Thee rat race that this life is- A man's thoughts

What is this life full of care, with no time to stand and stare..Such a simple line, yet so powerful in meaning. I sit down and ask myself...how long will this battle last, how long will I strive to attain what I am looking for. But then again, what is it that I am looking for? Is it money, not quite. Perhaps it is fame. Not so much. Recognition then? No.. I just want to live my life.
It is not as easy as it sounds. This life that I live, its a constant race. A race against time, a battle among peers. There is so much to see, yet I lose it all as I focus on my goal. The goal that is supposed to give me happiness.. Is it worth all this, I ask myself.
Those famous words, "Do not rest on your laurels".Ah, I diligently followed and in doing so, I forgot to savour those sweet moments of success. I may attain my unknown goal someday. But I am afraid that when the day comes, I will have forgotten how to feel happy.
The emotions lost, the soul in me dead. I realise I do not want to get anywhere. I want no goal."Just let me live my life", I want to scream! In the present, for the moment. Let me breathe and live everyday like it was my last day on this planet. Today is the day, now is the time and this is the place to relish it all

Ze T Nagar Experience

So yes, it was a hot hot Saturday like it always is in Chennai. I decided to spend the morning out on the streets of T Nagar doing some useful shopping. I boarded a bus and reached my destination at 9.30 am. The sun was just starting to get up in the sky and it was very humid. I looked around at the place in awe. I had always gone there with dad on his bike. This was my first time alone and I had to figure out the way amidst a hundred shops that looked the same to me. I walked on looking more confident than i felt. The aroma of flowers wafted in the air ( there were a lot of shops that sold garlands on my left ). I am not sure if i liked it, I was trying to focus on not losing my way. I passed GLOBUS and I felt slightly assured that I was heading in the right direction. And as expected,I reached the place I was searching for soon. I will not name the shop here, because I don't have too many nice things to say about it.

As a matter of fact, I have quite a few nasty things to say about their service! Firstly, these huge shops are supposed to have good sales people. I have only come across two kinds so far. One that constantly follow us around ( as if we were going to steal something ) and another that shouts at you for trying on too many clothes. I had a horrible experience in this shop ( probably my worst till date ). The sales women were constantly hovering around and being deliberately unhelpful. I had half a mind to yell at them, but then decided it wasn't worth the scene that it would create. For crying out loud, that is their only job. They may hate their jobs, and they may have a bad morning, but it is their job, they get paid for that. I am not saying wear a stupid smile and call everyone sir/madam. All I am asking is for them to be polite. And apparently that is asking for too much. After an hour, I gave up and walked out, wallet full and bag empty. I had not bought anything.

I was annoyed and frustrated. I needed to let that out of my system. I shifted my attention to the roadside shops. I have been encouraged to never buy anything at those places, but I was in 'what the hell' mood. I went in and to my surprise, the shopkeeper was incredibly helpful. He showed me a pile of 300 t shirts and said, 'Look through it madam, take anything that you like. It doesnt matter if its a mess when your done, take your time.' And the best part, he did not stand behind me and watch while I searched. He went about doing his work. He may have been secretly watching out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't make it obvious and hence, I was a lot more comfortable looking through the pile. After about 15 minutes, I was walking out of the shop satisfied with my buy!

You can argue with me saying that he needed to do this to get the sales up in his shop, but you know, I don't care. These big shops need to send their sales representatives to him and get them trained. They have a long way to go in terms of customer service. All said and done, my T Nagar experience wasn't nearly as disastrous as it first seemed, but I don't think I want to go back there to shop for a while. Time to explore other places....

KO - ??

It is a movie that i have been wanting to watch for a while. That in itself is quite a rarity becase it is not often that I want to watch a tamil movie. Now I am not a movie buff, I cant even write a review where I can talk about camera angles and lighting and all that. Half the time, I cant even make out the difference between the usage in the different movies. It all looks the same to me, that is how amateurish I am.

So then why do i say KO is worth a watch. (Wait! Why is this movie called KO? Yikes, have no idea). The movie is not the realistic kind if that's what you are looking for. But it is different, largely different from the run of the mill movies that Tamil directors usually make. Still, it has the unmistakable Tamil flavour to it, you get a strong whiff of it when you see the hero wheeling in the middle of the road to take pictures of thieves and then zooms ahead doing all kinds of stunts on his bike on a super busy road in the city. The concept of the movie is good, but one gets the feeling that the hero has it too easy With the henchmen, with the naxals, with the news he makes and everything.

