It’s a Kinda Magic.

I will always remember how I loved reading fairy tales and stories just as every normal child did when they were kids. I also remember how, though many of my friends soon seemed to outgrow that stage, it took me longer than most to do so myself. My favourite story was Tom Thumb; the little boy who was as short as a thumb but with adventures bigger than any other person around. I always hoped, wished and even prayed for a little man or woman of my own to call my friend. It did happen; but when my younger brother came along, I did realize that he was a tad bit bigger than Tom Thumb ever was!

As I grew up, I slowly lost my faith in magic and magical happenings. I felt that I had grown above and beyond those things, and every magical thought, wish and dream was drowned in the cold ocean of reality. Now, however, at the age of 16, I’m beginning to wonder; was I wrong to do so?

What if magic DID exist?

A different kind, of course than potions and a wave of a magic wand, from poison apples and spells and wishes granted. Today, on a long walk home from Santacruz Station, I pondered on why these stories were told and read to us from the time we were little. Was it just the, “goodness always prevails,” or “don’t be greedy” that we was being drilled into our heads? Or was it something more than just  that?

Cinderella, a poor, bedraggled girl with no prospects and not much hope still wanted to find love , though her chances were nil. She managed to do this when her fairy godmother appeared out of nowhere, dressed her up and sent her to the ball. Was it the make-up or the gown that Prince Charming fell in love with?  It was her; the beauty and simplicity that was her. All she needed was an opportunity, and the courage to grab on to it and make it work for her.

Sleeping Beauty was cursed to sleep for all eternity, but her Prince Charming road up to her castle, kissed her and brought her back to life. The same goes for Snow White.

Children can’t understand big, complex concepts like, “When you get an opportunity, grab on to it, and fight, because it might never come again, becuase the world is a cruel, harsh place.” Nor do we want them to. We want our children exposed to all of the good and warmth of the world possible till the last moment. They can, however, understand that because of her ‘fairy godmother’ dressing her up so that she could attend the ball, she found true love and that saved her from misfortune. Old ‘Ella could just as easily have said she was afraid or that she didn’t dare do something like that, but she never did. She grabbed on to opportunity, grabbed on to chance, and rode her way to happiness and success, and Pretty Boy *ahem* Prince Charming later showed that he loved her even in rags.

Sleeping Beauty, due to an old evil Crone was forced into slumber and dormancy. Her soul was cold and lifeless, but love’s true kiss woke her up, as with Snow White.

Later on, children realize that they don’t really have fairy godmothers. Old, sweaty aunties who feed them jalebis and pinch their cheeks, yes, but not fairy godmothers. But sooner or later, we all realize that we don’t need FGs to get us what we want, because what the story tried to tell us, what it really was all about was snatching at opportunities, fighting against all odds, and finding happiness despite all that’s against you.

Maybe an old witch’s curse wasn’t what made so many Beauties out there fall asleep and ‘die’. Maybe it was a broken heart, no prospects, depression, sorrow, whatever. But like Sleeping Beauty, despite being forced into frigid and frozen languishing, there will someday be a Prince Charming to come rescue you and awaken you to the world, and to all that beauty out there that they closed off with their souls, no mattef how unlikely it seems.

And that, friends, is why I think Fairy Tales were made. Not just to entertain, but for children in their own way to understand and forever remember that there is always hope and goodness left in the world, no matter where or who you are. And for them to know that there will always be magic. At their fingertips, in their eyes, in their hands, in their hearts. And that magic will get them through it all, make good all the bad and the wrongs done, just like a little spell from a  good old Fairy Godmother.

When you’re down in the dumps, read a fairy-tale.  You’ll know that there’s always reason to smile.

Contemplatingly yours,

The Observant Lefty.

A size too big for me.

It’s been ages since I’ve actually written anything.  Please guys, don’t throw rotten tomatoes at me, because I love each and every one of you for still staying with me all this while! So here goes!

Today, I quit my job. After 18 long days’ worth of devoted, dedicated service, the pain at having to let go after such a long tenure in office was almost… unbearable. And to think, after all the hours I spent at it, not even one of my blasted co workers even wished me well, or stood up and clapped for me as I walked out the door, nor shed even ONE tear for the great, gaping void that I would leave behind…. The anguish.

Scoff all you want, but for the 16 years that  I’ve lived, 18 days IS A LOT. So there.

