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Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Happy Birthday to You and Me

People who have been reading me (there are very few of them, though I seek more people, to share stuff with) know what I write, when I write, why I write and how I write. For someone reading me for the first few times, it might not have yet struck. For them, let me say a few words:


I do not write to showoff my literary skills. My poems, whenever I have written them, are a direct consequence of my state at that moment. I do not know various poetic transforms, and neither am I much interested in them. For me, blogging is a platform of plain and simple writing, unlike many for whom it is a platform to caress their authorial ego. Not that I don't like high flown poems or prose, but I feel a substantial part of it is born out of a fucktard's ego. Also, this should not be mistaken for me not knowing people who write excellent language. I have such friends, and I really respect them, because, I am sure, I do not stand anywhere near to their capability of weaving magic with words. I am a simple shepherd who knows where his sheep are heading to, and where to get the daily fodder from. He does not care how they look like. So, as far as I am concerned, I just write what I feel. And I write because it gives me peace and satisfaction. Nothing more, nothing less.

Anyway, this post highlights a lesson that I learnt today. I must say, I have been pestering myself to learn some new things, like a language, an instrument etc. from the past two months, and all I end up learning is this lesson. A lesson which defines where I am wrong in my life. 



Today, my kid brother celebrates his 20th birthday. I am not used to being home during his birthday because for the past 5 years, I have always been in Dehradun. This time, however, I was at home. I kept a reminder yesterday for 11.30 pm, to remind me that I have to wish him exactly at 12. Along with that, I also kept a reminder that I have to put some clothes for wash. Both reminders went off perfectly. I would not write on how much I am dependent on reminders, but why I am so, would probably be understood from the rest of the post.

I woke up today to the roar of the rain. Before I knew, my brother was ready to go out with his friends to a distant water park. We completed the Pooja according to the rituals and had breakfast. Mom left for office. In a moment, he too, sprang up and was ready to leave. His ever smiling face and the sumptuous contentment on it suits him. He left, and me and Dad had the full day beckoning us. We went upstairs, and got busy. He with books, I with sleep.

I must brief you about my present scenario here. I am about to join my first job in a month, have one of my dearest exams coming up at the same time and have been like this for the past two months. I am fostering fierce desires of accomplishing several hobbies, like learning the guitar, and several others, for the past three months, and have achieved only 40 percent of it. To equate this to my inefficiency would be somewhat wrong because when you are inefficient, you hardly realise it, and you can't do much about it as it is instilled in your basic framework of nature. This, however is an epidemic spread in me. I am pretty much conscious and aware of the fact that I am not doing anything when I have to do so much, but alas, it doesn't seem to get sorted out. This consumes all my thoughts and energy in entirety, making me think fucking intensely and ceremoniously for the past so many days and months, throbbing my mind with grief, frustration, confusion and apathy, and I end up criticising myself every night and sleeping with an unhappy heart and a splintered mind.

Now, why did I narrate this. This is because today, as like other days, my thoughts were fluttering incessantly since I woke up at around 1 pm. I began studying, had lunch and again studied for two hours or so. Then I talked on the telephone. Then I began thinking what to do next. I ended up reading a magazine that had been on my fucking "too-due" list. I managed to get hold of the guitar for some time, and again ended up thinking that "I could not use my full potential today" and submitted to the despair and went downstairs for dinner. 

Post dinner, my mom calls me in the kitchen and says "You did not get a card for him. You were at home the whole day. Wo hamesha lata hai sabke liye. It's still 9.30pm only". 

And fuck. I lost it. In all my "soul searching" and crap I forgot to buy the kid a gift. I took the keys of the car, and let me tell you, all the way from putting the ignition on, searching frantically for one damn shop to be open, finalising on his dream deo, getting it packed from a Cake Parlour and coming back and putting the ignition off - I was just wondering and cursing myself as hard as I could.



