Broken Strings.

I keep questioning myself everyday as the morning peels away to show the darkness within. I want answers to questions I already know hold no meaning. The meaning died with your parting footsteps, the slam of the phone, the pain that comes with rejection. The pain I felt years ago, the familiarity of which refuses to leave me alone.

The clutter of confusion surrounds me and I find peace in it. Peace in knowing that my life can take whatever route it pleases.  Peace in the unknown, the unseen and the unfelt. But the feeling of hands trying to desperately clear the mess so I can see clearly, causes me much unrest. They refuse to accept that in this chaos is the map to my next destination, the journey to which is mine alone.

These baby steps I take are often clouded by the mirage of you. And every now I then I fool myself into believing in its reality. I want to make you stay and that is when I snap out of it, the sound of the slam ringing in my ears.

How can you proclaim to know someone when you know yourself much less? Is it even possible? How can you make promises when you don’t even know if you are capable of keeping them? How can you call it love, when you have nothing to compare it against?

To never love until you know yourself, to never hate until you know them well. Criteria we never fulfilled. 

The scattered beads of unrequited love covers every inch of my soul. And on days like these my bed seems like a better place to stay in...

8 Most Awkward situations I usually find myself in.

Just the other day I attended a 'Family' party. We all know how exciting these are (yawn). Anyway, I was dragged to this pit of hell by my mother with the promise that I wouldn't have to attend another party the next week. I winced just at the thought of not accepting this deal. So off I went to the place where awkward conversations are not just necessary but quite normal. And even though it's been twenty two years since my birth my relatives are still trying to figure out whether I look more like my mother or my father. Anyway, I took a seat in the far corner of the hall hoping to escape any more cheek pinching hands and judging eye glares and wondered if  anything could be more awkward than the current situation I was in at that point. Turns out there are:

                                      

1. In elevators: Every time I step into a lift and it decides to stop at the floor below,  my gum just gets lodged into my throat. I just never know how to behave. Do I stand in front of the person? I really want to look at my reflection in the mirror behind, will it make the other people uncomfortable? Let me ask them how their day was? Why did I just sound like a duck?
I think it's because secretly we are all guilty. But why? I mean it completely makes sense why humans with perfectly working hands and legs would need carriers to move up and down.

2.When your underwear gets stuck in your butt in a public place: How many times have you gone to the toilet while shopping in a mall just to free your bum. And if you are extremely confident then you probably just did it while shopping putting the people behind you in an awkward position. Most times the washroom, or just any quiet and lonely place is so hard to find that you try to pluck your underwear out by just squirming in it.

3. Mistaking a shopper for the salesperson: Remember those days when you would accidentally dress up in black just like the sales girls at Forever 21 and then get asked  if you had size 12 in the same color. That's when you promise yourself never to wear a black tee with black jeans ever again. It was a bad idea to begin with. On the other hand maybe you mistook someone. In that case, RUN!

4. Forgetting the name of the person you met last week and bumped into again today: It doesn't even have to be last week it could even be last night, some people just don't leave any sort of lasting impression on you. However, letting them know that by even forgetting their name is well sort of awkward.

5. Describing someone as 'that fat girl' to your slightly overweight friend: Now I'm all for all sizes and shapes but sometimes when your friend asks for a description of your professor or even your hairdresser and you can't seem to remember their name (See #4) then physical descriptions do help a lot. Just remember who you are talking to and who you are trying to describe. Sometimes there is a correlation.

6. Telling your mom you are not on Facebook only to receive a friend request from her the next day: 'Pshh Facebook, too mainstream for me', you shrug and tell your mother, secretly wondering how she heard of the website you practically live on.This is one of the reasons why I am no longer active on Facebook, that is besides the obsession with the self it advocates for.

7. Agreeing with your friends when they hate on Justin Beiber music and then get caught singing along to 'Baby Baby': Guilty. Very guilty. You know those things you know you shouldn't do because people you care about will be disappointed in you. Yeah, this is worse than that. Do not give into your desires.

8. When your grandmother walks in on you when the only sexual scene in the entire movie is being played on your TV: So you decide to watch a non cheesy- war-action kind of a movie and your grandmother pops in but you don't pause the movie because you know, you are confident that you are safe. And then without a warning it appears on the screen. The 'oohs' and 'aahs' filling in the awkward silence just makes it worse.

