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Wednesday, June 09, 2010

Till death do us apart

She slowly climbed onto the rickety wooden chair that had served no purpose in the last twenty years. She stood to face the rope that she had so laboriously passed through the fan that stood in her drawing room. The noose was perfect; she smiled to herself as she realized how expertly she had made that for herself. In all of her sixty years on this planet, she never once believed that she would have the courage to do something like this. But now, the time was right. It was time to go. She had no desire to live anymore. She looked around at the table; saw the framed picture of her family taken ten years ago. How happy they looked in that, her husband, son and daughter. She hoped they would understand, she hoped this would not cause them too much pain. Wiping the tears that streamed down her cheek, she put her head into the 'perfect' noose and tightened it till she felt it was enough. Then as quickly as her old wrecked legs would permit, she kicked the wooden stool away. Almost immediately, she felt the rope cut into her neck and in that one instant, facing death, she could see her entire life flash before her eyes.
Sarah had been born into a very wealthy family at a time when the modern era had just begun. She had just one elder sister who she was extremely fond of. Being the younger one allowed her to be the princess for quite some time. But her father passed away much too early, when Sarah was barely nine years old. With that, the wheels of fortune changed. Her family incurred huge losses and they all had to abandon their comforts. They were by no means poverty stricken, but money was now all what they called from ‘blood and sweat’. Sarah adapted herself to the new lifestyle, but she also started to feel dejected and cast down. Losing the various luxuries of life did not hurt as much as losing her father. She had always been his favorite. She couldn’t sleep in the nights as she lay awake thinking about him. Her mother was struggling to make ends meet and Sarah did not want to be an extra burden. So she never complained. She went to the same school as her sister and they graduated one after the other. Sarah was smart, but she lacked the technical brilliance her sister possessed. And for this reason, while her sister was sent to college, she was married to Lincoln.
Her life changed for a second time. From being the carefree, innocent girl, she had to transform into the dutiful wife of that period. She had seen her aunts and her own mother (though for a short period only) play the perfect wife. She knew without being told that she would be expected to do exactly the same because Lincoln was just as old fashioned as she wasn’t. He was a warm person, he showered her with all the love and affection in the world, but he never understood her. She was happy, and yet she was sad. She gave birth to Sam within two years of her marriage. She was just twenty one years old. It was like a beautiful bird stuck in its cage despite the doors being open. She had grown more beautiful now, but she did not care much about her looks. In between changing diapers and being the good wife for her husband, she found that she did not have any time for herself. She loved them both dearly, but she resented the life she was leading.
By now her sister had finished college and was now working in the state government. She visited Sarah as often as her work would allow her. She loved her nephew and pampered him with gifts and toys that could never be found around where Lincoln lived. Sarah wanted to talk to someone, tell them how she felt. When she could bear it no longer, she sought out her mother and confided in her. But soon she wished that she had not. Her mother was offended because she thought Sarah was accusing her of having treated her two daughters differently. Sarah was shocked beyond words. She had never thought of it that way. But she realized her mother had spoken the harsh truth from guilt. After all she was the younger one and there was no need to have gotten her married then. She had been naïve and that had suited her family. It hurt her, but she absorbed the pain. Life could have been worse, she told herself. But it wasn’t and she still had a loving and respectable family of her own.