Only because of my shitty thoughts, I am preoccupied every moment. Only because of my perpetual frustrations, I hardly think of anything else. On being inquired, I shamelessly resort to the reason of my studies (which even I know is hardly anything, because I am just all alone the whole day) and my routine going haywire. Not that they are not important, they are. And I would continue with them, because I have a frigging exam coming up. But the world does not end there. 

I feel addicted to these thoughts. They just don't seem to go away. Every moment, I feel like I have lost out on my target and this develops stress beyond what you can even imagine. What you can imagine, rather should imagine, is that I am living with all this for the past several months. Every single day. Imagine my state of mind. Although, even with such fiery helplessness every moment, I have maintained my apparent sobriety. 

Why do we think? Why do we even allocate a tiny bit of our daily life to worries? If not for those idiotic confusions happily playing with my sanity every fucking day, and making me confident of being a psycopath, I would not have forgotten to buy him a gift. A small gesture of love, but makes a big difference when you don't make it. It is not worth to worry when you miss out on the essentials that your life is supposed to be made of. You might not be happy with your today, but that does not cost you much. What costs you a fortune, is if your "today" is not happy with you.

Our lives are getting shorter by the moment, and idiots like me spend the time worrying. I don't profess "Live-carefree-and-enjoy" theory. That looks amicable in books, and should remain embedded there only. When you are talking of actual life, it does come with a host of pressures and problems. All I am thinking now is that all those pressures and troubles should not secretly nibble and gnaw down the real moments of life. Those things, that would run like a slideshow in front of your eyes when you would be gripping strongly to your bed in your last few breaths, or if lucky, to the hand of someone close.



( To my kid brother, I would not say sorry to you. For it's not my fault as neither you nor I were used to being together on your birthday for the past five years. But yes, I am surely thankful for this day as I learnt something of importance you can't realise. )

Thursday, August 9, 2012

A Letter to Ms. Life

Dear Ms Life,

First of all, do not take the use of "Dear" literally.

I am here to write to you about certain things that I have in me, but deserve to be on your face. This letter in no way is a reflection of what I show to you on my outer self. This is something that's embossed deep in subconsciousness. You do not see that, because it's hardly visible. What is strange is that you do not even make a feeble attempt to see it.

Anyway, let's start off. I would like you to take note of a few things that you might not know about me. I am a person, who has a huge world of his own around him. I am not a favourite of the group. I am not the talk of the town. And I do not attempt or even fractionally wish to become that. I am happy with myself and the pool of buddies I have. Umm, actually not really happy. You hardly let me be. 

When I am home, I have parents around. I know they love me beyond measures. I have been raised like a normal boy should be raised. In fact, I would like to say it was just a lot more than that. This is because, when a mother gives birth to her child, she never expects anything to go wrong. My mother and father also did not expect anything unforeseen. But, alas, you failed them (and me) at that moment itself. So, the effort that is required for a normal couple to raise their child could not prove enough for my parents. It took my mother around double the time, and a jobless time I must say, to raise me to the level other kids get raised in half that time.

My schooling was a bumpy ride in the beginning. Nothing could prevent me from being treated like a second class citizen at school at the beginning. Kids, seniors, juniors and even the damned faculty ensured that I succumb to their remarks every day after school. All thanks to you, for bringing me as a different in this world. Still I moved on. Things improved upon at later stages of my school life, like around class 9th. A shocker as this might be to you, but I did exceptionally well. Also, in class 10th. Class 11th saw me taking Biology as my optional. As it is known famously, the academics grilled me to the core in that class, and I lost sheen as a classic performer. I picked up in class 12th, but the performance was meagerly well. All this time, apart from academics, I had firmly set foot at basketball and singing. I passed out school with an image of an all rounder. 

And there, you woke up. Probably you could not bear my fight to what you did to me at my birth. You could not understand how I could pick myself up from the bottom and get to the top. So you decided to mess yourself up for me. 

