Today and Tomorrow

Fast forwarding the time

To one without any tether

I see them both

Happy and together

Laughing and playing

Walking hand in hand

A life stretched out before them

Forever that spans

A life that they dreamt

A life that they wished

All theirs to share

All theirs to cherish

Free from the mind

Which binds, destroys

Amongst kin and kind

Blessed with joy

They learn and grow

With time on their side

Every moment a gift that

They were denied

Forever and beyond

With joy and sorrow

Together they walk

Today and tomorrow

What if or Why not ?

They ask,

“How can you be happy about something knowing that it is not yours to keep?

You know things will not last, you know things will end. Why would you want to experience that? Eventually you would miss it, you might regret it. What good will it do to you to attach yourself to something knowing it will be taken away from you? Why choose to feel its absence by accepting its presence? Why not avoid momentary happiness and ensure safety from eventual misery? Don’t say you won’t be sad, you might. Why take that chance?”

I ask,

  

“Should I not enjoy weekends because Monday would eventually come? Should I not take a holiday in some beautiful place because it cannot be my home? Should I not eat that chocolate knowing it will cease to exist the moment I do so? What good would it do to me if I avoid knowing every moment of happiness, goodness that life has to offer me knowing it might not be forever?

With the definite knowledge of Death, do I embrace life or avoid it?

I know it will end. So, should I not live? Should I simply exist till I do not? Should I not enjoy the momentary happiness that life provides me before my life and I go our separate ways, wherever that would be?

Neither the good things last nor the bad ones. We usually, voluntarily do not choose the bad, and mostly we need to put efforts to choose the good, shouldn’t we make full use of every chance that we get to experience it all? Shouldn’t we go that extra mile to make every instant of whatever we have worthwhile? Nothing lasts forever, but then, what would be the point if none of it was worth lasting?

Given a choice, I would prefer asking ‘Why not?’ instead of ‘What if?’ ”

I made mine. Did you ?

“I knew it like destiny, and at the same time, I knew it as choice.”

A friend of mine recently said, “Stupidity is a choice.” True that. But, then so is intelligence. So is control, and so is letting go. The problem is that, in real time, you can just make the choice; the categories are always decided in retrospect. Right now, at this moment, the choice that I have made could be both a mark of my control, or my desire to just let go. The thing is that, right now, it doesn’t matter. It will later, and then we could categorize it.

Imagine someone holding you, and asking you to fall back, to let your hair down. You are scared that you’ll fall and they assure you that you won’t. You trust and let go, but it is their control that holds you from falling. So in that moment, what was the choice? One of letting go or one of control?

So, maybe the choice isn’t always that clear, or maybe it is a matter of perspective. Which would be the case either ways. So I guess, after a point, you should stop mulling it over, make a choice and then own up to it eventually.

“There are no safe choices. Only other choices.”

To The Other Side ...

“Howzzzzzzaaaatttt?!?”

Okay, here I was trying to code my brains off on a date with Hugh Jackman in Hogwarts…..and I start playing cricket with kids? No, something was not right. I try to bury myself in my pillows and cushions, but I cannot sleep anymore. The kids are loud, beyond loud. So, I wake up and within minutes I am busy preparing lunch with my flatmates. Well, breakfast time was long gone. Again the yelling, screeching starts, “ Auntyyyyyyyy… Auntyyyyyyyyeeeeeeee….”

“Who is this God-forsaken woman who isn’t listening to them, why can’t she just answer them and get them to calm down???”  I go out, all determined to talk to the deaf woman. Turns out, the loud-speakers, I mean, the kids were calling us. Their ball was in our balcony, and WE WERE THE DEAF AUNTIES. One of the cons of shifting to a ground floor flat with a balcony is that you have listen to these kids scream all day long, while their parents happily sleep through the weekend. So here I am, with flour on my hands and face, trying to digest the fact that I might have gone to the other side. I might have become the neurotic woman who gets irritated with all the noise of cricket on a Sunday morning instead of the one making it.

“Did you just call me aunty ?”

“Ok. Dadiji?” said the loudest kid of the lot.

“Ok, so you don’t want the ball. Fine I’ll just lock it in my cupboard.”

“Fine, fine. Didi can we please have it?”

I handed it over.

“Thanks, dadiji.”

Kind of expected. Anyhow, I stay irritated and continue with Mission Flour. Once I am done, I decide to go out and buy some stuff. Grocery, rent slips, the works. Wow, I reallly am becoming an aunty I think. As soon as I step out, loudest kid of the lot starts with his screeching. “Dadiji is here.” I really wouldn’t have liked him 10 years back, right now, I just say, “Right. I’ll be back, you bowl and I’ll bat, we’ll talk then.”

“Please don’t insult cricket.”

Ok this kid is not just getting on, but jumping on my nerves.

“We’ll see, try to learn how to bowl till then, all I’ve seen are either wides or balls that end up in our balcony.”

The other kids seem to like me, so they cheer me on. Turns out loudest kid of the lot isn’t too popular with his friends.

