“I am always late on principle, my principle being that punctuality is the thief of time.”― Oscar Wilde
From the experiences I have had in my short life I would tend to agree with him. Earlier I used to be furious at being kept waiting but now I just keep myself busy reading, writing, checking emails, tweeting inane things, commenting on posts I’d rather not, watching people, taking pictures, listening to songs, deleting stuff from the phone – whatever suits my mood at that point in time. I know what you are thinking, thank heavens for a smartphone, right? Without a smartphone it ain’t pretty, I get downright restless.
So that when the person I am waiting for actually arrives, looking up won’t be easy since I am immersed in ‘work’ which gives the illusion of being busy (so as not to look like a total loser for being on time). I can easily feign nonchalance, resist the urge to shout and lie that it wasn’t a bother waiting for 45 minutes or thinking that I might perhaps have been stood up (sob!).
If I am not busy and just stare at the watch looking at the minutes pass away waiting, I might blow a fuse and lose it in the true sense of the word. Well at least I wasn’t twiddling my thumbs like last time or mouthing obscenities in my mind. Or thinking of ways of storming out for maximum drama while shouting tardiness will not be tolerated when the person does arrive (Yay I have not been stood up). It is better than shooting daggers or sulking and losing the remaining time left. Life is precious and the minutes are ticking by.
I always like to have time to stand and stare but I would like to do it on my own time, thank you very much. I don’t like to be forced to stand in the hot sun staring at moving vehicles while breathing in polluted air. This is the not the time for it. This was our time together, half of which is now gone.
When I saw the song Chod aaye hum woh galiyaan from Maachis, I couldn’t remember if I had seen the film but the song felt familiar to me and the visuals unfamiliar to me. How is this possible? I love this song and didn’t even know it existed until yesterday. Yes, you can safely say I’m losing my mind or is it something serious like going mad? Well I can hear my school mates saying, “we knew that you will end up in Ranchi”. It’s such a shame I didn’t write diary entries during those days. It would have made mining out information so much easier.
When I was a kid I went to see films with my maternal aunt and her friends. She took me along, mind you, I didn’t tag along or demand to go with her. But I don’t remember if she took me with her to see Maachis or if it was a recommendation by her? Guess I will have to ask her and I really hope her memory is better than mine. With Gulzar it was bound to be a double treat. He has directed Maachis and the lyrics are also penned by him. Vishal Bhardwaj is the Music Director. Now you know what I’m talking about. I have a movie to (re)watch until then you check out the song.
Life on the other side of twenty. It’s all downhill I tell you. Nobody told me that 20 is the new 40. Well I have always been an old soul. Is that all I hear you say? I was not the forgetful sort but lately I have been having trouble with my memory and none of my friends take it seriously. They think I’m exaggerating. The bane of having self-depreciating humour is that no one believes you even when you are screaming the truth out loud. They think you are always trying to make people laugh by putting yourself down. No amount of wailing or complaining will get me my memory back or for that matter my past life. Believe me I have tried both and it’s not something you want to ever see.
A song can bring back many memories, memories you didn’t know you still had but they are there somewhere. I have a uncle who looks like Chandrachur Singh, who I had always associated with Kya Kehna and suddenly I remembered that he(not my uncle but the actor) was also in a movie called Yeh Silsila Hai Pyaar Ka. Before you roll your eyes, when I was young I wasn’t that discerning a movie watcher. I just looked stupidly at the moving pictures and it’s safe to say I have watched some pretty ridiculous and lame movies oblivious to their greater purpose. Oh wait you weren’t bothered about the movies but were alarmed by my scattered thoughts? Well it’s not in my hands (resigned look on my face).
Does anyone need friends? I never thought I would be standing here on our beautiful blue Planet (soon to be rendered uninhabitable) asking this question. If someone asked me this some years back, I would have looked at them as if they had sprouted two horns. Once upon a time I would have done anything for my friends. What changed? What if I say I don’t need any friends? Not because friendship as a relationship is dead. Maybe my standards are too high (I was afraid that I have set them too low for the fear of disappointing myself) or I’m too idealistic (no surprise there). But really, is it just a plain give and take a la barter system?
Recently while talking to a friend, she said friendship is an emotional investment we make and why should we continue to make that investment when there is no return? That stopped me in my tracks (not literally because I was sitting on the bed). I was stunned into silence (that is no mean feat). Does everything have to have a tangible
return? How did everything get equated in terms of returns? Barter system. Give and take. Take and give. I heard myself replying that it’s okay if there’s no return as long as there’s nothing negative, and that’s where I draw the line. Yeah, right. Being burnt to cinders, I mean. Another friend while answering a poll question, when asked what do you need friends for, ticked the option using them. She was honest enough to admit that it came automatically to her. I had no comeback for that. Being friends with people for the sake of using them is despicable. But then what do I know about the world.
Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light- Helen Keller
What if it’s a frenemy? You will probably end up in a hospital with a memory loss in that case!