Jokes aside, I guess most of you out there didn’t even know I was working. If you term buttering up old receptionist aunties from music institutes trying to convince them to buy copies of a magazine WORK, that is. Well, I did, and believe me you, it’s not as easy as it sounds.

Even for a suave, attractive young bloke like me.

Well, readers, rather than rant and rave about what a terrible job it was, and how everything seemed to be going against my favour, (both of which, by the way, are true…. What?! Just saying!) I choose to think of my motives behind taking a job in the first place, how they were duly thwarted and my subsequent eating humble pie.

As all teenagers, I wanted to be ADULT-like. I wanted to be mature, begin my first steps towards independence and self-assurance. Like every proud teen filled with great ideas and even greater hopes and dreams, I tried my hardest to work towards this, and I’m proud to say, I failed miserably. However, the struggle to try to be more than ordinary, the fight to be recognized, the need, no, the desire to get into what they always call the ‘real’ world was a hard one. I learnt a lot of things, some of which I was better off not knowing and understanding in the first place.

What I want to tell my fellow teens is something that I feel they need to know. Many a times, we’re biting at the leash to be out and about, we look to grow up faster, to stop the placating hands on our shoulders and to push away the stares and silent smiles that say, “well, what do YOU know? You’ve never been out there like we have!”

Guys, don’t. Because, someday, years later, when you’re beaten down, when you’ve jumped into “The Real World” well earlier than you were meant to, when you didn’t let time and growing-upness take it’s course, you’ll look back and wonder why you squandered all those care-free years, those sun lit days, those dreamy nights on something that you were heading towards, that you would soon grow sick of doing everyday, anyways. You’ll wonder why you didn’t just BE what you were supposed to be; dependent, but free, agyaan, but (somewhat) innocent; held down, but flying high.

Be what and who you’re supposed to be at our age; care free and spirited, happy, confused, sometimes daunted, dreading, afraid, but always, ALWAYS ready to laugh all your problems off in a slower than slow train to Andheri at 5:15 P.M, arms around your friends, heads thrown back, not a care in the world, with the world at your feet caught up in that moment, crowing with joy. It will be a moment that you will never, ever forget, and one that will never happen if you want to skip steps and become an adult faster than you’re meant to be.

Besides, what do you REALLY want at 60? That extra line on your resume? Or a fond memory like that, which will make you smile, even when there are barely any teeth left to do it?

Contemplatingly yours,

The Observant Lefty.

Growing Pains

It’s a funny thing, being a teenager.

Because you never know what you want. And sometimes you wonder if you ever really will.

You want to be independent. You want to be strong. You want to stand on the tips of your toes, stretching towards everything that life has to offer you, to taste a coffee that you bought for yourself at a café, while poring over texts full of loves, lives and living. But at the same time, you want to be at home, listening to your mother’s woes and worries as she runs around the kitchen, making you laugh. You want your dad to hug you and you want to hear, feel and smell everything in that little touch, years of love and dependence in that one embrace.

You want to make a name for yourself, a career to perform, you want to love working and working hard. You want to love loving your own work and admiring it at the end of the day. But all in the same moment, you want to be out and free with friends, chilling at park or the beach, laughing and fighting. Just the same as always.

 You want to grow, but you want to keep the past with you, as part of yourself forever. You want to experience love. The truth of it, the things that all the books talk about, the songs and the poems, the emotions that course through lovers when they’re with each other. But at the same time, you want to hold onto little crushes and feelings, you like the simplicity of it all, and you know that someday it will all be different.

You want to be by yourself for once, you want to know that everything at home is your own, not shared with anyone else, not made and brought forth by others. But you also want to be taken care of, loved in ways that aloneness will never provide. You want protection, but you desire to escape the shell of it.

Most of the time, we teenagers never know what we really want. It comes with being in this middle stage of neither-here-nor there. It’s special in it’s own right. It has it’s beautiful moments; a first kiss, the first salary earned by oneself, a passion, a fire, burning ambition unique to this stage alone, quiet moments at windows, listening to the pitter-patter of rain and feeling all the freshness that follows. As I was told when I entered my teens, “It can be the best or worst time of your life.”

We all doubt. We all wonder where, how, and most importantly, WHO we will turn out to be. But though it’s difficult to understand sometimes, it’s important that we know that we’re not alone. Not by a long shot. And though we sometimes fear we will lose ourselves that should never be a concern, for you’ll only ever know the value of something once you lose it. And don’t worry. Because eventually you will wade back to where you are meant to be, or if not, swim off into rivers fresher and more beautiful than those you left.

