A Little Ray of Sunshine

Thud Thud Thud


This noise...little noise...what is it I wonder? 


My eyes flutter open slowly...Oh..I didn't know I could do that- open my eyes, that is! It's dark, and warm and oh sooooo cozy... Sigh.


I snuggle against the smooth surface and rub my face on my soft hair. The wall is all around me. What is it? 


Hmmmm....


I go tap tap with my feet (I didn't know I could do that either! Imagine!) Sigh. Its a little tight in here.


Hey- whats happening?! There's this weird feeling...its rising in my chest and to my mouth and all of a sudden it opened! My mouth opened! By itself! and my arms rising up as if to stretch *yawn*...and oops- what did I do? 


There's a tiny crack in the wall! And what IS this funny white thing coming in? Hmmm..


I try to crouch back (Away from the funny white thing. Weird.) but I can barely move! Hmph. 


Ok. I get it! I'll just use my brand new tap-tapping skills and cover the crack with my feet and...uh oh. Something just happened. I know it. I must have pressed my back too much against the wall. Sigh. I wonder if I broke something? Let me get up. 


Sigh. I just rolled. Sigh.


But wait...that funny white thing is all around me now and...and it has turned me...gasp! YELLOW!!


Maybe, just maybe, I can...yes...let me fix it...let me turn around..but damn! Did you see that? The wall just gave in..Let me see if....Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! My whole world is crumbling around me! I'm dying! I'm DYING! Daaaaaayyyyyiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnngggggg!


*silence*


Uh. Ok. 


Hello Mum. 


Um...So i guess there was no need to panic huh? And apparently, the egg IS supposed to break! Hehe. Phew! Who would've thunk?!

Identity Blues

For the longest time, I thought I was like my dad. For the longest time. 

In fact, that was up till 2 minutes back. 2 minutes. Sigh. I am my mom.

Its crazy. 

Growing up, we never traveled. Never went to hill stations or some such...no wait- we did- I guess there was that one trip to Nainital when I was in Third standard...and of course the one to Goa when I was in Tenth..but you get the drift..never travelled...rarely traveled. I have only heard the following, "Lets go out for dinner" "No, we'll order it at home" or "Lets go to the mall" "No, lets go some other day". And having heard that, its hard to then pitch "Lets go to Manali" and get an ideal response from them. 

But me- me is a daredevil at heart- so me thumped the chest, stood facing the twin adversaries and said "We....shall go to Singapore!" SILENCE. 

Hmm- silence could be good. Maybe I have intimidated them to the extent that they just might say yes. My bravery, my in your face honesty, my stern unforgiving resolve..."Its too expensive", "I will not get a No Objection Certificate from my School" "And its too expensive" "Aur hum jaake karengey bhi kya?" "Do you know how much it costs?!" #Epic#Fail *sadface*

At the root of this epidemic, I have always placed my father. Sigh. Dads. Not open to change dads. Who want everything their way or the way mom-would-be-happy-with-and-leave-them-alone. Who would want nothing better than to sit in their favorite chair or that spot on the bed and watch a 17 year old match highlight in which I swear, I saw Kapil Dev with an afro. Sigh. Those were the days. Not about the dads- but the afro- D'uh.

And me? I've been right there along with dad. 100% LAZY bum. The word couch potato was spelt D-I-V...you get the drift. Anyways, my dad's the cutest. And I guess I'm like him. *Cute as a button*. He was the one saying lets eat at home or we'll go next year or Lets not go watch that movie because there is a ...wait for it...Terror Threat due to DIWALI!!! (To be fair - he just cant sit still for a 3 hour movie- and he absolutely HATES Ashutosh Gowarikar for making that 4 hour long Jodha Akbar that mom dragged him to) 

So I too sit around at home...do not like going shopping...want nothing better than a book in my hand and corn puffs within gobbling distance. And so I had resigned myself to this fate of semi-dad-ness and happily drudged my way through life with nary a care, between the gluttony, sloth and sheer laziness. I slopped around in my bean bag with eatables within easy reach, a bottle of water on the side, atleast 2 books that I could grab at, and let me see....remote for AC- check, remote for TV- check, laptop on the side- check. See, that's the skin I'm comfortable in- with my harem pants and almost 10 years old shirt, I am so not my semi-OCD mom. And then...Bam!

We were planning a trip for the coming long weekend. Oh Wait- not my family- I'm sorry, we are the Scrooges. We don't do "all that". So, my cousins were planning a trip for the coming long weekend, and before you know it, their parents agreed to go, and then THEY called my parents, who surprisingly agreed- because you see, the idea did not come from their ever so sensible-but-mightily-ignored daughter but their peers- you know- the ones with white and whiter hairs? So the first I heard of this trip, I sighed. Yes, I'm sure you think it'd be out of pleasure- but really- it wasn't. Because what I honestly, sincerely, from the bottom of my heart wanted- was to sleep. Sleep through the weekend. Peaceful, blissful, quiet weekend- That was all I wanted. But really, I sucked up and moved on, cause of course dad was so excited about it. And I said- of course, we'd go.

But in this one moment of weakness, I asked, "What if I don't go...you guys should totally go ahead...". 

My mom, of all the people, broke the pin drop silence that followed this statement and said- "But why?" And then, "Really, if you don't want to go, then its ok- We shan't go too because honestly even I just don't feel like it..." 

