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If Only we Were Lanterns

Hello my Precious Lovelies,

I remember the days when even the most mundane objects or days could inspire me. Over the years I lost the light within me that constantly kept me inspired. I’m gradually getting it back, but that’s a topic for another post. I hope you like the following poem that I penned:

If I were a lantern, then the cruel fire burning me

would be my fuel rather than bestowing the burden

of mortality on me.

The cruel fire that burns down forests with its fury,

would be the only reason I could fly.

So why do I call this fire cruel, you say?

Because my entire life, my very existence depends on its existence.

So precious fire of Mine! Never burn out.

Never let my flight end.

For I was meant to fly.

Fly till I transcended beyond the ordinary.

And even if you dare extinguish, which you inevitably will,

let us take flight beyond this world,

so the world remembers us as immortals.

Having had conquered this mortal world.

Let us live our tiny bit if immortality before we extinguish.

Let you and I conquer the sky,

Let you and I brighten this world,

Let you and I leave the mortals gazing at us in awe,

Let you and I live our tiny bit of eternity in this mortal little world.

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The Rules of Expectation

Dearest Lovelies,

I must be apologising for the umteenth time for the constant hiatus I keep taking. I do sincerely apologise, if you have ardently been following my random musings. Also, I feel privileged that you do. :P. But as I promise always, this time again I shall endevaour to write more often. But the paucity of time is my excuse this time around, instead of my constant excuse of laziness.

Anyhooo!

Delhi is experiencing its onset of winter, battling its way out from the inundating levels of pollution. There is a nip of cold in the air. That means its ‘Shaadi (Wedding) season’ in ‘Saddi Dilli’ (Our Delhi). At one such wedding last night, I came across a chap and we got into the discussion of ‘expectations’, randomly. Yes. Randomly. Precisely, I go at wedding parties and talk of general human behavior et al with people, and then I wonder why in the world am I not dating anybody yet. (TIP for all you single ladies out there, keep the conversation light, if only I could practice what I preach!).

So while we got down to the discussion, I said that is better to not have any expectations, save you from quite a few heartbreaks, and not just heartbreaks per se. Even on a daily basis, if our trivial expectations from others are not met, our temper starts bubbling, we get frustrated, ultimately culminating into a negative attitude.

According to this fellow however, and rightly so, what is a life without expectations? Life loses its meaning without it. And that hit a chord, yes.

Yes, expectations might be broken, multiple times in a fraction of minutes, but when these expectations are met, or when we meet someone else’s expectation, the joy and elation we experience is priceless.

This notion of expectations is a two-sided coin, its tale shall only unfold once it lands on the ground.

How easy it is to close the heart to the world once it is wounded. How convenient it is to lock everyone and every emotion out on account of one instance whence it was scarred. I did it. For a very very very long time. I still do it on most days. But when on the rare occasions I do let people in, I do let them affect me, I ‘expect’ something out of them and my expectations are met, I feel belonged in this lonely world. That I matter.

Yes, it is essential to remember that we as living beings are fundamentally lonely creatures, especially in today’s times, but it feels good to have friends and family that we can bank upon. That bring shine in our mundane lives.

So, yes, it is much easier to lead a life of solitude, but life becomes worth living when you find your home in the crowd of loneliness. When you find people who matter to you and to whom you matter.

So, let’s expect a little more love and correspondingly give more love to this world. I think that’s what is lacking today. A little bit of magic called love.