It can’t be promised that we will grow up to be just the way we want to be, just the way we imagined ourselves. But it can be promised that everything about your future, every bit of it is in your hands. So step out there. Mould it. Make it. Believe. Love. Dance. Dream. Do. And don’t look back. Because it’s just not worth it.

 

Growingly yours,

The Observant Lefty.

Words whispered to The Universe…..

“I did not treasure the spark that was me; uniquely me. If I had been the gyrfalcon that my father had called me, I would have flown high, and nested in cold, lonely places, and ridden the free wind. Instead, I have been like a bird in the  mews, always tied and sometimes hooded. never free and sometimes blind.

As God is my witness, if I live through this night, if I live through this week, I shall try to be true to myself in the future. If God spares me, I shall try to honour him by being me, myself.”

- Philippa Gregory; The Boleyn Inheritance.

 

Today, this day, is not quite different from yesterday. People say that each day is special; filled with intrigue, plot, character and beauty, which makes it different from yesterday. And the days before that. And tomorrow. And the days after that. And times to come.

But that’s just what THEY say. And to be perfectly frank with you, they never seem to know what they’re talking about.

Unless they’re Willy Wonka. He always knows what he’s talking about. But that’s a whole different thing, altogether.

Today isn’t quite different from yesterday. Ordinary. Mundane. Filled with the occasional pang of sorrow or sinking despair or a lap of joy; the odd ticks and turns the heart performs now and then. Still, it isn’t quite different from yesterday.

 

How about a pact?

Yes. One of those all-promising, never-compromising kinda pacts. However,this pact will be special. And in promising it, I will ensure that though many days have been lost to mundaness and triviality, this trend will continue no further.

Back to the pact.

Universe, today, quietly, passionately, silently, I whisper to you. I whisper to you from the silence and stillness that pervades in the depth of my heart, from where ideas and thoughts are formed, desires built up, and from where these words come out and are given to the little world, as a silent offering for all I grab from it. But, then again, that’s just the little world. I now whisper and call out to the universe to hear my plea. A far greater thing than the world by far. I’ll get back to you on that one.

Back to the pact.

The pact. Yes. This pact, states that from today, no day will ever be the same as yesterday. And no tomorrow will be allowed to take the shape of its yesterday. In addition to this, another whispered wish, another whispered desire I would make. It goes like this: From this day, let the desires and wishes of others never manipulate me, never hold me, never control me and never light me along a path I would never wish to tread.

Too long it’s been that I keep looking around to love and to receive love from people who wouldn’t bat an eyelid for me. Today, I say, enough. It is a quiet whisper. It is an assertion. The heart calls out, anguished by the betrayals, steadily taking place one after the other. But more; it calls out for the fact that The Self allowed these betrayals to take place, smiling, laying flat like a stupid doormat, allowing the trampling of boots and heels of home wreckers to enter its confines and gleefully tear to shambles all that has been built up within.Then comes slow, gradual healing. And then the doormat will then allow the next set of mosters to waltz in. And again. And again. And again.

 

Stupid, stupid doormat.

 

It’s not worth expending your, time, energy and life force on the world around you. Be selfish, live contentedly and die happily, knowing you did whatever pleased you and no one else. Or, you could go around trying to please everyone around you and then leave this world resentful, while they, (yes, all of them, apart from Willy Wonka,) will condemn you for just. Never. Doing. Enough.

 

Tiredly yours,

The Observant Lefty.

Thank You.

To the BB,

Thank you. For always being there. For tolerating the immature, jumpy hyper kid that was me. Thank you for loving the growing me, as I crack the egg that is my childhood and open my wings and eyes, looking around with large, uncomprehending eyes, to all that is adulthood.

Thank you for being one of the few people to who I’d say, “it hurts,” without feeling embarrassed. For being one of the few who can pet me, who can rub the ointment of healing on these wounds; the old ones and the new ones. For mothering me, for being tough when needed, for being the pillar of strength when I faltered. For laughing and smiling with me and at me, during all the good times and the bad.

For singing in the rain. For hours and hours on the phone, talking of big life decisions, policies, principles, practises and small preferences, little choices and tiny things. For being stupidly, lovingly, adorably you. For always fighting all that comes in your way. For never faltering. For being the perfect example. For showing me how it’s done. For lending an arm when the weight was too much to carry this cross alone.