She returned and never spoke about that again, but she always felt a twinge of jealousy every time her sister brought Sam new gifts now. Though her sister did not know about the little outburst from their mother, she sensed that something was not quite right and she started being distant too. This made Sarah guilty. After all, it was not her sister’s fault if she had been the smarter one. But she didn’t have the courage to broach the subject again. The years passed by, Sam was five years old when she had her second child Lucy. She was a darling, just as Sarah had been when she was a baby. Lincoln loved his two children more than anything in the world, and in order to give them the best, they moved to the city.
Sarah though still had not gotten over her desire to live life differently. She wanted to do something she enjoyed. She wanted to work, but just the thought of mentioning it to Lincoln terrified her. She did not know why, but she was sure he would not approve of it. He already chided her for not keeping in touch with her mother and sister as before. (She had never told him why they had drifted apart) He was always telling her how family was very important and that nobody else in the world would stand up for her except those of her own blood. She was silently suffering by now. The guilt and agony at having been a failure had built up over the years. With no one to go to, she began immersing herself in all the household work. But she was also the best mother any child could hope for. She taught them at home after school, cooked the best dishes, and took them out shopping. Lincoln and Sarah did all that they could for their children.
Through all these years of depression, Sarah knew the one thing that she would never allow. She insisted that Sam and Lucy get everything equally. She never wanted her children to go the way she did. She encouraged them to talk their minds, something that the children loved about their mother. When Lincoln got busy with his work, she arranged little picnics on the weekends that he was available so that they never missed having their father around. She was single handedly running the entire family except for the finance part which Lincoln provided.
Lucy and Sam grew up to be fine human beings. They went to college and majored in the fields that interested them, fell in love and got married. Sarah was now sixty years old, and miserable as ever. Her sister had died a couple of years ago. She felt guiltier than ever before because she had never explained her behavior to her sister or apologized for it. In despair she began writing a journal. She wrote of the things she dreamt, but that only made her more upset. Soon she was writing more about how she had failed in life. Lincoln finally started to notice that Sarah was going down. He tried to talk to her, but she always smiled and said she was ok. He figured that maybe she just missed having the kids around. For many days, she would just sit and stare into nothingness in a dark room. She was sixty years old now and Lincoln sixty six.
Sarah knew that she would never find peace in this life of hers. She came to the conclusion that nothing but death would bring relief. All that she had failed to achieve had consumed her mind. So one Sunday, when Lincoln went out for his usual walk in the morning, she decided that it had to end now. She could take no more of the misery, no more of the pain. She wanted it all to end. She made one last entry in her journal knowing that her husband would find it. She wrote how she loved him and the kids and she thanked them for making her life better sometimes. She wrote how she would have never made it this far if it were not for them. She told them not to be sad over her going, because she was going to get rid of the terrible disease that had been clawing her insides for a long time now. Forty years was too long to keep fighting a battle with the mind.
A few days later, after the funeral, Lucy, Sam and Lincoln sat in the drawing room reading Sarah’s diary. Lincoln was heartbroken. Lucy had been hysterical when she heard the news first. But now, she was sitting on the couch and crying quietly. Sam was trying to console her. Why had Sarah never talked? None of them would ever forgive themselves for not seeing how much Sarah had tormented herself over the years. Sarah, who had always been there for them when they needed her. The clock struck ten. They all knelt down in a silent prayer for Sarah.
May she find peace where she has gone!

