Of some ‘untold’ things ..

Can anyone in this world forget our adolescent time: the time when we force ourselves to  loose the child-innocence and start acting like big people, the time when we are embarrassed when our  mamma calls us baby in front of our friends, the time when we get conscious about how we look eternally, the time when we appreciate nature’s gift such as rains ,sceneries’, the time when we believe in those fairy-tale stories and trust that those are for real and imagine ourselves to be the protagonists and wait for our prince charming or our lady love. It’s the time when we first experience that moment of our life, the moment when we realize that there are swarm of butterflies that flutters in us as we see that person .
 I’d experienced this fluttering for the first time while I was in grade eight when I saw this boy, let’s call him A , who fitted right into the expression ‘tall, dark and handsome’. He was not that kind of a major “head-turner”,neither do I, but yet there was this unexplained vibe(oh yeah, yeah, that Indian movies effect as u are already thinking) whenever I saw him. I sort of found him little funnily weird as he had a little larger ears which didn’t sync that well with his other wise usual round small face. He was on the other section and  I met him during one of those art classes where in both the sections were combined. I met him eye to eye when I’d accidentally stumbled upon his book and wanted to return it to him. I couldn’t resist myself in staring at him for quite sometime while I felt there were those people playing violins besides me( yep,from that same movie :)), and came back to my senses, when he’d called my name a little louder. I did a little background check got to know some of his details like his family, friends , interests and so from some of our common friends. From then on , I made sure that I didn’t dare to bunk the otherwise boring classes and also tried very hardly to make myself omnipresent. I spent days thinking about him and grabbed every opportunity to go in and come out of his class, sometime genuine and many a times feigned. For my friends I came as a surprise shocker as the friend whom they saw as a very shy, timid and not-so-interesting girl doing some crazy things and finally became their “laughing stock” for all their presumably ‘funny’ jokes. But nothing tugged me down and I was acting even more crazier just so I could get back at them. I tried all possible way to impress him but the introvert that I  am and also by some fear of rejection, the boy obviously had no clue about it. This little crush of mine came to a logical end when his family moved out of town half way thro’ the year for some reasons which I apparently came to know thro’ some of our common friends. Though it hit very hard at that moment, somehow it did not make that profound impact that I thought it would. Just as the popular adage goes, time became the perfect healer and his memories and thoughts blurred and today, I don’t even have a clue of what & where he is now. It was more like a passing clouds that poured down heavily and evanesce off in the sky without perturbing the flow of life. After this , apparently there were couple of others that just didn’t even last for few days , but all of which were untold before I really understood what the real ‘love’ meant. Though it’s funny now, but if I  could just sit back and get a little introspective about it I cannot help but to think on the ignorance I’d at that point of time in thinking that ‘this was it’  and go little over board without even realizing on what and how relationships works. As time and age progressed my ideas on relationships bettered and today am surely in the best place I could have ever imagined with the love of my life with dearth of any repent.

PS : I’d written this for blogadda’s contest, but understably am late by two days ,nevertheless thought of posting. Thanks for blogadda for making me to reminisce my good old days.

What to write??

The one thing that has been consistent of this space is my INCONSISTENCY and I’ve no qualms in saying so. Am I ashamed of this or do I attribute it to some mundane or clichéd  excuses like “No time, been busy” ,”life has not taken any earth shattering change to write about” and such like. But nothing of that sorts. It was my pure inability to translate my feelings to words. It’s as simple as that. Not a single day  had passed without me staring into this blank page wanting to tell so much and make my voice heard leading to typing something and  back  spacing it instantaneously. By the time I perform this ritual of write -and- delete - and-write , the moment would have surpassed blurring the thinking process further. Am not a prolific writer , for that instance, not even an average writer, to get inspired by scenic beauties or flower blossoming to write creatively and bring those wonderful moments before the reader’s eyes. If anything it’s only my thoughts that rule this space. There were umpteen number of thoughts that was meandering thro’ my mind , several of which would surpass as it comes and many of which sustained creating a profound impact in me . There have been instances where I’ve let my inundating feeling to pass by  unnoticed owing to the repercussions  that might follow. That’s when a small identity crisis crippled, as in, this space which was meant to be exclusive for me , which was started with a distinct  motive of expressing “honestly“, should itself be estranged. I didn’t know! I didn’t have answers to the myriad questions rising in my mind. But there was a point where I really felt the need for the resilience and watch the world pass by  as a mere  spectator with no strings attached to it. It was quite an experience to watch things at a distant. This process was really a great learning curve and has changed my perspective of life. Life at a distance was heaven but at the same time it was funnily weird at times. I really have so much to say and write but as of now am restraining myself to write more so as to learn from the world more.

Am I handicapped?