For understanding. For looking at me and knowing all the things that go on beyond this face, things that no one else would ever know and grasp. For hugging me, for loving me despite all of that.

It’s special, what we have, and it’s always been. The vicious, insane, murderous, painful fights, the enduring silences, the broken egos, the jealousy, the anger…But always the love. Two sides to a coin. Or, two parts of the same bottle cap. My Dhakkan.

Just to let you know; I love you. And you’re amazing just the way you are. I’d ask you never to change, but then again, I know that’ll never happen. And I’m STILL not quite sure if that’s a good thing or not.

Lovingly yours,

The Observant Lefty.

Losing yourself, to the beauty of being found.

Hello there, well-beloved readers; it hasn’t been that long, has it now? But wait; before I bore you with my regular mad ranting, I do believe it’s time for a bit of a commercial break. There are a couple of blogs I want to introduce some of you all to; you know, for quality reading, because judging by the fact that you’re reading THIS, I think you need serious help. So, poke around these places for AMAZING reads and beautiful insights into life.

1.) http://www.wherestoriesareborn.wordpress.com/ : Where Stories Are Born is a blog I myself co-author with two of the most delightful people around. Who actually talk SENSE; think of it! We try to analyze and critique the latest books in the best ways possible, trying to work on our style of writing in the process.

2.) http://shitsalilsays.blogspot.in/ : For the most amazing laughs you’ve had in a long, long time. The sarcastic, humour cracked on self will have you grinning for quite a while.

3.) http://madamconfused.wordpress.com/ : For little truths on life, love and everything else in between.

4.) http://ankitakatiyar.wordpress.com/: For the most AMAZING posts you could definitely relate to and want to re read. Co-author #1.

5.) http://www.trance-writing.blogspot.in/ : For the coolest poetry around. Co-author #2.

6.) http://mappings16.wordpress.com/: This. Yes, this is most certainly the best blog that I have ever gone through. Ever felt lost, incomplete, itching to do something more with life? Well, this author lets you know that you are NOT alone. And here, you might even see that you’ve found what you’ve lost. Written in the most simple, eloquent terms possible, this writer WILL touch your heart.

7.) http://www.facebook.com/SentimentsChocolatess : For some of the most delicious and mouth watering chocolates, made in Mumbai, delivering all across India!

With that, I bring you back to my words, my thoughts and things I learn from life that I want to share with the world.

Sometimes, you wonder where you are. Where you’re heading. And where you want to go. Sometimes, you just don’t know what you really want anymore. Sometimes, you feel like you’re floating in a pool of Jell-O; frozen in time, when everything around you flies by in a fast flowing, gurgling stream. You regret not being able to be part of that stream, for not being part of that which passes by so quickly and easily.

Sometimes, you’re just lost.

I know how that feels. I’m lost, too. I’m swimming in Jell-O and the kind I’m in sure doesn’t taste good. I’m drifting at sea. Looking around and seeing nothing.

Sometimes, you’re just lost.

It’s not easy, being lost. You look around and you wonder if everything is wrong, you are steeped in self doubt and remorse for things that are long gone past. You feel old. In your bones, in your finger tips, in your heart. You look at the world you are patiently, pain stakingly building around you and you think, ‘Is this all worth it?‘ 

But then, you will soon be found. And THAT, that, friends, is a most beautiful thing, all on it’s own. It will happen suddenly, and the gloom lifts; the silence is broken, the light comes flooding back  into the heart you cordoned off from the world. How? I don’t know. It might happen when you are woken up to sweet, passionate kisses from the Sun through bright yellow, happy peeping curtains one morning. It might happen when you are woken up to sweet, passionate kisses from the one you love. It might be when you see and know that there’s much more to the world than you and yourself; the singing of birds, a slow dance, a little quote that touches deep depths, a song that sings of love, hope, strength and belief, a hug that goes on for just a second longer than usual.

And then, curiously, strangely, almost accidentally, you will smile. Everything will fall back into place, everything will seem to fit once again. 

 It’s a painful thing, getting lost. But it’s well worth it, just so that you can be found.

Found-edly yours,

The Observant Lefty.