Monday, April 19, 2010

Merci to all those who matter!

For days now, I have been wondering what my next post should be about, then I thought why not take a trip down memory lane and revisit those days of innocence as I grew older.So, here is a toast to all the people who have helped me grow up,adjust and be the person that I am today, from as far as I can remember!

Phase 1:(Jan 1991 to May 1995)
Ok, this is a part I can barely recollect. You know, kindergarten and all.With both my parents working, I was sent to a play school. It was called Kridangan, located somewhere in Malleswaram,Bangalore. I have no idea if they have pulled it down or if it still exists, but I have extremely fond memories of the place.The park, the story rooms, the class rooms, the sand pit, the teachers, the 'aayahs' etc .Ahhh... I think I even remember the names of a couple of them, Geetha was the one I used to hate,actually no, I used to be scared of her, she was the strict type, and there was 'Chinamma' and 'Putamma'. They were th eones we always ran to because they were so sweet. And we had our own principal Mrs Lalitha, what a lovely report she wrote for me when I left the place :-).I had loads of friends there, everyone who played hide-n-seek and lock-n-key with me were my friends.Hehe.. There was a set of triplets too, two guys and a girl. I only remember the girl's name, Indu.But we had fun all the same, building castles in the sand pit and secretly locking the door from inside, not letting anyone sleep during the afternoon nap time that was set, talking and laughing. Bliss!
Then came school,I can vaguely remember Priyanka and Sneha and Akhila from school. Though I have no idea where they are right now, they were my first so called 'best friends'. I don't even know why we were best friends, we probably just sat together in class and shared lunches and snacks. Days of ignorance when happiness revolved around getting straight A's in class, playing a part in the christmas plays organised every year, getting to be a part of the school choir, getting our merit certificates,reading the news in the mroning assembly, making clay models, being voted the class leader etc etc. Things which seem almost silly today :).I was a sad kid as all three of them left school after Kg and moved to another state.
Apart from school,they was the girl next door-Nandhini. She was a couple of years older than I was.Hair always braided into 2 neat plaits. For some absurd reason, my parents would never let me go to her house, but we played all the games that girls of that age did.A few dolls(Yes, I owned a pink one with a cap and everything), and the kitchen set. I was also the proud owner of a doctor set. I don't know who bought it, must have been dad. Ha.. how I used to show off with it. I would walk around everywhere telling people that I would be a real doctor someday. Lol..so much for the dreams :P. And then yeah, Archana didi and Chetana didi.. the two girls who lived in the bungalow opposite. Archana was already a doctor then, they were just a few years younger than mom itself I assume. But I used to be their favourite and I reveled in the affection they showered on me.Next to their place were the Marvadis, who always put mehendi and the like for me during the holidays (It was banned in school).I would sit there and think 'What pretty dresses they are wearing even at home.' My own mom, though far more beautiful would fade in comparison because she always chose her clothes in dull colours, something I learnt to appreciate as I grew older.There was also a girl who lived with them, younger than me, but I can't quite recall her name :-(. I only remember her because she was what we considered a pain in the ass back then, non stop nonsense. :-).
Of course, late in September 1993, came my little brother, after months of everybody pestering me "Suchi, do you want a younger brother or a youger sister?" My answer would invariably be younger sister.Mom would always tell me "Awww, but if it's a younger sister, she'll fight with you for your clothes and jewellery!" Stubborn me would still stick to the "I want a younger sister only and no other sex is welcome in the house". But come September, when I saw my brother wrapped in those nice cosy blankets about an hour after he was born, all that younger sister thing vanished in thin air. Here was the most adorable baby I'd seen and I would not have anybody else but him. I remember how when they brought him back home, I would behave and pretend to be responsible just so I could have him on my lap for a few minutes.I wanted to be with him all the time, watch him as he picked up his first words, as he walked his first few wobbly steps.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

Lies, lies and more lies...

I have often wondered why people lie about so many things... and I have always, in all these years, failed to find a satisfactory answer. Its like a disease isn't it? No, I'm not talking about the times when certain things are not told, I firmly believe that what I don't know will not hurt me, but other times knowing that I will know when I am lied to, its frustrating to see the other person so painstakingly build a story. It makes me want to laugh out loud and say, save that for someone else, I know exactly what you are doing. I can understand lying if it is a situation in which the truth will lead to disaster ( like getting yelled at or like leading to an argument between friends etc etc), but what drives me crazy is the lies for no reason... It is ridiculous! One would think that after four years of hostel life, I'd be passive to things like this. I wish....

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Paiyya- An overview

Ok, I haven't ever done this before and people who know me will ask you not to take my opinion because I'm so hard to please when it comes to movies. You can't blame me, if I'm going to pay a hundred bucks to watch a movie, I'd like it to be worth both, my money and time.. The fact that I lack the patience to watch regional movies is altogether another issue. So coming to the point. Paiyya- a movie I was looking forward to. After having seen Karthi don the roles of henchman and whatever he was in his first movie, a lot of us were expecting a smart, handsome Karthi in a breezy feel good romantic movie. First ten minutes into the movie and all this will vanish. The characters and their acting.. God, its an eyesore. Tamanah is at her worst. After so many movies, I actually thought maybe she would be able to bring some expression to her face. But no, its the same white face with an awesome figure and no expressions whatsoever again! As for Karthi, he looks at her all the time with what is supposed to be a 'longing look' or the romantic gaze.. all he manages is an empty stare and a silly smile. I'm starting to think even Suriya was better when he started off.
Ok, the story! All set in a journey from Bangalore to Mumbai. Obviously our hero is trying to save the girl he fell in love with at first sight from some villains who are trying to get her married to her father's mistress's brother. The attempt to bring in humour through Kathi's friends and the silly man who gets a lift mid-way leaves you wanting to get up and run away from the place. And if one group of villains wasn't enough, you have another set chasing Karthi for revenge. I can't believe the sexy Milind Soman was wasted away in this kind of role. Like the usual tamil cinemas, a few songs in between, plenty of fights and you have already reached the end of a two and half hour torture.