Without You My Friend

Dear All,

I stand in no position to apologize for the continuous hiatus I keep taking from blogging. I blame my laziness through and through. Lack of inspiration would simply be an excuse. But today’s post is more of a confession. A cathartic confession. I have all my life, yes, ALL.MY.LIFE. been a romantic. Lovers also awed me, the concept of two people falling in love amongst billions of human beings at the same time fascinated me, it still fascinates me. It’s what they say, “the Universe conspires”..a web for them. A cocoon, a solace. To me it seems. Being a girl, I am a hardcore Chick-flick, chick-lit aficionado. The pseudo-intellect in me loves me my intellectual movies and books to read, but deep within I know I enjoy me some love and playful banter tad bit more. I ENJOY it, being the expression to stress on. Simply put, I LOVE LOVE. I just love it. With all my heart and soul. I’ve written teeny bopper-ish love poems all through High School. Still do. They are random and funny and with exaggerated expectations, but that’s just me. Loving love. I have not however had a boyfriend for almost 8 years now. Don’t get me wrong, SOME boys did like me, and I liked some, I was audacious enough to ask out boys, 3 to be precise and all of them turned me down. Yes, my heart did break into million pieces each time. But I still LOVE love, albeit not bold enough anymore to coagulate the courage to make another reckless and heart-wrenching proposal.

I feel that somehow I am incomplete, a part of my inside is empty, waiting, waiting, impatiently, and yet sometimes surprisingly patiently, to be complete. That one day, someday, I shall be loved, in a way no one has loved me before. an exquisite sensation deep within my core. That the rising sun each morning would finally give me a purpose to smile and let me burn deep into the night. No, no, this seems queazy but I am not particularly talking about sex, I am talking about falling in love. I want to feel wanted. I want to feel needed. To be the reason someone smiles everyday and return the gesture. To see and experience poetry in each and every breath I take. To see poetry in everything. Maddening love. Passionate love. Deep and drown-in-love kind of love. Hyperbolic much I can be, right? I just love love. This is one of my deepest, darkest fantasy. Till a point in my life I thought this feeling goes against my fundamental principle of feminism. Maybe a part of me is still in a fix. Still trying to negate these deep, dark desires. Or perhaps I am deliberately trying to suppress them, because I have not found what they call “THE ONE”. Maybe both.Can’t dwell and elaborate much on the latter option, but I thought to myself one day, regarding the former, that being a feminist does not necessarily imply you can’t hope and want and need to fall deep in love. This is a primal instinct. A primal need. We aren’t exactly incomplete. But we need love in our lives. We all do. It makes life worth living. It gives meaning and purpose to our life. Love. Yes it does. Be it love for a partner, a friend, a hobby or a job for that matter. It transcends a life from surviving each day to living each day. Love gives us Hope. Love is Hope in one of its many variant forms.

So, as I wait for my Dark Knight in shining armor, waiting to carry me with him so that we may both wage the battle together, I would just like to ask you, do you love love? The concept of love? Do you have someone in your life like that. One person you can truly count on, warts and all? If you do, then value them, appreciate them every single day, because not everybody gets that in one lifetime. And if you don’t then be that person for yourself. Fall in love with yourself each day. Be your own reason to smile. Go out there, cease this world, just envelope yourself in your thoughts and fall madly in love with yourself. Because what is life, if not lived with love.

Also, people, please pray for Nepal, and please do whatever tad bit you can for that shaken country.

Much love.

I Want to be a Somebody

Doesn’t everybody? I mean don’t we all want to leave back a mark in this world before we go? Want to be remembered. Be a Gandhi or an Obama or a young hip Cobain? We want the world to remember us. Well, at least I do. I want people to look me up in Google and that someone to write a Wikipedia page on me, describing my life and all of its glory. Frankly though I haven’t done any work worth glorifying or worth writing a wiki page about. But I want to. I want someone to point to my Dad and say “he is N’s father”. And I want my Papa to feel proud. But mostly before I leave I want people to love. To continue my legacy, whatever that is, whatever it shall be. Don’t we all? I think that goes on my Bucket List:
1. To have a legacy. To love more. Love everybody and anybody. No one in this world should be deprived of it. And I think I shall start that with smiling at strangers more often. Not to creep them out ( believe me some find it creepy. ) and to compliment people more often. Baby steps you call them? See, it doesn’t take much. 🙂
2. To do something substantial with my life. Do it with all of my heart. I’m currently jobless, having finished law school. To be the kind of lawyer everyone remembers, for the good I mean. Never to treat work like work. Because that’s what it essentially becomes then, work. A burden of sorts.
What is your Monday resolution? Will you think of me? My post?

