When you love something.........

Absence of something sometimes makes us crave for it… may it or may it not hold any significance in our lives. We may want to have it by our side, let it just sit there without being of any use to us. Absence and more so, pronounced absence is the mist that makes the free flow of thoughts in mind difficult.

What we like belongs to us and what belongs to us should sit right by our side for ready reference. When you like something, one half of you tries to own it and convinces the other gullible half that it is already yours. Ancient Hindu wise men had realized this mind-play long ago and ever since have tried to preach about detachment and contentment through scriptures.

A variation of this peculiar behaviour is when you like something or someone and assume that (it) should belong to you. Repeated telling convinces the mind that you do deserve governance over it in lieu of the love you oh so quietly shower on it. But love, dahling, is exceptional. It cannot be governed, it cannot be generated and in some instances, it does not exist at all.

Love deserves more than it gets but, it is true only when it goes through dismay. Proving your love true is insignificant and without proving your love’s mettle, you don’t deserve it. My love for paradoxes doesn’t stop here, but I should as I am getting late and you are getting bored.

Love,

Abhyudaya

Cerebral Warts

This post is titled "cerebral warts" because it constitutes of warts that are.... well... "cerebral" as in "the virtual outgrowths of thoughts from my tiny intelligence".... yea baby! I like abstract terms.

Ok, time for the outgrowths to show up-

As someone brought it to my notice-- I have something in me that lets people share bits of their own selves with me. So, pondering over what "it" might be, I am about to get lost in this gigantic cerebral jigsaw puzzle. Come with me and I'll try 'n show you around what goes on in my brain factory. The main difficulty is going to be that the narrator of the scene is the same person who wrote the scene i.e. my brain so, the views are going to be very biased and the outlook is going to be *very* restricted. You can compare this post to a painter describing his own art while having in the back of his mind the fact that every critic might be seeing his art differently.

Anyways, enough abstract stuff. Here is what I think-

The reason why I think folks are comfortable being their own selves with me (I am not sure how to put it in a better way) is because I wear no faces and I, contrary to popular practice, enjoy the path more than the destination.

As Ruskin Bond (my favorite author) believes and I'll paraphrase ('cause I don't remember his exact words):- the fun is not in reaching the cliff quickly and coming back down with another mission in mind; it is in enjoying your path and appreciating the butterflies AND the rough rocks on your way.

My point hasn't come out clear yet. My point was that I love and enjoy my mistakes as much as my successes (rocks and butterflies example). Of course, it feels bad when you goof up but if you let it be known to others that you've goofed up or are about to goof up... something.... some virtual energy gets transmitted into you. The energy roots from others who know that you are prone to embarrassing/ boring/ weird situations just like they are. C'mon, that's what makes us humans.... we all are (prone to breaking down in situations of different kinds). This energy that others give you, strengthens you and provides you with the courage to stand up again and fight.

But, the transfer is not a one-sided affair. Once you receive the courage to make mistakes, others hold you in debt (not consciously). They make you pay for it by watching them make mistakes. The energy you give them lets them laugh at themselves which is the ultimate favour they can do for their own selves and also others.

Please note that this is not a conscious decision. This cannot be a conscious decision, actually. I did not plan anything, neither did I think before making friends. Cerebral warts have a limit and they cannot grow out and show up on your head. It just happened and I am lucky to have it happen with myself and my friends.

So yea, next time someone calls you "stupid", "an idiot" or "silly".... I guess, you should take it as a compliment.

OK.... I guess, it's enough for now. If you've made it till this end of my post, there is something seriously wrong with you (which is a good thing).

Comments saved that later got deleted by mistake-

Dazrah said...

I am overjoyed to know that there is something seriously wrong with me & am literally giddy in having you as my friend! Great Wart…thanks for sharing

2:52 PM, December 04, 2006

Anonymous said...

I have something seriously wrong too.........
I love your writing...I expext to say someday I knew you when. Hugs & bloggy Love =)

6:11 PM, December 04, 2006

To take a break or not to take a break

(This post is a copy of my original post on Yahoo! 360)



When you're singing a song, painting a scenery, playing a game or are just plain madly in love with someone; you don't care whether you're going right or wrong until you're done unless you pause and ponder midway. It's only after your brain is done releasing creative juices that your senses start evaluating the product.