If I had to talk about the actors, I'd say Jiva has a done a neat job. The story is what is handed over to him, so we cannot really pin the balme on him for anything on that part. He actualy plays his part with finesse. Jiva has really grown as an actor over the past few years and his performance is to be lauded. The 2 heroines, for once have a decent role to play in the movie. Both of them look good and also play their part well. So much has been hyped about the climax being something that you totally don't expect. And in a way this hype sort of makes you realise where exactly the movie is going by the time you get through half the movie. So that was like a spoiler. Otherwise, a good attempt by everyone and definitely worth watching atleast once...

Yes, she was not my best friend

We were never best friends, and probably will never be. But she was there for me when nobody else was. She cared when nobody else had time to spare a thought for me. I have acknowledged the role that many people played in my life so far, I missed out on this one. I never got a chance to thank her for all that she did for me, for being my guide, my strength. She was there to hold my back every time i fell, to lend a shoulder every time i cried. To accept me with all the faults that I was made of. Yes, she was not my best friend, she was a true friend.

We have fought a million times, I tore apart books, yelled at her, maybe even hit her and gotten hit too. She has annoyed me to no extent sometimes, I have wished for days when I would be alone without her constant presence and sweet talk. Now my wish has come true. I dont get to see that cheerful, encouraging face every morning. Now i miss it. I miss not sharing my chips. I miss fighting over that last spoon of noodles, I miss her opinion on everything. Yes, she was not my best friend, she was the sister I never had.

I may have not told her everything about my life, but that's who I am. I can't always confide in people. Sometimes, its my strength, sometimes its my weakness. Here, its more the latter. She knew that I had secrets. And it may have hurt her. But she did not show it. She had her dreams of how she wanted her relationships with friends to blossom, ours was never what she dreamt of. But she never walked off. She helped me through every difficult phase that I've seen, sometimes even without knowing the reason behind why I was upset or doing badly.Yes, she was not my best friend, she saved my soul.

Now that I sit back and think about the wonderful times that we shared, I realise what an important person she was in my life. I will never forget that calm, creative, cheerful person that she was. Whenever you read this, I hope you understand that it is dedicated to you and the wonder that you are. I miss you and I want to say thank you for all that you have done for me. I owe you big time. Mwah!

WEIRDNESS

How weird this life is,

When things that ought to have brought much joy,

have actually brought nothing but pain to her.

The tears wouldn't stop flowing,

no matter how hard she tried.

That very familiar feeling was back,

The one that would chase away all

happiness, leaving nothing but a deep pit of despair.

The one that suffocated and addled her brain.

The little happy world she built around her

crumbled slowly while she watched.

No, she didn't just watch, she tried to stop it

But like sand through her palms,

the harder she tried to hold on, the faster it slipped.

She wanted to give up, she had seen enough,

the battle just got more ferocious inside her head.

But each time, something held her back.

That little bit of faith from deep inside

told her to hang in there, that good times were due

'They may be a rarity now, but it wont be the case forever',

she told herself, again and again as she waited..

To be contd

And it is a good morning

“What on earth are you still doing with the damn newspaper” screamed dad as I sat up all groggy in bed. The grogginess, well… I think that story is worth another post in itself. So yeah…I dug out my phone from under the pillow to check the time and it was just 7 in the morning. My eyes hurt from having not slept properly in over 48 hours, but I knew that if I slept any longer, I was asking for some serious trouble. I hauled myself out of the comfort of my bed, oh wait, it wasn’t that comfortable anymore. The air conditioner had been switched off four hours earlier and it was as hot as hell! I adjusted my pillow leaving my phone under it for safe-keeping. Rule number 1: Never wake up with the cell phone in your hand, especially if your family can see you doing that.

Then, I see my brother walking into the room with the grumpy expression on his face and mumbling under his breath. Just as I was getting used to the light, my mom screamed for me from the kitchen. By now I was wide awake. I got around to brushing and then went to the most hated part of my mornings, milk. (Yuck!) I grabbed my coffee mug from the kitchen counter and moved to the balcony, away from everyone at home as they rushed about, trying to get ready on time. I settled comfortably in the easy chair (like a 60-year old as my mom liked to remind me) and opened the newspaper. And as always, I lost interest in the news that had been published after a mere fifteen minutes. I turned my attention to all the noise that was coming from outside.