Being a medical aspirant, I had my only focus at medicine as my career. I must tell you, as you might already know, that we are not of any Ambani or Tata or Gates descent. We also are not extremely deficient in resources and facilities. A middle class, or probably just upper middle class family you could say. So, with a restrained hand, I was financed for my coaching classes. But alas, as you had woken up, you made it sure I do not make it to any medical school, whatsoever. So I couldn't. Not that I am blaming you completely for it, but this was what happened. And you were right there, watching me. Next, you taught me good lessons during the year I dropped to prepare again. I learnt a good part of my lessons during that time. Alone, with all my friends joining different colleges, I had to hide you from the world. You were not looking any beautiful at all.

Second attempt, I cleared five exams. But then, I got a good alternative of a different course. I joined that. A good decision I must say. And I ensured that you changed your attire and start looking beautiful. You tried that, and I could feel you. You smelled good. You felt good. During my college, you were somewhat ugly in the beginning, but later on you decided to give me some respite from your apathy. You turned to being awesome. And I fell in love with you.

I stayed away from home for the 5 nearly perfect years of my college. I loved coming back during the vacations. However, you did not let me feel that you were conspiring of an entirely different agenda for me under my nose. The welcome and the stay at home used to be like in a perfect family. That was because it used to be short, though this was left for a later date for me to realise it. Nothing was in a disarray. Five years passed like breeze. After securing an excellent placement in a well reputed company, half of my goals were achieved. You brought me as a less fortunate in this world. But I, being the most different from the crowd, grew to become the most sought after.

However, your agenda came to surface later on. It has been 3 months now that I am at home, waiting for my joining which would be another 2 months later. I did not realise that staying away from home, from my parents, and my younger brother who was not unfortunate like me at birth (Touchwood, God forbid), would change the affection that I got from them. The point of view that my family had towards me, changed to  slightly formal. Today, when I stand in front of them I feel less loved. Living on my own, struggling on my own, I rose to achieve what I never thought I would. This probably developed a habit in me of fighting on my own, losing on my own and winning on my own. So, it was like staying on my own. But I feel, as if staying away from them, made me more separate, rather than more self reliant. I am looked at as if living in "Secrecy" than living on my own. My brother does not experience any of such vibes at home. He is relaxed and he is dealt with relaxations. I, being the elder son, is dealt with reservations.My social networking sites, are casually surfed by them. They later on tell me that what ever they do, they have done it in their life and that they are totally cool with it. I  don't have a problem with them peeping in, but I have a problem in the fact that I abuse there, I have fun with my college people and you don't abuse in front of your elders do you? So when they read that, it feels really awkward. The issue is, why this curiosity in my life, why not my brother's? I am questioned every now and then. I have no idea why. You are becoming nasty again, and believe my, I am not liking that even one damn bit.

Which card did you play now? I had won over all the troubles you threw at me, and now this is such a confusing move you made. Now how do I get around you? Why do I feel strange with my own family? This is a great deal mind you, because they matter to me. Like, a lot.

Here, I must admit that I am saying this because I am feeling this. It might be true, it might be false. I know my mother. She still gets berserk even if I have a simple headache. My Dad, is still bossy over if I do something wrong. If he would have not cared, he would not have uttered even a single word. Then why am I made to feel this disconnection? Why am I made to feel that I have done a big wrong, or have even sinned for that matter of fact? Why am I treated with suspicion? Why can't I just be loved like always? 

I do not know if you would be able to answer all this. And as trifle it might seems, it is not. Come, wear my shoes. You'll feel the bite. I love them beyond infinity, and probably they also do. But I am being pushed in the corner. I am being sidelined. You have been one tough ride, and I feel good to have been able to win over the troubles you forced down my throat. But I cannot live with ignorance of the loved ones. I don't care about the world, and I live in my own. However, there are some people who are bound to your breath. Without whom, you cannot imagine your existence. For me, my family is that. 

So, if it's really hard for you to feel what is being cornered suddenly, what is being ignored and what is losing your place, just imagine when your rival, Ms. Death comes knocking at your door, displaces you of your throne, and shows you the middle finger. That's how I am feeling right now.










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