My Mom. I realized that all these years that we didn't travel much, it wasn't because of dad. It was just because when you work full time and then come home to manage two drive-you-to-death brats, not to mention expectations of your in laws and a perpetually busy husband, you don't need a vacation, you just need some rest. Because lord knows, with 2 kids in tow, there is no vacation. 

Moms. Don't we love 'em? 

And me? Yes, I am like mom...but that doesn't mean I'm not like dad. What it does mean is that I can really get away with anything - and I mean anything- by wholly laying the blame of on either or both of them. After all, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree... :)

Ramblings...

It was in third standard when i first entered that room- and it was clear. Very very clear. That I was in love.

The smell, the sights, the touch of those wizened pages- I never thought a library could be that enchanting. I remember the first question I asked- Can I take it home? And was very sweetly told- "Not till the Sixth standard" From that day on, till the first day of Sixth Standard, it was about biding time and most of that time was spent in the library- devouring books. Don't get me wrong- I was by no means a geek- I mean, I wasn't reading Encyclopedias, or some such thing- It were the stories. So many of them.

My love affair started with Agatha Christies (yes, in third standard!), moved on to Hardy Boys, then Enid Blydons, Sydney Sheldons- It was crazy! I'd read anything that caught my fancy, issue 3 books at a time (maximum allowed), and return them in 2 days flat, only to issue more. I was enthralled by the mysteries, the thrillers, yet soon moved beyond them to the world of grown ups. The books were my friends, my teachers- who taught me all I needed to know about life, relationships, laughter, humour, suspicions, greed, lust and I began to revere authors who could phrase my feelings better than I ever could. Doesn't that feel good? When you don't know how to describe a feeling and then you pick up a book and there it is- written as plainly as possible, in words you could never have thought of?

And then there are these new worlds- for the life of me I could never have thought them up- but thank God for blessed authors! Oh what would I give to meet Tolkien and discuss the middle earth with him, or Alan Moore to know his psyche while inventing Rorschach. It's a blessing to be able to read and comprehend what these great minds have to say- Bulle Shah with his poetry and Vikram Seth with his prose. People don't understand why I'd read a book again- and I do- all of them. For there's a book for every mood and season and every time you read it- any book- again- you'd find something you missed the first time around. Lord knows how many times I have read the tiny "The Little Prince" and every time I've come away with a very very different understanding of life, as seen through the eyes of le petit prince who lives on a tiny planet with two suns.

I heard it quoted in an ad the other day- A book is nothing but a machine for time travel- and so it is.

And so it shall be. For times to come. Amen.

Lost in Translation

A sideways glance. A sigh.

Who knew Europe could be so hard on his American heart?

Another glance. A murmur..”Oi Lienda…”

She glanced up, fluttering eyelashes. Questioning look.

“Belle que fai?”, he asked

A hesitant smile. Smiling, but not comprehending.

“Bonita, bonita que tal?”

A raised eyebrow. Still silent.

“But Belle…”

She interrupts with a soft sigh and a raised hand “Je ne comprends pas francais…So you’ll have to speak to me..some other way…”

He smiled and shook his head…so much for lost in translation…

"Hi", he began afresh...

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Jack Johnson came up with this 1 minute 30 second gem called "Belle" for his (apparently) multilingual wife. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sfn2aq4RVos)

And listening to it, I just thought of a man- trying to figure out what language his lady love speaks. Those lines are the lyrics of the song:

Oi Lienda: Hello, beautiful. (portuguese)
Bella que fai?: Beautiful, what are you doing? (italian)
Bonita, bonita que tal?: Beautiful, beautiful, how are you? (spanish)
But belle: But beautiful
Je ne comprends pas français: I do not understand French (french)
So you'll have to speak to me
Some other way

The Fool

“Don’t!”

“But why not?”

“Really, what do you know about it?”

“Know? What is there to know? No one knows- that doesn’t mean no one shall ever find out”

“But why does it have to be you? Wait and watch- Learn from others’ experiences. This can do you no good”

“Why not me? Why are you so anxious? Nothing came out of thinking and waiting. Look at the beauty around you… What are you so scared of? The heights, the edge, or both?

“I am not scared of the heights or edges, I’m just… scared of what I might do when I am near one…”

“Then for once, do it. Without regards to what might happen…give in to the urge, the release, the anticipation and the exhilaration. Feel the wind against your face, defy the gravity, the fall shall help you rise again…”

He stood over the precipice, unbidden, unsought, but caught by a wave of euphoria. His hands trembling, eyes shut, a smile hovering about his face, he took a step. Then another. And then, there were none.

And he fell.

In love.

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I believe in tarot. And few cards speak to me like no other.

The fool echoes a question that most closely resembles life- To be or not to be. And as a fool, the answer always is – To BE! And How! It pulls you towards a life of reckless abandon & lustful laughs, begging you take chances, dare into uncharted waters and Fall- Fall for Life!

O me! O Life?

Walt Whitman... he and I are well, involved :)

I love his prose and made this ages ago. The best part about this? Well the best part is actually not included..Scroll below.

And the answer?

That you are here- that life exists, and identity;

That the powerful play goes on, and YOU will contribute a verse.

Genius, that man.