I come back with a pepsi for all the kids. Ask them their names, Loudest kid of the lot is as cheeky as ever, and replies, “My name is Khan. Saif Ali Khan.” On noticing the pepsi, he tells me his name finally and we start playing. First ball four runs. Second, six. Third ball, I get hit on the face with a bouncer, and yell, “Oh ****!” Unfortunately, all kids are very amused by my lack of control on my mouth and the guy I thought was someone’s elder brother turns out to be the father of two of the kids, he just smiles back and I am beyond embarrassed. Anyhow, putting that major slip of tongue aside, I play surprisingly well by my standards and end up scoring 18 runs. One six and three fours, and then I get out because I lose the ball, hit it over the boundary wall and it gets stuck in a tree. That is so unfair. It would have sent Navjot Singh Siddhu and Geoffrey Boycott on a hyper-fast-roobbish-commentary fit.  Anyhow, loudest kid of the lot just takes the Pepsi I bought for all of them and goes back home, while I am invited by the rest of the lot to play in the evening. 

While going back, this tiny kid, who kept calling himself Darth Vader, comes up to me all shy and cute, “Didi, you will play with us, right?” And I realise, that there is a very fine line between didi and aunty once you start working and cooking on your own. Luckily, it just took a little bit of cricket to bring me back to the side I wanted to be on.

Slimy, Stupid vs Unsuspecting Idiot

Lion: “Roaaarrrrrr” ( read as: I will eat you ) ( he won’t actually warn you, but just taking creative liberty to make a point )

Idiot: No, don’t eat me. I am a vegetarian.

If you think that just because you are nice to people, they’ll be nice to you, Congrats! You and the idiot have something in common, you could even try going out on a date or becoming BFFs or something. Anyhow, point is, most people are only nice to you because it is conventional and because it suits them at that point of time.

Some people are outright rude, and trust me they are the better kind to be associated with. The most dangerous ones are those stupid, slimy (don’t exactly know why, but this word seems perfect) ones, who’ll be all grinning and smiling, but will actually take the pettiest route to hurt/annoy you.  They are stupid enough to assume that you are stupid enough to not doubt their intentions and are stupid enough to not understand your sarcasm, and render it futile.

When I encounter such stupidity, my first natural instinct is to defend myself by sarcasm, as expected it is ineffective, because sarcasm requires intelligence, these slimy kind unfortunately or fortunately, lack that. The next is to ignore them and try to keep away, as much as possible. But. There is a very important step in between. Make sure you make the person, stupid-slimy-kind, know that you are not as stupid as them and are aware of their slime.  Preferably with an audience, if they were involved at some stage in all this slime and stupidity. This is a very important step because:

  

  1.      It ensures that the stupid-slimy-kind get a hint, (finally!) that they are not as smart as they think they are. (Surprise! Surprise!)

  2.       The unsuspecting audience is warned, unless they too are too stupid or in most cases, under some magical spell of the stupid-slimy-kind.

  3.       You make your point: “Don’t make me angry, you won’t like me when I’m angry.” The stupid-slimy-kind usually lack guts and back off, read as: they sulk, cry foul to everyone whose ears function and go around annoying other unsuspecting, idiotic souls.

  4.       Some more of the stupid-slimy-kind are warned against messing with you.

  5.       You feel slightly better off that you didn't just take crap quietly.

I have a very simple logic; I usually like people, till they give me a reason not to. Beyond that, they are just ignored, and their existence and the crap that comes with it make no difference to me. Maybe, it is a cynical way to react, but in the past few years I have learnt that this works just fine. Because unfortunately, I still am idiotic enough to expect that if I am nice to people, they’ll be nice to me.

Sshhh... Listen.

Silence, it could be the loud, inescapable, yet inaudible shriek of strain, of tension and of despair. Or it could be the calm, that you feel inside, that you feel when you are so inexplicably happy that, any noise, any sound seems inadequate to express your excitement. The first is a consequence of the shrieks, the screams, the pain , the stress that doesn't let anything else through. The second an instrument that makes every sound seem like music. Be it the happy chatter of people around you, the incessant traffic in a city bustling with life, or the giggle of a baby. 

Silence. The second kind, The happy kind. The kind that lets you think clearly. Think about all that happened, why it did, why it shouldn't have or why it was so right. Think about what you could have done differently and what you did right. Think about when and what you want to do next. Think about nothing at all. The kind that lets you feel clearly. Feel calm and excited. Feel satisfied and hungry. After a long, long time, such a silence has enveloped me. And finally, I feel so light.

There has been so much that has changed, I still haven’t gotten a grip on it. But, the biggest change of all is that I look forward to waking up, have tonnes of stories to tell at the end of the day and fall asleep as soon as I hit my bed. I’ve been so busy with all these changes that I haven’t gotten a chance to write about anything in a long, long time. I could probably write about every moment since this calm has settled in, yet right now, I really can’t. I am too busy taking it all in. Too busy making up for all that I missed when I couldn't hear or feel anything other than all the noise in my head.

Now, I feel happy. Finally. Right now, I just want to enjoy this. This being able to take in all the sounds and sights around me. The slate wiped clean, and free to be filled as and how I want to. In some time, when it all sinks in, maybe I would think about what next. Maybe then, I could write about all that is going on now. Maybe then. But now, I like this silence. I can read in peace, finally.

Later then!

No Less, No More

Just because they don’t approve, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t smile.

Just because it isn’t accepted, doesn’t mean it isn’t right.

Just because it isn’t final, doesn’t mean it can’t endure.

Just because it is hidden, doesn’t mean it isn’t pure.

It might not be the end, but what if it goes beyond?

It might not be all, but it still is much more.

More than we are taught, more than we expect

Yet, inevitably, impossible to accept

So be it, I don’t ask that either

Their approval they refuse

But, it’s happiness that I choose

For I know, however much be it

 It’s mine, all of it:

No less, No more.