Random Warbling

Readers,

I guess we’ve all noticed the sudden spike in the number of my blog posts recently. The reason being after around three months of very annoying writer’s block, I have finally recovered. With a vengeance. The very best of luck tolerating the new upsurge in my relentless typing. It’ll get worse before it gets better, I assure you!

Anyway, today I wanted to talk about….. Erm. Alright, this is embarrassing. I don’t really know what I want to talk about. Isn’t that odd? But something in me, somewhere knew that I WANTED to write. Something, Anything. At this moment. So I signed in on WordPress and here I am!

This must be annoying for you, isn’t it? You come here looking for a good read, hopefully some enlightenment from my confused, muddled up warbling, but get nothing but this…. Random, confused general writing. Which is almost becoming a sort of conversation between us. No, no, wait, don’t go yet! I’m thinking of something, no, really, hold on a second!

Yes! I have it! I know what I want to talk about!

Randomness.

#1. As in my last random post, a lot has changed, but some things just haven’t. I am STILL immensely scared of my very large feet. The sheer size of them is quite disturbing. Add that to the fact that they seem to be covered with a layer of carpet, and you’ve got yourself some kind of weird ape-human hybrid. I kid you not.

#2. Twitter is so informative! No, really, I didn’t even know an Indo-Pak match was going on till about half the world tweeted about it. Sigh. #thejoysoftwitter

#3. I hope this set of earphones last. What I do with them is, I fold them up VERY carefully, and then place them in a tiny pencil box! Yes! Yes, I am that concerned about the number of sets I get through in a day. Yes, I’m that jobless. Work with me here.

#4. I think I’ve finally, finally found a true best friend. Someone who is just amazing, who helps me create random theories and new words which I invent myself, who discuss Sterile people with me and pin-point other Friendsperate people and who helps me overcome Friendsperateness, myself. She will hereby be called Miss Ferns. And you will love her too. That is a direct command from The Observant Lefty.

#5. I love Libraries. And the best part about MY college, (yes, I’m gloating; get with it,) is that it has two libraries, and each one is beautiful in it’s own right. The Reference is The Hideout, where you can find me simply staring out of the window and where I go to snatch some peace from the day to day grind, breathe a little, smile a little, and think a lot. (not something I do anywhere else, or quite a lot, for that matter.) The Lending is The Workplace, where you can find me frowning intently at dusty volumes, chewing on a uniball, scratching my head in confusion over a particularly curious paragraph, and in general, doing actual, productive work.

#6. I want to dance. Actual, full blown dancing-a-jig-because-I’m-happy-crazy kind of dance. But the moment I begin such endeavours, I find everyone giving me ghastly looks, as if I’m growing a third eye before their very eyes. So I don’t try to do that very often. But I wish I could. Yet I still feel the desire to dance. Help me, universe! Find a way for me to do so without loosing friends!

#7. I want to marry three people. The first woman I will marry for the money and then murder, (AFTER having her sign a will bequeathing all her worldly possessions to yours truly,) so that I would live the rest of my life in luxury, then a wonderfully entertaining person, who would keep me laughing for a couple of years till I get quite bored with them and leave them, and the third for love.

#8. I want it to rain. NOW. Yet the skies do not grace me with such wild fantasies. Oh why, oh why am I so badly treated?

#9. I want all fat people officially banned from trains and buses by law. At least 10 more people per carriage could thus be allowed to enter. No more Homer Simpsons, no more, I say!

#10. Popcorn should be more freely available, not just at movie theatres. The gooey goodness is needed by all, for all, and must be shared with all. Isn’t that what Democracy is all about, anyways? Don’t look at me like that…..

#11. Cats make too much noise when they’re….Well. Doing their thing. They should stop. Seriously. Or get a room or something. I need my sleep.

#12. All these Harry Potter jokes are just plain stupid. Someone should just make them stop. Like, Siriusly……

#13. Thirteen is an unlucky number. We’re skipping this one.

#14. Much better. Yes, where was I? Yeah… So, I wonder where hiccups go when they GO. You know? It makes you think… Is there some sort of parallel universe where hiccups lay in rest till they Come Again? Like Voldermort? Scary…..

#15. This post was one of the most random I have ever posted. Yet I love it. Because it’s good to let loose, let slip, and not worry so much what people will think of you as they’re reading it. So, I hope you can sit through this one ridiculous reading for me. You just got to know my mad side a little bit better.

Randomly yours,

The Observant Lefty.

Room for a little Regret…

I wish you were THE ONE.