And just as I try to think of a more awkward situation I could be in just to make myself feel better I see an old relative approaching. I should have spent all that time thinking of escape routes from awkward situation. Maybe another time.

' And the sun will set for you.'

                             

I still remember the day I finished school . How I promised myself I wouldn't cry because I was glad to get away from it all. The teachers, the dingy and dull classrooms and the tiring routine. I fooled myself into believing that I wanted to get away from the gnawing grasp of childhood and all it accompanies.

I ended up crying on my graduation day. My eyes felt like water pipes the knobs of which had broken.

Four years later and I face the same situation once again. I should be better prepared now I think, but letting go gets harder as years pile up on me. 

My only ambition in school was to get to university. I hadn't really spared a thought as to what I was going to pursue after that. Now that it's over I feel almost empty and uncertain.

Uncertain of the future that leads to so many different destinations. So many different paths up for grabs, to be an ardent mother, a headstrong career woman, a traveler. 

Most of us will wander around switching between things we thought we liked and things that are necessary for us to do in order to survive.

That is when we will think of the friends to whose company we had gotten accustomed, that have moved away in distance, however remain etched in our memories.

We will think of the times we cried, pulled our hair out in agony because we were assigned projects we thought were impossible. We will remember then how we successfully completed them together and feel a sense of great accomplishment.

We will smile silently when our mind wanders off to a time when we doubled up in laughter with our friends while imitating our professors. And a teardrop will escape when we wonder where they are now. 

We will probably visit the same restaurants, drink 'karak' from the same tea shop and watch the same TV shows that we used to, but it will never be the same. 

I've come to realize now how much I've grown in the past four years, learned so much from being around great minds, people and personalities and it hurts to bid it adieu.

This time I don't make any false promises to myself instead I'm glad I've had amazing experiences and met wonderful people letting go of whom moistens my eyes.

Real Retreat

I've noticed that I've started most of my last few blog posts with 'it's been a long time' yada yada and this time it has been super long. But I'm only writing right now because I don't want the last post to be the first post people read when they stumble upon my blog. I'm not very proud of it.

So why don't I just go ahead and delete it, you ask? As embarrassing as it may be it's something I wrote and quite possibly found quite funny when I posted it. And just like many mistakes in my life, this one cannot be erased.

Talking about mistakes the theater class I'm doing this summer totally seems like one. I've plunged so far away from my comfort zone thanks to this course that it scares me. Notice I use the word 'plunge'.

I hate being out of my comfort zone, everybody does. Somehow for most it turns out be quite a revelation for me its more of a 'take a deep breath and get over with it' moment.

I'm okay with the 'make 500 collages and present them to the class 1 day from now', it's the realistic acting I don't get. How many of us are realistically portraying our true feelings everyday, anyway? I feel like I'm walking on thin ice, the need to be politically correct is on the rise. And as people keep getting more and more sensitive with regards to their religion, sexual orientation and economic status the ice just keeps getting thinner. Why is it so hard to listen to the truth much less say it out loud?

And then come the pictures, the goddamn pictures on Facebook, twitter and the new cool guy on the block Instagram. I've always questioned the truth behind pictures. The smiles that people hold onto for a second and as soon as the camera flashes 'BAM' the frowns are on again. I remember this one time my friends from university were clicking a picture and me and my friend both being the 'non cheesy', 'eww stop touching me' kind of people, HELD EACH OTHER. FOR A PICTURE. And as soon as the the camera flashed, there we were awkward and wondering what the hell that was all about. The picture however, is one of my favorite, the best of ours.

It just seems like all the common people are going places, hanging out with their friends, going to university and most importantly eating GOOD FOOD. Privacy? Phish.
 And then there are the celebrities that are desperately trying to hang onto every piece of their lost privacy. They've got attention and don't want it and we the common people are starving for it. 

And as I go up and down the elevator practicing for my theater assignment I realize it's there where at least, I am my most real self. Awkward and unsure.

I guess all of us have our own retreats, where we let down our masks and show our real selves even if it is just for a flash of a second. CHEESE !
                                

The Villain at the Movies.