Look At The Stars

The night is but young
He said,
Let’s walk another mile.
It is almost dawn yes,
But do stay for a while.

There is much to live,
Much to drink,
Many more memories to create,
In my memory to sink.

It is but the end,
But another mile isn’t too far.
Yes, we part ways soon,
But let not this moment mar.

I take away a part of you,
It becomes a part of me.
The Sun about to shine
Albeit to you it does beseech,

Stay, stay for but a while,
Just walk with me just another mile,
Cause look at the stars,
They shall tell our tale ‘morrow.

Love! Let not the heart be of sorrow,
We shall not last till the morn’
But look at the stars my love,
They take away a part of you, a part of me, and a part of us.

Fault in Your Stars

Yes, I unabashedly admit, I am sucker for John Green’s ‘Fault in Our Stars’ . Augustus Waters just melts my heart. I don’t know about you but I fell in love with him for the way he lived his life. He did what he thought best, without ever hurting anyone else, well, without hurting those who didn’t deserve it, ( I can’t remember Isaac’s ex-girlfriend’s name, but that’s who I meant by this). He lived life by his rules. Or maybe he only lived a  life of such sort because he had already experienced a touch of death.

I don’t know. I am not going to looking around to correspond with John Green to have answers to my questions. Some questions should never be answered.

But what I would like to ask you, is what would you prefer? Knowing that you’re about to die, or that God ought to surprise you? Yes, I talk ALOT about death, because I still have many questions that my precious Bhagwad Gita hasn’t asnwered yet. But yes, YOU. How would you like it? Know or not know?

Me? I’m sorry, I am neither brave nor courageous enough to choose to know. I know Death is the inevitable, but not knowing WHEN is better for me. But more importantly, if you knew, what would you like to do before you died?

Me? I would LOVE to travel. Travel alone, travel far. I don’t know why I bog myself down with the trivial, but my soul yearns for the unknown and unseen all the time. I would love to fall in love. Many many many times. Because no two loves are the same. That is what I would do if I had even a bleak idea of my timeline. But its ironical, because I do have a vague idea, not of when obviously, but of the inevitable. So what’s stopping me? ME!

We always tend to postpone our life for tomorrow. Because we believe we are too young, too healthy, too immortal to die I suppose. But we are not immortal. So stop whiling away precious time, its not coming back.

I vow to travel ALOT, even if I do so in regions of vicinity, and fall in love more often than not. Heart in any case is but a muscle, I must learn to use it, instead it preserving it. Must need to get it broken too often to fall in love more often.

What about you? What are you going to do with today?

On that note, have a Happy Monday and a glorious week. 🙂

Sometimes There Are No Titles

For the first time I suppose I begin a post without conjuring up a title. Typing a title constrains my frivolity to wander off to subjects I do not intend to discuss or write, which I end up doing anyway. It is not that I am sure of the content I am supposed to be typing, I have thought it all through, if I had my Notebook with me yesterday, you’d have read it yesterday itself, considering I practically lived on a Train yesterday (read: 14 hour journey in toto, to and fro). I had all the time in the world, inspiration brewing, bursts of creativity topped with bounties of sensitivity. For all of you who don’t know me personally, and those who do, but did not access Facebook on the day,it was my birthday on July 12, and I longed for this last year, but I was too busy enjoying my Summer vacation, so I had decided this year I HAVE to do it. Ergo, even before Birthday arrived ( FYI, I’m big on birthdays!) I had booked my ticket, to travel solo. Yes, you read it right, SOLO. Not that Daddy did not have any qualms about me travelling alone, but travelling out of town, in a train, in this country? Well, you get the drill. I did not want any of my friends to know of my travel plans till I sat down and wrote this post, but cyber stalkers, I tell you, they knew ( SOME of them did). I had travelled to Ajmer Dargah Sharif, I am a little bad on its history, but what I can gather from Wikipedia is that it is a shrine that has the grave ( Maqbara in Urdu) of the Sufi saint Moinnudin Chishti. It is more than 900 years old ( I say this because the Qazi told me that the food prepared there for the under-priveleged has not been missed once in the last 900 years since Akbar donated the largest Utensil in Asia).