You know, The One I always wished you were? Yeah, that one. I wish you were that special One who I could call and sit and have long phone conversations about nothing while taking my smelly shoes and socks off after a long day and fall down laughing remembering a personal joke that we shared… Or something like that.

I wish you were The One on whom I could always, ALWAYS count on and with whom distance never really mattered. Neither the physical kind nor the emotional spaces.

I wish we could sit together in silence, without it being awkward. But we never could. I wish you were The One who would accompany me to coffee shops and spin tales with me and sip no-longer-warm-coffee with me and with whom I could laugh and cry with about everything and knowing full well that you understood.

I wish you were The One who could walk tip toe  into my house at any moment, who could make my new house my new home, and would help me find new spots for me to have me-ness time with in this little, tiny new, alien world of mine.

I wonder who you really WERE, since you never really were The One. Well, Whoever and whatever you were, I wish I could have you forever. You planted your fingerprints on the very essence of my soul, you were with me all those teary moments and outright-outrageous-madly laughing-crazy-ones, too.

Most of all, you opened up my Sweet Sixteen with me, and at that moment, that second, I had no one else, but you. It’s something I’ll never forget.

But now, maybe it’s time to let go? Time to say goodbye? Time to let us both wake up already, realize that it never made much sense , and to give this Oh-So-Important Title we have in our hearts to someone else?

Why, oh why, weren’t you The One?

The Search for Surety… Failed.

This post is dedicated to open-mindedness. And to all that it brings with it.

 

There was a time in my life where I was set upon all the things that I had and that were around me. These things were set in perfect, cool granite in my mind, engraved without a doubt, melded into my heart, soul and belief system eternally, and my entire body, lips sang and my fingers drummed to the tune of self-assurance and satisfaction I had playing my mind.. Everything around me was firmly established , and I believed my entire path was set out before me, a beautiful, easy gravelled path, with not a stone along the way, and not a rut to jump over. The people walking with me were also set, smiling in my mind’s eye, holding my hand, leading me , walking beside me, and nothing could shake my confidence in all of this. Everything was known to me, everything was to stay forever, nothing new would ever penetrate it; I had utter command of everything. Needless to say, the control freak that I am, I was thrilled.

But somehow, somewhere along the line, everything changed. The stones on which my beliefs, ideologies and policies were engraved upon were slowly but resolutely melted, leaving aside nothing but smelly goo in the wake of my hopes and aspirations. Nothing remained what it was, and I crawled into a ball, looking for surety in things like the rising and setting of the warm sun, the dribble of incessant rain on my outstretched palms, and the comfort that comes with reading books long known and loved, with each page as familiar to me as my hopes set in stone, (which were now nothing but melted waste) for surety.

During those days, something in me changed. In vainly trying to rebuild and recreate the destroyed system of life that I had planned for myself that now existed only in my imagination, I found in me thingsthat I never knew existed- Inner strength, courage, clinging pride, insecurities galore, but most of all, a strong love for Chilled Iced Tea.

During those days, when I found myself in a mess of sorts, walking around aimlessly with a cup of Iced Tea always in my hands, looking but not seeing, hearing but not listening, touching but not feeling, and the only sense of mine which remained functioning was taste, and food cravings, both of which I satisfied in equal measure, I realized that the most crucial mistake I had made that led to a complete break down of all things I clung on to was…….. just that reason. I’m so persistent and I do cling on so, to everything, and that’s why I had lost it all so quickly and so easily.

I had clung on to my beliefs, led myself onward with insistent confidence and assurance of my own destiny, life and love, that fate had dealt me a cruel but much needed hand; it snatched away everything I ever held to, slowly, insistently, patiently, one by one, stealing the cards from my hand, till the only thing I was left with was this insane and continuous need for a Philippa Gregory in my hand. I learnt, slowly and steadily, that the only permanent thing in life was change, and when I finally began letting go of things rather than being insanely stubborn and selfish, I slowly developed a sense of peace.

With nothing in my hands of any value anymore, I began to look around. Curiously. Quietly. Contemplating. Questioning. I saw the holes in my life, the places where things had gone missing, and I began to look and search for things that would replace them. What surprised me not was when I found replacements easily, but when seemed to be better than the places they were filling in, in the first place, and how they fit in, seamlessly stitched into the fabric of my heart, till the patchwork was completely new and unfamiliar to me, but yet suited to my very essence. 