Thursday, April 08, 2010

The love-hate relationships

I have exactly 50 minutes to bathe and run off to class. So why am I sitting here and writing this. Ah, I realized that a mind so heavy is not good for my health. The last one week has been really strange. Everything that I have worked so hard to stay away from has come back to haunt me and I have the strange feeling that it's not over yet. Funny Question: Does it really matter if some girl is seeing someone but not telling her friends about it? Is it really that bad a thing as it was made to be? Of course, it is another thing that it might not be true at all. But wait, we aren't speculating about strangers here, they are supposed to be best friends. You know the type to laugh together and cry together and miss each other and all. As a silent spectator, I used to smile at all this. But now, as I stand, ready to leave this place and fly away, I wonder if the fight they are having is really worth it. I have never understood this bit of friendship. Is it all just about celebrating birthdays, sitting together and eating in the canteen? Isn't there something beyond it at all? Atleast among themselves... This might sound old, but is it so hard to say sorry to somebody who apparently means a lot to you. Watching this from the point of view of an outsider ( not like I was in the thick of things at any point of time anyway), it seems so dumb. I wonder how they even called themselves friends.Whatever maybe the reason, now is not the time to fight and ignore one another. Now is the time to sit and talk and sort out. Be honest, not just to others, but to themselves. Its not really difficult. I wish I could go and tell them, but they wouldn't listen. I hope they sort it out. The world could really do with lesser hate..

Wednesday, April 07, 2010

Music for the soul !

Just wanted to post this one. The most beautiful song I've heard in recent times.. from Wake up Sid. I heard it for the first time while watching the movie. The voices and the music... very soothing. The lyrics speak for themselves, young, fresh and liberating. I don't think I will ever find the words to truly express what I feel everytime I listen to this song :-) Here goes... (with the english translation)

Orey manva tu to bavra hai
Tu hi jaane tu kya sochta hai
Tu hi jaane tu kya sochta hai bavre
Kyun dikhaye sapne tu sote jaagte
(My heart, you are so naive,
the start of a dream,
and you have already stopped thinking (rationally!!))

Jo barse sapne boond boond
Nainon ko moond moond
Nainon ko moond moond
Jo barse sapne boond boond
Nainon ko moond moond
Kaise main chaloon, dekh na sakoon
Anjaane raastein
(When the dreams are pouring drop by drop,
my eyes are getting blocked by the downpour,
and hence I am unable to walk on these unfamiliar routes).
Gunjasa hai koi iktara iktara,
gunjasa hai koi iktara
Gunjasa hai koi iktara iktara,gunjasa hai koi iktara
Dheeme bole koi iktara iktara, dheeme bole koi iktara
Gunjasa hai koi iktara iktara, gunjasa hai koi iktara
Sun rahi hoon sudh budh khoke koi main kahani
Poori kahani hai kya kise hai pata
Main to kisiki hoke yeh bhi na jaani
Ruth hai ye do pal ki ya rehgi sada...
kise hai pata… kise hai pata
(Iktara is a single stringed instrument capable of a deep bass and a sharp treble…..and hence is metaphorical of music and the seven notes and life’s up and down in general. This para says,There is an iktara playing all around me, slowly surrounding me. As I am listening to its story, (I) am losing myself in it, mesmerized, so much so, that I don’t know whether (it) is telling me the “whole” story, or just parts of it…..How can I gauge that, when I have myself become part of a story, without knowing whether it is just a tale of a few moments, or will it last forever….)
Jo barse sapne boond boond
Nainon ko moond moond
Nainon ko moond moond
Jo barse sapne boond boond
Nainon ko moond moond
Kaise main chaloon, dekh na sakoon
Anjaane raastein
Gunjasa hai koi iktara iktara, gunjasa hai koi iktara

Gunjasa hai koi iktara iktara, gunjasa hai koi iktara
Dheeme bole koi iktara iktara, dheeme bole koi iktara
Gunjasa hai koi iktara iktara, gunjasa hai koi iktara