There are categories – acquaintances, friends, enemies and frenemies. I have never understood the need for the last category. I’d love to have enemies (not in a sadistic way but in a way that says we are equal in our hate and dislike) but it’s frenemies I can’t stand. Yes I know who you are, you are fooling no one. You want to act like you are my friend then start taking acting classes! You criticize and hate a person but keep a person close only so you know what they are up to, so you can sabotage or disparage them behind their backs, yet acting like you have their best interests at heart. That is pretty low, like viruses who use their hosts for replicating and in return, destroy them. Win-Win. Give me an honest rascal any day, who has the guts to say what he/she feels to my face, rather than a “friend” who wouldn’t think twice before doing an “Et tu, Brute”, and is just waiting for the perfect time to strike.
I don’t need friends. I want friends, always have, to share my uninteresting life with (happy now). I have no place for frenemies in my life and neither the time or inclination to indulge in acting. Enemies, of course, are always welcome. A worthy adversary is worth one’s weight in gold. Or so I am told.
People forget and forget so easily. Faces. Names. Feelings. Memories. Everything. Where did it all go? You wonder if it ever really happened in the first place. Where are the keepsakes and the letters? Why don’t people think in what might have beens? Why don’t they hold on till their last breath? Why wasn’t there a last phone call? Why let it go all so easily as if it didn’t matter in the first place at all? Is getting over things so damn easy?
The face in the picture fades. The once loved name ceases to matter. The name which you once worshipped becomes just another word that you know but will never use. The song brings back memories of the days gone by and nostalgia is now tinged with sadness.
Feelings are the worse part,they say. But if you can’t remember that heady feeling, the crest like highs and the bottomless lows, then yours is a heart or a machine, I ask?
Fond memories, warped memories, twisted memories and downright bad memories are all better than having no recollection whatsoever.
What’s the use if everything is so ephemeral, the rational mind harps? You think you have a second chance at everything but you never do. Life is harsh dear girl, get used to it. Shut up, I say. I will listen to you when the time is right (read after I’m dead).
I know everyone is waiting with bated breath for your dreams to shatter, they can enjoy the noise and think, yes we are better off with the practical approach to life. All the pain will be worth it. Now she, the naive whimsical idealistic dreamer will know real pain. Oh victory at last !
O capricious fate you will never win. Not over me. The last laugh may not be mine but it certainly won’t be yours, get it? I live, love , get hurt and go through a gamut of emotions but that doesn’t stop me from delving back in with full force, with all my optimism and enthusiasm. With all I have. Jaded? Me? Never for long. Nothing lasts forever. My yo-yo like nature allows me to spring back from both walk-on-the-cloud-nine happiness and drown-yourself-in-the-drug-of-your-choice sadness. It can happen in an instant and can even take years but happen it will. I am the same old soul, nothing tarnishes me forever.
Who will know the value of dreams if they aren’t shattered? Like the rose tinted glasses I keep handy, it’s okay if they are lost. I will find myself a new one or may be go off without it and see what the fuss is all about.
“You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.”
What a bad dream I had last night. Probably the worst thing I have ever seen or will ever see.I woke up with a jolt and realized that it’s alright, it’s just a dream. It was a wake up call,both literally and figuratively. Everything that I could ever want and the all people I could ever love are right here in my life. This is the life that I had dreamt of. I had on rose tinted glasses so thick that I didn’t realize that it was real life and not a dream. It’s as if I was drugged and oblivious to my own life. As if I had been looking from the sidelines waiting for something better to happen and someone better to come along, never realizing that this is the only life I have got and I have to make it count. In this lifetime not the next.
I’m an old soul and a weary one at that. Always have been. I wonder where has all the time gone and is this how my entire life is going to pass by, without me actually living it (for most part). For better or worse I still have the ability to laugh at myself and I believe it’s an important thing. It allows me to survive without drowning in gloom and wallowing in self pity. Time to buck up and go to the department or I will be late and will be made to stand outside the class!!
The present is everything it could be and more if I give it a chance. The message from all quarters is clear-just live.
Have a soulful Saturday folks !
Hello blog people 🙂
Uh umm I know it’s not very apt or polite. I dare say me even giving this a second thought, it’s her influence!!!! Otherwise who cares to be grammatically correct and use just the correct word for every little situation, duh not me! Anyway what else should I address you guys as??? And should it even be plural?
And who is this you ask? Pssst. It’s me her super cool sister 😀 She has mentioned me quite a few times, so y’all should be familiar with me, I suppose (looks around expectantly for applause). Let’s get on with it, shall we…
An obvious observation-I dare say nobody reads her precious blog, why else would it wear such a desolate look, eh? But the background is blue and its sparse and without frills. It’s her alright.
Now to the topic. I can’t believe its Tuesday already. I can break out into a song and dance routine right now(totally spontaneous and unrehearsed but fab all the same =)). But I’d better not lest the fat cat wake up and raise hell!! Lately I have taken to calling her troll and it irritates the shit out of her. Nowadays she’s being called MANTAL Boy (Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara anyone?). Evil laugh!!!
Three more days till Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part-2 releases in cinemas. I can barely contain myself. No point in asking me if I’m a die hard HP fan cos there’s no doubt about that I.AM.NOT.A FAN. But I don’t hate the books, they were good but nothing life changing. Maybe it might have been different for me if I had read it the way my sister did and not in the span of a couple of weeks. I just read it because all the guys in my class had read it (peer pressure I tell you, makes you do the strangest things) and the books were already there, courtesy my sister.
Continue reading “HARRY WHO?”