It began with a favourite spot in The Reference Library. I claimed it for my own, and it soon replaced my lost reading spot besides the window, at the Old Place. Slowly, things began to fit again; I began to see and know and understand more than ever before. I realized that in setting my mind against newness, I had become closed minded, the very thing my Good Old Man always advises me against doing the most, and now I knew why.

I had lost out on so much beauty, so much experience, so much of life, simply by closing all my doors and refusing to accept that there was so much MORE than the little life, little circle of friends and little plans that I had fashioned for myself. So many people who had come knocking looking for places in my life went away disappointed, so many opportunities missed… But never again would this happen.

Never again will I hope to be sure of anything. Never again will I want to be. Never again will I close my doors against the world, forcing people to stand, chilled at my heart’s doorstep and walk away unanswered. I’m glad I lost it all, for if I hadn’t, who knows how much longer I would have walked around in darkness, bouncing painfully off barbed walls with even sharper barbed wires, inflicting nothing but pain upon myself, scrabbling in the dust for all that was over?

My search for surety failed. Completely. Thank God it did. Who knows how much longer I would have remained that stupid?

Happily yours,

The Observant Lefty.

What makes me smile…

Sometimes, I look all around me and wonder why I think so much. Everyone close to me always tells me that I over think things, and how come so many vast and diverse ideas rattle and bounce off across the confines of my otherwise pretty empty skull. Well, at this day, at this very moment, I’ve decided to look around me and think about things. Small things. Simple things, that make me smile and tap my foot to the beat of life. Here are some of them:-

The rains. Despite my petulant post long  ago about how I hate the rains because they don’t let me sit in my favourite spots in St. AbsolutelyLoveableyAwesomeness College, I still feel this connection with the rains. Especially the first rains of the monsoon. Oh, how they light up the world for me, how the little drops cling onto each leaf, and when you touch them, you’re hands come away wet with the most raw, natural, delicious scents nature has to offer.

Walking barefoot around the compound of The Home. The warm, real, heat exuded from baked cement sends waves of calm upwards through the expanse of my entire body… It’s one of the most relaxing things for me, sniffing at and around the earth and plants in The Garden that I love, knowing that this is My Very Real Home, and feeling proud about all that stands around me.

Hotels… And hotel rooms. Wow. That gets the stuffing knocked out of me. So much clear, beautiful, perfect…emptiness. Simplicity. No clutter strewn across the place everywhere, no messes to handle…And the amazing smell of freshly cleaned linens and bedcovers and everything all waiting to be ruined by yours truly. Sigh. Heaven.

Empty houses. So much to do, and so much space to do it! Till then, I can stop, drop and roll across the floor.. Simply ‘cos there’s nothing around, is there? And so I can. So there!

Long, imaginary talks in front of fire place with mugs of hot chocolate, (or just vodka shots.. whatever ) with people who really matter… Such as La Pandi Girl. Who is greatly missed. More than words can express right now.

Long, REAL talks in cafes over coffee which I don’t really like anyways, but just gulp down so that I get to be with the people who matter. .And so that I can run away for hours just… being there. Away from the world, closeted, alone.

Libraries. These, I can live in forever. The dusty volumes, the silence, the crinkled rustlings as a page turns in the emptiness, the absolute peace and tranquility that the environment brings.. Not much can beat libraries.

Books. Any and all kinds of ‘em. Empty ones are so full of promise and enterpirse; I used to get excited seeing them even as a kid. Books are ideas, lovingly packaged and shared. The  are treasures that MUST be guarded jealously.

Earning money. Actual, real. Money. With men’s faces all over the note! That kind. NOT monopoly money; I kid you not. The feeling of actually earning, of doing hard labour and then reaping your just rewards at the end of the day is just pure awesomeness. You also learn to value what you have there in your hand for once. First REAL life achievement. DONE.

Playing with babies. Just being around them is so much fun, because there’s no other creature on Earth that’s as innocent and pure as a baby, who won’t complicate things for you, who will never judge you, who will love you simply because you play nice and because they know that you’re really trying and can tell immediately when you’re not.

 

 

So, maybe this is a very random, unusual, un-me-ish post. But we all need some time to unwind, don’t we? Here’s how I do it: Writing. Writing about My thoughts, My me-ness, my bizzare oddities. These things that make me ME.

Oddly yours,

The Observant Lefty.