The Face in the Mirror

One dark room. Faint shimmer of white light falls in the room. Bright enough to make out the faint silhouette of the things in the room. At the left corner, there is a mirror hanging on the wall.

I stood in front of that mirror, in the almost darkness. I could see my silhouette. My hair. The faint shape of my face. I could see it. But, I couldn’t see my eyes, my lips or anything that defined my face.

Blank.

Have you ever stood in front of a mirror like that and wondered when all your features are wiped clean, what would be your identity? Would a description of ‘what makes you’ by a trusted friend satisfy you? Would the shape of your eyes or the plumpness of your lips define you?

I found myself standing in front of the dark mirror longer than I should. Trying to squint my eyes and see if I can still see something. Maybe a ghostly shape? At least a faint sketch of my eyes.

Nothing.

I wondered, why did it matter so much?

Then I asked myself, “Who is she?”

The defined face in the light or the silhouette trying to discover and define herself in the dark?

I walked away with no answer.

The uncertainty still remains. And I’m learning to be ok with not knowing right away.

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Tough Decisions

One fine Sunday morning, when I was making French Toast for my father, I wondered – What am I doing with my life? Is my decision the right one? Did I make the correct move to accept a job that would shake my life?

And then, I heard my 2 year old niece talk to her mother. She had trouble making her own decisions. She wondered out loud with her mom – Should I wear the blue underwear with Lola on it or the red underwear with a yellow teddy on it?

Tough decisions.

Simpler times. I wish I can go back to making such decisions.

Yet, I love our lives.

The Time I Survived

Yesterday, I felt my end was near.

There was a sharp, shooting pain that took birth from my ear till my chest. Numbing my face, making it difficult to speak. 

Fear rose in my chest, leaving the tiny red beast within the confines of my rib cage in a tizzy. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Yet, I could feel it. My end was near. 

There was a serene acceptance. Almost embracing the fate that seemed sealed within the confines of my mind.  

I wondered if you would remember me. I wondered if you will look at my typed out words, resting in your phone and feel loved. I wondered, if my words would help you feel cherished. I wondered if you could finally feel me next to you.

The day sailed by, without any physical incident to the little red beast. It was still beating. By night, it slept restlessly. 

Then there was dawn. 

I had survived.

But my words still hung on in your phone with a silent hope in my being that those words would still have an effect on you, which I cannot define.

My Memories

I don’t trust my memories anymore.

Why?

They seem to get corrupted with time. As corrupted as my mind will allow my memories to get, for its own selfish reasons. Sometimes so corrupted that my mind will leave me wondering what exactly was the reality!

Now you know why.

My Incoherent Ambiguity

I have been thinking about this, and before my memory has the best of me let me ask you this: Does everyone need to be saved?

Do we need to be saved?

And from what? Even during the distressing times of imbalance, what is that unknown impending doom that we feel that makes me ask again and again, do we need to be saved?

If yes, how?

Probably people ask for it all the time when in despair and we are busy being occupied with nothing to hear their pleas. It is probably always dismissed by us thinking, “time will heal all wounds” and for all you know, that will probably leave the person unrecognizable.

Probably if we listened more, there might be some hope. That behavior makes me ask, do we actually want to save them people?

And finally, can we actually be saved?
—..

My Cold Decisions

The mind does see things clearly when it is not agitated anymore. But this agitation is very necessary. This agitation builds power and tolerance. It enhances everything and most importantly it teaches.

I learned that I can choose to turn my back and walk away anytime from my company mid way, whenever I find it going nowhere. This is not saying, “I accept defeat.” This is simply about me, being calculative and deciding where I chose to put my energy. This gives me back my power to choose and my freedom from the useless obligations.

Walking away from the person who I’m helplessly vulnerable with will be tough. It always will be. Even with all the destruction I see lying in front of me, I would still want to put the unnecessary energy. It is a vicious cycle and it will go on till I move on. Its crazy how some things works and throws balls of contradictions hard at me. Exceptions would be there, however hard I try to balance out everything. This needs working on.

But till then, with others, I choose to walk away when need be.