I've found this pattern to be true on numerous occasions. Your effort and your evaluation of your own effort are never parallel. (Is it the perfectionist in me speaking?). At least, I find this to be true for myself. However, the situation is the reverse when I am in the process of putting in my effort. In that slot of time, everything I am doing is hundred percentile. When I am painting a picture or singing a song; for me, it's the best way it could be done! Perhaps this is what they call- "Living in the moment." .... or is it? But as soon as I pause; comparisons, criticisms, analyses and shadows of different kinds step in.



That's the reason I don't want to take pauses. Well, I don't want to but somehow, I end up with lots of them. Pausing and pondering, thinking whether I am doing it right or not for which I need to change my perspective; perhaps, exchange it with some other person 'cause from my own perspective, no matter what I do- I am always right. Well, maybe not always... but the perspective is mine, isn't it? So yea...

For me, a perfect state to achieve would be when I can be satisfied with my work even after I have finished creating it. That still remains a target to be achieved and somehow, I feel good about not attaining it so early. Perfectionism is good but I am not sure about perfection itself.

Let's not be so perfect. Let's make mistakes, not purposely of course but, let's be happy that there is still scope to improve. This is like a self-note because I too, just want to be perfect. (Who doesn't?)

When I picture or imagine something in mind before putting it down on paper, I feel a compulsion to bring the picture to reality as if it is a responsibility of sorts. Not being able to do that isn't a happy feeling but I could live with that unhappy feeling only if I knew whether to be satisfied that I at least tried or be unsatisfied that it isn't perfect. Maybe this dilemma is a good thing- an artistic force or power of sorts... or maybe I have to get over this dilemma to get to the *next level*. Darn! Here comes another dilemma!

Ok... enough of the babble!

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!

My celeb Look Alikes!!

Crushed Again!

Well, this is a follow up post to what I wrote earlier in this series but, I realize that it has been a while since the last time I wrote something here so, no one is actually going to read it. So, let me just to talk to myself about my childhood crushes. Two down, many more to go! Let's begin-

Priyanka
Well, she never really was a crush of mine but, now as I look back and think, I realize that she perhaps was mmm.... or maybe not. Tomboyish, intelligent and confident is what comes to mind when I think of her. Again, as I think more, I think of her as a friend more than a crush; loving her doesn't really come to mind.... so yea, she was perhaps just a great friend; well, she wasn't that close to me but I think she thinks like a guy which is good.

I almost saw every girl in my class cry but never her. She dressed like boys, had a boyish haircut but, you could tell her from a million boys. She had a million dollar smile and cute deep dimples to go with it. She was daughter of my English teacher who I absolutely revere.
When I think of her, I think of the day our results were announced and there were some mistakes made by our class-teacher Mr. S K Gupta in the marks calculation. Apparently, she went for re-calculation and discovered that she got more marks than me!

At the school gate, she told me that she was the class-topper after the re-evaluation. I don't remember my response to that but, I am sure it wasn't negative because I was too humble to wrestle for marks. She wanted me to meet the class teacher and clear things up but, I didn't pay attention. She grabbed me by wrist as the class-mates frowned, smiled and laughed and literally dragged me to the class-teacher. No, she didn't over-power me; I was just too taken aback to put up resistance.

After her father got transferred and she moved, I almost forgot about her, then one day, came a phone call- and her picture flashed before my eyes. How did she (I mean her Dad) get my number? I don't know but I dare not to forget her again.

Lakshmi
Never really got to interact with her but I grew real possessive of her (without talking to her EVAR!) in a short period of one year. She was beautiful, and perhaps this was a physical attraction but who cares? I liked her. I'll remember her most for the silent days. When she was the only girl to come to school and I was one of the only boys. Exams were near so, everybody else was bunking classes. I'd mimic teachers and Hindi film heroes and she'd, despite her futile attempts to curb the smile, grin from ear to ear... looking in the other direction, trying not to be noticed.


I'd secure seats near her in the library, laboratory, computer lab just to catch that one moment. I was always good with eye-contacts, I think.

More later....

Crushed!

Love is a special feeling. Of its various forms, involving most hormonal and heart matters is the one towards the opposite sex as in a "love-relationship".

A preliminary stage of this love is infatuation or attraction where you are obsessed with a person's charm or beauty and cannot think beyond him/her. I did have a few crushes and still carry fond memories of all my infatuations.

