people.
And then, one sudden moment, it is dark. It is blank. It is over.

What would it matter then? Would you know what has happened after you take your last breath? Would it matter who says what about how you lived your life? Would it matter that someone once brutally broke your heart? Would it matter that you couldn’t buy that last remaining limited edition book that you always wanted? Would it matter that you couldn’t tell the person what you wanted to say, in your carefully chosen words? Would anything ever matter at all, once you are gone?

That will be the finality, leaving no room for hopes. That will be the end of mortal existence.

We are in a beautiful continuation now, yet dying very slowly, every second of our time. Trying to understand the beautiful soul that resides in our body filled with potential you yourself do not know.

Can you now think of what to do with your soul? Would you still wait for someone to find your soul so that you can finally be someone’s forever? Would you listen to yourself? What would you do?

How will you live your life now?

My Addictive Life

It’s like those addictive stimulants: you have some, enjoy it and come back for more and before you know it, you are hooked.
I am wondering if that is what my relation with the corporate world has come to be now. A typical Bollywood story: It began with hatred for the whole industry. Then it begins to woo me, by throwing a great opportunity at me. I respond and start earning the recognition. I finally succumb to my human nature and drown myself in the recognitions. I see the highs it gives me and I, unaware to myself, slowly begin falling in love with the work. Its my stimulant. I keep coming back to it, again and again. And before I know it, I am spending my evenings with it, enjoying it more than spending doing nothing with coffee in a cafe. The irony.
I hunt aggressively for passion, ask where is it. And now I wonder, what if I have already found my passion and I am as unaware as I was the first time I fell in love with my new addiction. What if it really isn’t that simple?
Amusing this life and its addictions is. Everything has a funny way of unfolding itself. Maybe it is my new obsession to throw myself away from a conflict or a dissatisfaction. Probably it is the aggressive, raw, quick power that I am building. Probably it is the name and recognition. Probably it is introducing myself to the new side of me. Probably…
What is everything compared to my name that will be immortalized when I’m gone?
It is amusing. It is making me a hypocrite. It may be a phase and I’ll re-prioritize. But then, till then it is a delicious addiction. This life.

To Blue Days

Blue days. Where would be all those art filled with raw emotions be, if it were not for blue days? Poets singing ballads? Philosophers making theories for comfort? Musicians strumming on guitars?

If it were not for blue days, there would be no hope, fighting for better times and growing to be stronger. If it not for those days, there would be no logical answers to a hopeless hope. An anger putting an end to a misery. And thus moving forward.

On this blue day, I wonder what would be the reason of my emotional amusement that had caught my attention for so long? Making me act all silly and watch myself stumble with words. Should there be a reason to like? Is falling for someone that difficult now?

Before I drown in the beauty of music, I wonder if I’m hiding behind the pretext of blues and finding reasons to run away than stand up and face the outcome.

But if it weren’t for the blues, I would be as good as dead today.

To my blues and many more…

The Grass will Always be Green

Harry Potter did it. Watching the second part of the movie series triggered all the forgotten emotions. It was like time travel, watching the enchanted car flying:  I was 12 and there was nothing but pure obsession for all different passions. From art to fantasy to life.

A great time spent was not with my phone, but with the books. Lying down on my stomach and getting lost in another world with magical beings where everyone had a story to tell. Slowly falling asleep with the book over me, dreaming of the world that I painted along with the books I read. I would close my eyes and that would be my own world – a step away from reality. What was real?

It was a world devoid of panic attacks. Where the society didn’t matter. Attempts to fit in and socialize wasn’t a necessity. It was easy to be straight forward because human relations were that simple. There was innocence – no adultery, no disappointments, no fatal attractions, no expectations, no time bounds or commitments which would make your head spin so bad that you would wait for the time to just pass and feel better eventually. There was nothing but ambition, motivation, passion and dreams. Beautiful dreams to make it big and make an impact which will make people sit back and see the wonder that makes you.

It was simple. There were words in my mind that would flow so easily without the fear of being caught off guard. There was no necessity to make an conscious attempt to hide the raw, blunt emotions. There was no necessity to sound different. There were words and they were beautiful to play around with, spinning tales and sharing thoughts and ideas.