When it comes to writing, or, by and large expressing?? This is probably one of the questions that I’ve been contemplating in the recent past but in vain to counter the thoughts. The long dearth from this little space of mine stands testament to it. Not that my life has become less eventful ever since I turned to be a home maker or have not  blinkered about the events happening  around the world, as a matter of fact I’ve loads of things  to be shared, to fret on,  to be contented, to reminisce about and so on. But yet, when I would think of articulating the same I would profoundly feel disconnected between my thought process and the sense of expression albatrossing me. Having said that, guess what’s my challenge for this year :- To overcome this disability of mine and I hope to recuperate from it soon.

Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna..

No more those long hours of drowning in to the system; No more of those frantic calls from the clients; No more gossiping with friends over the cup of coffee; No more of those long sometimes sensical and many a times non-sensical meetings and there are many more which could be added to the never-ending list. It’s for a life of about three years to which I’d bid adieu yesterday with a heavy heart. Yes, now you are now reading this space of an educated, skilled unemployed youth :). I was fresh out of college when I'd joined work and I was this all this over- enthusiastic girl who was all geared up for a new challenge to face. Right from then life was a roller coaster ride with sea of joyful , cherishing and at times depressing waves touching me. It has made me what am today. And this phase of life did give in that confidence and it DID bring that pride in me. On the flip side, like any other it had its own unfavourable effects on me. There are a lot of things in life that I’d given a miss, some which are irrevocable, irreconcilable. I crossed the threshold of my most imperative phase of life with a hasten. I’d become work alcoholic without even me becoming conscious about it. Under stably, I cannot blame work, as in, for it as should have been ‘me’ who should have struck a balance between work and life. On the whole it was a real ‘experience’ which can be looked back and cherish those once-for-all moments.
And that also means that there’s a new beginning not only on the professional side but on the geographical side which was the sole reason behind this ‘unemployed’ state of mind. Yes, I would be soon go away leaving behind my motherland; my culture; my heritage on the whole.

More to come on this .... :)

If only I could..

Not sure if I've ever posted a forward on my blog. But after receiving this, I couldn't resist posting one which reflects the golden phase of my life :) Without much of my rants or prattles what ever.. here's what I'd received as a mail but mirrored my thoughts and re-kindled my past :)

Remembering my classmates,after few years,
My eyes were filled with tears,
Everyone now is busy a lot,
No one escaped from detiny's plot

Saw the girl whome once I thought as my best friend,
oops today she is somebody else's girl friend,
After months, remembered about her for a little while,
Heard she is happy, that made me smile.

Project reviews to Campus Interviews,
Nicknames to last bench games,
cultural rehersald to love proposals,
short term crushes to class room blushes.

Everything is fresh in our mind,
wish life could just rewind,
Let's laugh, play and rejoice,
Once again become college guys.

Chatting and laughing, we all were in elation,
till the painful moment of separation,
when it was time to part,
we returned with a heavy heart.

Today life is full of commitments,
And too many worries,
But those cherished moments,
Will live forever in our memories!!!!

If only I could go back on a time machine and relive those moments..

Sigh!!!

Revelation of Parenthood

I was and did comprehend a lot of mommy blogs and have been flabbergasted by the way they would articulate. They write with so much of ardour, warmth which attaches a dignity to the already esteemed mother hood. There are quite a few blogs which quiver my inner urge to be one myself such is the zeal with which they write. I’d always deliberated that it’s only moms who would express their love to their offspring and Dads are less expressive. And not long before did I stumble here and subsequently leading to read this changed my entire perspective of this rationale. Fathers are for eternity imperative right?

There's something like a line of gold thread running through a man's words when
he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough
for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love
itself. ~John Gregory Brown, Decorations in a Ruined Cemetery, 1994

Reading few others, I couldn’t stop myself in thinking about my own dad (though this might be like off the topic). While my mother did carry the entire burden in raising us while dad was solely the bread winner of the family. Thanks to his marketing job, he was always on his heels living mostly on the intercity trains and buses for a long term official tour making a rare guest appearance. But as time conceded and when I was growing into this ‘rationale’ girl or rather woman, I did appreciate how my father had helped mom in raising us in a roundabout way. He has and probably will never get in the way in any of my mom’s decision more than ever if it involving us. He will also not impede on any of our own lives. He has always let us been ourselves and has never tried to change things in us. True to the words of an eminent persona, my father did not tell us how to live but lived and let me watch him do it. Though we, or at least I, did miss the charisma of the father figure at home but yet doubtless, I’ve a space for myself where I could dispense out emotion, if only my father was introduced to these platforms, he could have been even more articulate.

Being Me – II

Time has flown at a fast pace since I had written this. With another two years off, this year yours truly meekly hits the quarter to the century. Yes, twenty five long years of my subsistence. And true to the quote of Shakespeare:

***There was a star danced, and under that was I born***

this star was born when the other stars danced…:)
More to come but as of now ….. It’s just a very Happy Birthday to Me… :)

A self revelation :)

You Are Ceramics

You are open to the world and it's possibilities. You are able to start something without knowing how it will end. You trust your intuition above everything else. Going with your gut often works out. You believe that every day objects can and should be art. The best art allows ordinary life to be more stylish and beautiful.

What Type of Art Are You?