What compels me to go a shrine of a religion I do not belong to, during the month it ought to be most busiest? Family and THEIR friends thought I am ‘uncontrollable, a little mental to decide to go in the month of Ramadan, to top it off, alone. Well, maybe I am , maybe I am not. But the truth is I wanted to experience this DIFFERENT religion. I have been reading the Bhagwad Geeta these days and religiously watching the Mahabharata with Daddy every evening, and the one question that bothers me ‘ what is so different about other religions? Why are we divided? By books, by Gods, by borders? When MY religions speaks of love, not gracing other Hindus with love, but being benevolent and kind and spreading love across masses, irrespective of their caste. That is what Lord Krishna tries to explain, that Varna should not be decided by birth but by one’s occupation. So what compels us to differentiate?

This is my third visit to the Dargah, the last time I was there, was two years ago, I was overwhelmed with emotions, with the power of the place, with the power of God. I was not in a good place, but being there relaxed me, I knew everything would work out just fine. Not today, not tomorrow, but there is always a day after. There is always Hope. And for when all is lost, there is God. For when all is there, you thank God. My soul has never been enraptured in such frenzy and contentment before. For that I am much grateful to God and my sister, who planned that trip. Please, restrain yourself from tagging me as religious, I am anything BUT religious. I am what I call myself ‘ritualistic’. I run through the motions of Pooja. I do the necessary rites and perform the necessary ceremonies as required of me. To me, following all the rites and rituals is not being religious. Being religious is greater than that. It is transcending to a state of servitude. No, I am not going to go around preaching Buddhism and its tenets promulgating detachment from worldly pleasures. Religion is being a good human being, if we are more the intelligent species we must like it. We must respect every living being irrespective of our differences, our daily lives should foretell tales of random acts of kindness, not to earn brownie points for Heaven, or whatever it is you seek in return, there must be no seeking. ‘Karma kar, phal ki ichcha matt kar’. To me religion is ‘to be good. Period.’

I found solace there once, I went there again to yearn peace. Inner peace as they call it. No, I am not a Mohammden, I am a Hindu by birth, why would God give me peace not in a Temple, but in a Mosque? I don’t know. I don’t want to know. But while praying there, I had the epiphany ( I am a bundle of epiphanies, I notice), that wherever we go, to a Temple, Mosque, Gurudwara or a Church, or every other religious institution, we fold our hands and pray to our God. Folding of hands is a common factor, even if according to you the God is different. We all beseech our God by folding our hands and praying. This is a universal process. We may not understand the other religions’ language but we all do know how to pray. Palm to palm, eyes completely shut, visualizing our God and just one tiny little prayer. We all do it. And we all follow the same pattern to do it, even when demarcated as different religions.

So what compels us? What compels Israel to take innocent lives of people in Gaza? I do not like to take a stand on politics, other than my unabashed concern towards Women Empowerment and Safety in our nation, but this is beyond human understanding. To take innocent lives? To pronounce oneself as superior by oppressing the weaker? Is this superiority or a sham? To disadvantage the already disadvantaged. To try and completely wipe out a nation from the map of the World. The grotesqueness of Wars appall and infuriate me as I stand helpless here.

So what compels us to fight wars in the name of religion? To create these divides? To define who or what is higher and lower or purer by blood? Does the Sun stop shining on this ‘lower blooded person?’ or does this God pull the ground beneath his feet to relinquish him in an abysmal pit? Then why do we differentiate? take innocent lives? Wage unnecessary wars?

My questions keep piling up and I have no answer, but I know, till there is Hope in me, there is a better world than I see. I may be a Hindu, but I also believe in Allah and Jesus Christ and all the magical workings of the Universe. I am but a Human seeking God and his grace.

Like I said, I am not religious, merely ritualistic.

I would like to end my post here, but I would like to thank one special,tiny friend for reminding me why I did this in the first place. Thank you Abhyuday Malhotra, I have something special for you, but tomorrow. 🙂

Till there is tomorrow, there is Hope in me.

P.S.: there is still no apt Title

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