Ankita
She was a fair girl with a charming smile from the "B" section of my class in school. I wasn't quite a ladies' man and although a bright student, I couldn't muster up the courage to even look any girl in the eye and tell her that I'd really like to be friends with her, leave alone trying to talk to Ankita.

I didn't quite notice until my maths teacher Mr. Patkar brought it to our notice that she was a really cute girl. He asked kids to sing once in free-time and she took the center-stage and sang- "Neend churayi meri" from the movie album "Ishq" and I was just taken aback by her charming voice, confidence and attitude.

It wasn't a big deal for her though. She was very grounded and level-headed for a beautiful-unapproachable kind of persona; I say this as she did respond to my subliminal eye-contacts positively and talked to me whenever she met me.


We used to commute to school by the same wagon and I've lost count of how many times had she tried to thaw the ice of shyness between us and how many times had I re-constructed the ice-wall and drawn a line of uneasiness while starting talks with her. I am not embarrassed to say that she did play a major role in bringing me out of my hermit shell and making me feel comfortable with girls... the extremely beautiful ones that is. One of the moments that I still have with myself is when she sat beside me in the congested wagon and I felt like she was leaning over me... God! I can give my life to go back that beautiful moment again... it is an extraordinary memory, the ever-smiling princess sitting beside the mysterious loner. Her submissive yet authorative figure still remains in my memories fresh as dew-drops on fresh green grass.


I know there's a huge probability of my crush being a one-sided affair but, I still prefer to believe that she liked me too. We hadn't talked to each other much but I did realise that she was very comfortable talking to me.

Later on, I realised that she was the daughter of a leading politician of our area which instead of deterring me in my mission to marry her (laughing-out-loud), had me dreaming of having the rich politician as my father-in-law.

But, as time passed by, my shyness got the best of me, our chemistry faded and she too, like other typical Indian small-town girls grew mindful of not mixing up with boys. She changed, I didn't!

I still remember an incident (which by the way has no meaning in this context) when I was sitting alone with her in the tempo-wagon, one hot summer afternoon, returning from the school. Like other public transport vehicles, the wagon had a steel rod to hold on while it hopped its way through the pot-holes in the streets. Seeing her sitting alone, I started acting macho-macho and behaved like I neither cared nor needed to grab hold of the steel rod as the wagon started jittering on the pot-holes. All of a sudden, the lights went out and I grew a severe headache in my head in that tacky and sweaty afternoon. Yes, I had hit my head on the steel rod and I highly doubt that it went unnoticed by her. She acted like she didn't see it but couldn't hide that smile...

Richa
Another girl that stands out of my memory from approximately a hundred crushes is Richa. A perfect smile, short height and a superb confidence in her ways are things that I remember her for. I genuinely think that she liked me which is the biggest point of attraction as far as my thought rays go.

As a newbie in my new school, I was the subject of speculations among all the classmates of mine. My first face-to-face encounter with Richa was a great one- I knew her as a girl who eloquently delivered speeches in assembly and was quite bold and honest in her demeanours.

Once as the bell rang and students moved (ran) out of their classrooms, my hindi teacher (who I hated for his ignorance by the way), asked me to go after Richa and tell her that he's calling her. I waded through the crowd and told Richa to meet the teacher and went on with my stroll towards the school gate. She, after listening to whatever brief message the teacher wanted to convey, caught up with me and said Hi.

I looked around and made sure that the Hi was directed to me. She giggled and said- "Yes, I am talking to you." Her tone was friendly yet humorous... I, as someone who wasn't used to the words of greeting, returned her greeting in a quivering voice. I always thought that Hi, Hello, Good morning etc were so plastic and unuseful expressions but, that incident changed my view... a little. We chatted for a while, it was raining, she was smiling, I was... well.. happy.

It is not that I am a loser or thick-skulled who shivers in presence of girls, I just am never the one to break the ice first and leave my fun-side open only for very a few people.

Anyways, she went on her way, I walked towards my destination- the paths separated... but when I looked back, she was smiling and looking at me. My heartbeat raced faster, I smiled, she waved her hand and said "bye". I choked again. She patiently waited, I raised my hand too and whispered "bye" which I don't think reached her ears but made her giggle again... ah! perfect smile.

To be continued...