I haven't posted in a really long time but every nerve in my body is screaming out and until I type this down it threatens to continue. 

I have been frolicking around this past week. Why? Because it's Spring Break!

Well, I guess I should stop getting too happy now because today is the last day of my only holiday this semester. Sigh!

Anyway, this break I decided to frolic around in the movie theater. Honestly, I go to the theater to hog on the awesome movie theater food (it should have a name, it's a cuisine on its own I think) besides watching a movie. 

Usually, I order nachos with salsa which I refuse to share with anyone (and I know will end up half eaten under my chair), a huge glass of Pepsi and place myself on a seat.

 Now, somehow, I do not know how I end up sitting on the side of a stranger. That is okay with me, I have no problems with silent, mum   (dead) strangers until  I realize that they are breathing.

The movie is about to start and I'm all excited sitting on my seat, stuffing nachos with salsa into my mouth without even looking down ( until a jalapeno accidentally pops into my mouth) and this boy sitting next to me decides to sing along as the opening credits music is going on. So, I laugh to myself because that stops me from breaking the boy's neck. The one man choir, sitting next to me decides to not only sing along but hum to every tune that is being played in the movie (yes, it was a Hindi movie).

This one time, when I was finally having a peaceful 1.5 hours at the movies, the guy next to me decides to open his mouth to breathe. And Oh, the sweet smell of a human mouth shut for the last 1.5 hours. That's why you are supposed to eat popcorn, or nachos or crepe or something.I wanted to sew my nostrils together!!

The worst time I had when I was sitting next to a person who  thought he had bought tickets for two seats. One for each butt cheek I suppose. Or maybe I was leaning on the side opposite to him so much that felt he sad for amount of space I was wasting.

One major dilemma I face sitting next to a stranger is the handle of my seat, which one belongs to me? Once I placed my hand on the handle that I was sharing with my neighbor when he accidentally put his hand on mine. Who do you blame? The interior designer of the theater, the creator of watching a movie in the dark concept or the supposedly innocent creep sitting next to me?

Frustrating! Is this worth the money?

I guess this is why piracy is on the rise...

The Virtual Binoculars

Wheeee! 

I stared at that word for 5 minutes now WAITING for some sort of inspiration to strike me. 

Magically, it seems I've capitalized the word waiting. I guess there must be some deeper meaning as to why my hands without any prior notice seem to have jumped on the caps lock key and capitalized that word. Maybe it's because I'm waiting for something and am afraid to admit to myself what it is.

Or, or maybe it's all this studying for my Psychology midterm this week that has played with my tangled brain nerves (the last time I studied biology was in grade 10) and now I'm over focusing on myself. As a side note, my book says that over focusing ones attention on oneself leads one into depression. 

                                                     

Anyway, I think I've been obsessing over way too many things this week (including my usage of the word one). It's actually just one thing, one person but that's all I can say for now. The person is lovely and also does not know of my obsession with him which kind of makes me feel like a STALKAAHH!

Let me spell it right for people oblivious to what I like to call my secret talent (not so much of a secret now I suppose). People cannot be oblivious to it it's impossible (yes, Audrey Hepburn it is impossible) since innocently viewing someone's profile on facebook also qualifies as stalking. And people with no facebook profiles I guess nobody really cares about your existence on the planet.

Ever tried "googling: yourself ? You totally should, it's a form of over focusing on yourself (beware of the lurking depression) but it'll help you remove, delete, erase all the information out there that you wouldn't want your over curious mother, brother or boyfriend to come across. 

Internet as much as we argue has limited our privacy, also helps us figure out if that cute guy in class has a girlfriend or if that stuck up professor has some dirty skeletons in the closet. The amount of information I've gathered about people I've been interested in romantically or otherwise is massive. 

Internet stalking is like entering into a persons house, opening their wardrobe and shuffling through their bare necessities. Even though I openly admit I'd rather indulge in the latter. (:P)

                                         

Midnight Love...

I silently watched the family of four squish themselves onto the seat of a motorcycle meant for two. I watched as people turned their faces away at the sight of a poor woman knocking on the windows of their cars.  I watched as the old man carried the heavy bag down the road, the endless road.