Morning blues

Yawn... Fantastic beginning to the day. After having slept at 1.15 last night or this morning, whichever way you'd like to look at it, a 6'o clock wake up call was hardly on the cards. Mom called so early and she sounded so tense, I thought something was wrong. Turns out she wanted my PAN card number. Grrr... couldn't that have waited until 8? Anyway, I got out of bed and went on to check my mails, nothing yet. Sigh! Seriously, no college wants me :(. How depressing. That of course is just one of the reasons why my morning feels so blueeee ... Here, let me list it out.
1. Weather- What is it with Indian Summers? Yuck.. I sleep under the fan and still wake up sweating. It's horrible.
2. Mumbai Indians lost last night. Yes, yes IPL. They lost to CSK and I've lost count of the number of people who've been rubbing it in. Epic Fail!
3.Every time I come online, I'm sick of reading news about Sania-Shoaib! For heaven's sake, why can't the media leave them alone. If there are any problems, its for them to sort out, not the whole world. Disgusting! Hell, even the papers have this in the front page. ! Give them a break..
4. Project work- Urgh! have to submit my synopsis tomorrow. Haven't even started.
5. Last, I have to go to college on this hot day and report to the teachers on the progress the association has made this year. Somebody please help me.
:-( Gotta run now. Can't sulk over any of this yet. Have work to do.. What is this life full of care, with no time to stand and stare!

Monday, April 05, 2010

In my end is my beginning...

Yes, finally the time has come for the slam books and the farewell. In less than two weeks, all the girls ( err... women) will be wiping their tears and the men :-P will be hugging and doing the customary hand-shakes all around as they say good-bye to their near and dear ones. Every now and then I have somebody asking me, 'are you sorry that your leaving?'. Now, its not a big secret that most people detest this place. Some of them will be secretly rejoicing as they go back home, HOME- parents to pamper them, much to the envy of the siblings... and then the city life again, more freedom, no 6'0 clock in-time, no yelling warden,and pizza at any time of the day. Ha... what about me? As with everything else, I have mixed feelings for this place. I don't love it, but yeah, I don't hate it either. I've lived my life here. The last four years have taught me so much( Yeah, I know that is so cliched, but hey, it fits! ). The people I've known, the things we've done. Without exaggerating, I can say that this place did to me what the bodh tree did to lord buddha. :D From being agnostic to turning religious, from extrovert to introvert, from emotinal to rational, I'm hardly the person I used to be :-). While some of them complain about it, I find that I have no reason to change who I am now. I want to look back on these four years and remember the good days only. Its so easy to hold on to the past and make life miserable... I have seen it happen with people and myself too. I don't think I want to do that to my life ever again. What has happened has happened and no amount of brooding and sulking can change it. So why live in the past at all? Today's the day, now's the time and this is the place to be happy :-) As I revisit my college life, I see the sun rise and I smile from within :D Whatte experience I say! Cheers
To be contd...

The grand entry !

For somebody who has loved writing for as long as she can remember, this is a very late entry to the blogging world. For years now, I have been putting this on hold. And for what reason?? I'm afraid I do not have a good enough answer for that question. Maybe I was just insecure. Sure, I love writing... But I never thought I was good at it. Now, it so happened that the other night, I couldnt quite sleep. So while I sat trying to figure out how to kill time, I did what came to me naturally. I started writing. No, not the diary. I was too lazy to pull it out from the depths of my shelf where I had secretly deposited it lest someone should find it and read my innermost feelings( Yeah right! ). I had the laptop in front of me and being the computer science engineer that i am , :-P [ that was just for the kicks, my apologies :-) ] I began to type.This is my last year in college, correction, I have exactly two months before I walk into the big wide world, all by myself. I remember I first started writing properly when I was in class 12 . To be able to express what I was feeling without worrying about the responses was something that appealed to me tremendously. Of course, the fact that my feelings back then began and ended with the different fights I had with family and friends is altogether another issue. Today, things are so different. I have matured, I take life as it comes and I have no regrets. Oh oops, the digression! Sorry, as I was saying, the other evening , I sat typing away on my laptop and it seemed so easy. It was then that the thought occured to me again. Why not a blog? Why not forget being worried for a while and just do what I enjoy. Well, this time thankfully, it didn't end with just the thoughts. I did sign up and well.. here I am. A tribute to the wonderful life I've had!!