It was almost 8’o clock. Most schools around this area begin at around 8.30 or 9 and I knew that there would be all the auto-wallas honking and screaming for the kids to come quickly lest they be late for school. I smiled to myself as I remembered those days when I was one of them, running around in a hurry trying to avoid being late to school. I paused to take in the scene around me. There was the usual middle-aged mother next door dutifully oiling her daughter’s hair and plaiting it. Was it my imagination or did the girl look grumpy? Well, it could be my imagination because back when I was in school, I was never happy with whatever my mother did with my hair. I would constantly complain about how my hair was standing up at the back or in front, phew… it was a bit of a struggle until 8^th grade after mother gave up on me and told me that I could do whatever I wanted with my hair. I felt like I’d won my battle with her.

Coming back to the present, I decided to focus elsewhere and noticed that there was another girl down near the compound gate probably waiting for her father to bring their car out. Meanwhile, the vegetable seller came in. The empty pavement was suddenly filled with women of different ages as they all hurried to get the best of vegetables at reasonable prices. They argued and pushed around for about fifteen minutes and when each of them had collected what they wanted, they started to move out leaving the vendor to count his collection for the day. He counted and appeared satisfied as he put the money in his tin box. He looked up at me where I stood watching and smiled. One happy man, I thought to myself as I waved to him indicating that we had the vegetables we needed for the day and would not be making any purchases.

He pushed his cart out and went to the next compound just as my mom yelled again from inside causing me to jump. I’d nearly forgotten about the milk I had brought. It was cold now, I tried to take a sip, but it tasted so bad that I couldn’t bring myself to drink anymore. I looked around to see what I could do when I saw Mouschi, the neighbor’s cat jumping into our balcony from the sunshade. J I smuggled a pan from the loft, poured my milk out into it and gave it to her. She lapped it up in no time and all I had to do was hide the pan till my parents left for work. I came back inside with the most innocent look that I could muster and that was the end of an eventful morning. One definitely worth describing. J

ALL IN THE MIND

I know it has been a while since I made any entry here, but I guess I can forgive myself by stating that working in the IT industry has barely given me any time to re arrange and make sense out of my thoughts, let alone write them down. But here I am, and the topic I have chosen for today is how much of life is built around what happens in the mind.

Let us take self belief for instance, when I begin doing something believing that I can finish it on time or successfully or whatever it may be, it makes a whole lot of difference as compared to me starting by wondering if I’ll ever be able to do justice to it. This of course applies to almost everybody on the planet. Realizing this is just the first step, there is a long way to go after this. I have learnt that confidence can be hard to build during bad times, but not impossible. Actually, with time, determination and effort, nothing is impossible.

Obviously this is one of the simplest examples. I, for one have started to believe that you are only as healthy or happy as you want to be. I have seen so many people including friends and family members suffering from various ailments. And the one thing that I have noticed in common is that when each of these sick people want to do something they enjoy, they are able to sit up and do it despite being sick whereas if it is some daily routine kind of thing that they are not particularly happy doing, then they are too sick to do it. I personally know of a person who cannot bring herself to do the daily chores at home. Her head hurts, she feels giddy, her legs and hands are swollen etc. But being the religious person she is, even walking a couple of kilometers to the temple does not hurt. Of course her argument is that God is taking care of her when she goes to visit him. I respectfully disagree. I am not an atheist, but I’m not a religious fanatic either. I firmly believe that God will not help if you were to sit in one place and just keep praying without lifting a single finger to help yourself. This of course can be another topic of discussion in itself. But coming back to the point here, what I am trying to say is that she is able to visit the temples without feeling as much pain only because she enjoys doing that and in her mind she knows that it will make her happy. If she were to employ the same thought process while doing other things as well, I am sure she will be loads better. It is easier said than done, because wallowing in self pity is something that comes naturally to us human beings. But then again, nothing is more dangerous than self pity. You lose respect for yourself and become miserable. That is precisely the moment when you cease to exist in the eyes of others.

The same is for happiness. If you choose to be happy, if you want to be happy, then there are hundreds and millions of ways to be happy. Constantly complaining about how things have gone wrong in life, and the number of obstacles you have had to face while walking to the path of success will only leave you weak and demoralized. Victory is sweeter when it comes after you have fought your battles like a true soldier. Life would be no fun if we were all to get what we wanted immediately. Every time something goes wrong, we must learn our lessons, pick ourselves off the ground and walk on with our heads held high. The past will remain with us, but we must use that to pave the way for a happier future, not as stories that we tell people to earn sympathy. We would do well to remember that today is the day and now is the time to be happy. We will never get these moments back, and every minute spent frowning or being unhappy is a loss in this short life that we lead. Atleast for me, when I go, I would like to be remembered as someone who smiled and did things the right way even when everything around her did not exactly favor her. I’ll finish by saying this, ‘The mind is hard to control. I am not saying anyone is an expert, but optimism must be the way of life’.

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!

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.

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....