Grim faces, slumped shoulders. It was 12.00 a.m. I should have been asleep and yet I found myself spiraling down, deep into an ocean of thoughts, growing extremely aware of my surroundings. 

It's been terribly long since I've read a book my eyes refuse to peel away from. My fingers frantically turn the pages of 'The Zahir' because I identify with the author down to every sentence, every word. Every page makes me stop and wonder, look around, look inside, within me what I hold, what I treasure.

12.05 a.m. I must sleep, my eyes feel heavy and my heart too. Too many words trapped within. But this wasn't the moment to let it out. 

'When will the moment be right?'

'Perhaps tomorrow, in a year's time, or never, and if that were the case, then we would have to respect that decision.'

The days seem to have frozen or rather I seem to have been frozen in a time different from now. I watch you walk upto me with love in your eyes but whose to say that's what it was. There is a thin line between love and hate and I seem to have overstepped. 

' But I will fight till the bitter end', she said. She lost. But was it really her loss if the man she loved was happy even if without her?

'All I know is that even though I can live without her, I would like to see her again, to say what I never said when we were together. I love you more than I love myself. If I could say that, then I could go on living, at peace with myself, because that love has redeemed me.'

Redemption and peace, Isn't that what we are all looking for? Paulo Coelho seems to agree.

The Invisible People

Oh the atrocity! This being my last semester in university I suddenly notice the attitude of various people changing towards me. Or maybe it's just me growing older and being able to see beyond the fake facade that people put up. Whatever it might be the past few years have opened up my eyes to the outrageous behavior of people that hides behind the great word, "tradition".

Just the other day I was talking to my mother about a girl I knew who was getting married to her long time boyfriend. To this my mother replied saying apparently she wanted to get married before her elder sister( her elder sister at that time was resisting the idea of marriage, no surprise). So I asked the obvious question, Why didn't she then? The simple answer, tradition. Younger siblings do not get married before their older ones, brothers do not get married before their sisters. When I asked why it was so and who said so, my mother gave me an answer that, well I kind of did expect.

She said the answer to both those questions were people.

People that are nowhere to be found when I need encouragement. People that are nowhere to be found when I need help. People that are nowhere to be found when I want to share my happiness. People who are nowhere to be found when I cry in sadness.

Who exactly are these invisible people?

I for one have always been known as the rebel against hard and fast traditional rules in my society. Why am I supposed to wear flowers that I hate on my head for my wedding? Why am I talking about my wedding anyway, when I'm only twenty one years of age?

These invisible people seem to be directing my life since the day I was born and sworn to be an engineer because anything other than a being a doctor or an engineer would make me less appealing as a person. Somehow, me being a doctor or an engineer determines the purity of my soul.

Most people are afraid to rebel against such atrocious rules designed to suffocate happiness. And I know if any  aunties looking for a prospective daughter in law happen to stumble across my blog, will deem me as being "unmarriageable" and "outspoken". So be it.

It's important to remember that the question was never, is it traditionally acceptable or not, the question is and always has been between right and wrong.

And it's somehow traditionally acceptable to be wrong.

  

Lessons learned, goodbyes delivered.

Days seem to race past while paranoid me tries desperately to hold onto them. Revel, enjoy the present moment while anticipating the subsequent.

Honestly, I'm not a dreamer. I don't spend much time enjoying the present which is why I find many moments in my life have passed by receiving no appreciation whatsoever. And suddenly as I sit in my balcony, the cool breeze grazing my skin and feeling my hair relishing the moment, I begin to dream.

I stare at the open sky, blaring music fills in the silence, silence that reminds me of friends made and lost. Loss, regret, pain, sadness, words I never want to think about. Too much time is wasted on the negative, on trying to escape from our own personal traps without realizing that the escape leads to another trap.

But it's these very words that make my fingers tap on the keyboard, that bring out a surge of emotion that I can't seem to control. 

I've realized in this one year that has passed by that people are better at a chameleon's job than chameleons themselves. And I get it, you change colors according to the surroundings that you are placed in. That is the only way to survive, I've learned the hard way.

Right now I feel like that house in the middle of the woods that is surrounded by tall pine trees, hidden but seemingly noticeable to a tired traveler. A house where people find solace for a brief moment, say their thank-you's and leave. 

That is the thing about these houses, nobody ever stays behind.