Now, there is great independence which is running its course of excitement. No more intellectual conversation which I would so shamelessly indulge on, but insignificant nothings and awkward silences. There is a hunt for self discovery, understanding all the good and the dark nature of self. In that pursuit of self discovery and irrelevant obsessions the most significant element is lost – myself. Things that defined me. Things that would emancipate me. They are all lost somewhere. What I used to do, what I used to be; are nothing but a thing to be admired by people, who would rather know that she but the now me. The now me is like everyone else, hiding behind the multiple masks due to lack of trust, need to be accepted and feel a sense of belonging when away from home, to feel at home.

This pursuit of self discovery has left me a stranger to myself. I would now rather back off and stay quiet instead of letting a person know how I really feel. I would now rather be stepped on and be the insignificant one in the relation just to feel accepted. I would now rather say yes to a person and hurt my self respect over and over just to maintain a friendship. I would now rather let people have a say in my glitches than have a spine and confront it on my own. And this all started by wanting to impress everyone at the corporate world to show what a brilliant asset I am, just so that I am immortal in the minds of all the biggies I work with. And then what? This is where the complications started.

I love my job. I have a job to kill for. I do. I would fight for it to maintain my position and grow agressively in it. But since when did people’s appreciation started to matter?

I wonder, since when in anything ever in life did people’s view started to matter? What do they think on how you are, or how you choose to live your life? Since when?

This is not independence.

And watching Harry Potter triggered this. Reminded me of who I really was. Of who I really am. Someone who is not bound by any social norms. Someone with a voice of her own, as strong as she could be. Someone with a mind of her own, who is not dependent on simplest of simple things on society. Someone with her own stand and not be affected with insignificant disappointment of people because this is me and my stand. Someone, who is not defined by the corporate world. Not a soft clay to be molded into a tiny monster by the confined society.

A free mind. This is independence.

And thus, in middle of nothing, I found something.

I met me again.

My Paradox

I am out of control, but still in control.
The poison gives my tongue all the liberty, but the teeth still holds it back.
I do what I love, but I am still not satisfied.

 This poem by Harivansh Rai Bacchan, makes some sense when I think of giving in to a risk which is now all easy and almost close to being monotone:

Vruksh ho bade bhale,                                                There may be huge trees around
Ho ghane ho bhale,                                                     Thick and providing shade
Ek Patra chhah bhi mang mat,                                     Dont ask for shade
Mang mat, mang mat,                                                 Walk on the path of fire
Agnipath, Agnipath Agnipath;

Tu na thamega kabhi                                                  You wont stop, ever
Tu na mudega kabhi                                                   You won’t look back, ever
Tu na rukega kabhi,                                                    You won’t halt, ever
Kar shapath, Kar shapath, Kar shapath,                        Take this oath
Agnipath, Agnipath, Agnipath.                                    Walk on the path of fire

Ye Mahan Drushya hain,                                             It is a great Scene:
Chal raha Manushya hain,                                           The man is walking
Ashru, Sweth, Rakta se Latpat Latpat Latpat..            Tears, Sweat, soaked in blood
Agnipath, Agnipath, Agnipath.                                     Walk on the path of fire


High Expectations

I am already here, and yet I feel I’m nowhere.

Today, I missed an old friend who I once loved.  Now a long lost friend: Changed beyond recognition.

Bathroom thought:
Some people do great things, others just give up.

Beauty about words: You can interpret them in anyway you want in the absence of tone. There are as many possibilities as you like. Power of words, silence and choice
I like the word power.

What’s the difference?

You tell the truth, people get mad at you.
You lie, people still get mad at you.

You tell the truth, you are tagged weird.
You lie, you are still tagged weird.

You tell the truth, you are judged.
You lie, you are still being judged.

You tell the truth, people are hurt.
You lie, people are still hurt.

(For those with conscience)
You tell the truth, you feel like a fool.
You lie, you still feel like a fool.

So tell me, what’s the difference? You tell the truth or lie, it still seems to bring out the same emotion in people. People still appreciate both equally and yet people are still are not satisfied.

Both has its justifications.
But now, I want an answer.