One Nightmare with a Tiger

 Once upon a time in a town, there was a big enclosure. The enclosure had the biggest tiger anyone had ever seen. He had expressionless eyes and he simply walked around round and round in his enclosure.

One day, the bolt of the enclosure gave away and with a slight nudge of his paw, the tiger broke free. It’s eyes were still expressionless but for his movements. The way he moved was slow and graceful. It had an air of authority he had easily assumed which silently gave away a simple message: The town now was his.

The people of the town were filled with fear. I was one of them.

We closed our doors tightly shut and hoped he would not choose our gates to enter. The curtains were drawn and the town seemed deserted.

One day, I sat on the floor by the door, enjoying the sun the drawn curtains had denied us of. It was the temptation of freedom, that gave me the courage to open the door a little, and now even the air felt good. I felt more greedy and it was immediately swallowed as soon as it was felt by what I saw next…

The tiger on this day had chosen the gates of my house. It rested near the gates of my house, thus denying anyone to come in or me to go out.

Panic gripped my heart. Heart thumping, I wondered if this was it: the loss of my freedom and living in constant fear.

I heard a distant yelp from inside, and my white Pomeranian came rushing by my side. He was so tiny and adorable, that you would feel like cuddling him forever. His presence brought some relief to my anxiety.

He saw the door of our house was creak open and me peeking out, staring at the tiger. He didn’t know fear. He didn’t know what lay ahead of the open door. He only knew he wanted to get out and run on the grass as freely as he could like before. And before I could stop my puppy, he rushed out of the door and saw the tiger.

He gave an angry bark at the tiger, the house after all was his territory and he bolted towards the tiger. The tiger was unperturbed. That didn’t stop my puppy and he kept running at the intruder. I screamed at my puppy in terror asking him to come back. I just screamed, paralyzed at the door hoping he would listen to me and come running back to me. He paid me no heed and kept running at my fear till he was face to face to the tiger.

The tiger looked down at my puppy as he kept barking. Probably my puppy’s patience gave away and he bit the tiger. That got the tiger’s attention and it looked down. It had first expression in his eyes: rage. And just when I saw him move to react to my puppy, I opened my eyes.

It was just a dream.

I woke up feeling like it was my fight. It was my fear to some unknown. And unless, I do not run towards my fears and fight it, I will never know what will lie on the other side. I will always toss and turn that I never even tried and that I let the fear control my mind.

Probably what I needed as a reminder to a known philosophy was this nightmare with the tiger.

—..

My Nagging Obsessions

This is one of those times when I want something, I have to have it. And the want becomes so aggressive that it borders to a nagging obsession. There is no rhyme or reason to why I want it. There is only one thing – I want it and it has to be mine.

An irritating trait.

So irritating that it goes beyond the “rational” logic of “What is yours will be yours”. That rational sounds more of a consolation. I do not want to wait for it to happen.  I am not that bold either. But all I simply know is I want it and make it mine.

Patience is a virtue they say. But when running out of time, what is patience? “It will eventually come to you if it has to be yours”, they say. An extension to that “rational” consolation. And I continue to grow more impatient by the end of the day.

There will be a false pretense and it all ends with a lie – it is not so significant. I do not know why is this that I want that I’ll wait, figure things out more, analyze more, ignore my emotions and see where it goes. It’s just an emotion after all.

Jibber jabber.

5 Beautiful Days

5 Days

Is it enough to change a person?

What if those 5 days is nothing but basking in pure pleasure of everything that a person would wish in his day to day life? Stimulating conversations. Early morning walks and beating lethargy. Agreeable freedom at night. All this in a slow, small, peaceful city. All this is real. I am on that side of the grass which will always be greener.

Now back to be lost as a dot in the crowd, there is some sense of loss: of the essence that makes me as a person or the spirit that makes me want to get up and do things, I do not know. But it is a loss. Thinking of this, makes me wonder if this is not a change at all. If this change is nothing but a reversal of the natural nature of a person? Where the crowd doesn’t exists. Or the existence of the crowd is as insignificant as a speck of dust. The standards of interactions have probably gone up a notch. Where randomness is not about the daily routine but about spontaneity, not making a plan for another plan. Where there is some sense and maturity.