And we're back!

Nearly a decade after we first started, with occasional glimpses in between. I will not go through the process of describing what has transpired in the moments that I've been missing.

I left behind glimpses of it (well, not really, except my mildly depressing, confusing and needy poems). But my hope is the changes that have transpired are reflected in what I say and how I say it.

For now, here's to coming back (to this virtual) home :)

And in the spirit of setting intention. Here's where I'm hoping it goes while not setting any real boundaries or commitments (as always).

1) Act as a virtual journal and helps chronicle my journey
2) Something that stays deeply personal/vulnerable
3) Helps me keep track of my observations, ruminations, and reflections - which are ultimately the things that make me who I am.

Things currently on top of my head - an impending wedding and marriage, a much needed promotion and general reflections on long term career bets for the next decade, a quest to finding more clarity in thought and expression, and restoring and maintaining well-being (physical and emotional)

Void

Rush in, fill up
Take space, make room
Move fast, tic toc
Or slow, in groove

Saturated, to the brim
Give up, give in
For better, for worse
Practice, rehearse

Then stop, detract
Detach, step back
Leave, goodbye
Stay, say hi

Exit, detour
Make space, remove
Cherish, embrace
Let's start anew 

What do you do when there is no one blame?

It's easy when its a zero-sum game
There's a winner and a loser
A prize waiting to be claimed.

One's gain is another's loss
As both stare up at the sky
And wait for the landing of the coin toss

It's simple when there is someone to shame
A victor and a victim
With or without a name

But what happens when there are no winners
There are no losers and the game just is
How does the mind comprehend such a deal
Where the game ends and there's no one to blame?

The final thread.

                           


When a rope needs to be broken, each thread, each tie has to be severed bit by bit. I am sure it takes no time to break them compared how long it must have taken to put them together, but the process must be slow if done manually

There is something fascinating about that final thread that holds the two pieces together.

How would it feel to be at that point of severing the final link that binds the two pieces together? I wonder if that's the easiest or hardest to break. Does one feel like getting past it in a hurry, having gone through the excruciating process of breaking breaking of the endless threads before that, which was anyway much harder (since there were multiple threads in action then). Or does one pause, and take a moment. Perhaps to reconsider what they're doing, or maybe just give the rope one final glance, as one whole, as one entity.

In the end, what's broken is broken. The rope pieces may now be apart, but can they ever be fully independent of each other? Irrespective of whether they realize it or not, whether each piece gets tied to something else or not, whether they become a part of something much grander - which I am sure they will - or lie as a useless by product of a well functioning rope.

My belief is that the thread that makes them what they are, still binds them - both pieces have the same thread. Each part (I hope) has an irreplaceable trace of the other. And that point of breakage, well that I believe would never leave its mark. It will always bring back memories of being one entity and also that of the breaking point, being held together by, and finally breaking off, that final thread.

Nostalgia is like salt on the wounds of a broken heart..

..forgive the melodrama. That is just me.

Goodbye.

To people. To this year. To a troubled state of mind.

For good. Goodbye.

The end

If tomorrow would be the last day,
I would write you a long letter
I'd come all the way to drop it,
and give you a long drawn hug,
I would let you know, with all my heart,
that you are, and will be my drug
I'll take a sniff off your hair, breathe it all in,
I would give my life, and all I have
For a repeat, a restart, to re-begin
But I give up now, and suspend all hope
I failed to be the one, the biggest failure of all
Now there is no right for remorse.

When darkness comes

Words by another person, in a finer language and in a more impressive voice, can be an antidote to an anxious mind. Makes you revel in the madness, while not feeling alone and psychotic about it.

It's okay that I wont ever be able to articulate or utter things that go on in my head so beautifully. As long as there are some people who do.

And a thank you to the two people who kindled the fondness for these people and their words in my mind, even though they opted (willingly or unwillingly) to leave.

Pack up, and leave.

Imagine moving into a new house - make it big/small/shabby/fancy to the extent that pleases your senses, we are imagining after all.

Now imagine the process of (what people commonly refer to as) "making it your home".

Imagine the anticipation of moving in. Imagine painstakingly, yet excitedly spending time to make it an extension of your personality, filling each nook and cranny with things that make you feel that the place is a part of you. While the colours, and the fabrics, and the furniture is what the world sees, it is your tastes and the unique combination of things pictured in your head and then, then picked and chosen carefully to make the space yours. Imagine the pride and joy of putting it all together, imagine being naive enough to want to show it off to the world. Imagine putting so much toil, to what could be snatched from you at the blink of an eye. Human beings are idiots.

Imagine feeling afraid that it might not be what you want it to be, that it might disappoint, it might not accurately reflect who you are. Imagine the feeling of giving up when it all starts seeming too pointless. It is just a house after all and those are just "things" you're filling it up with. But that doesn't make a house your home. It doesn't happen in a day, but it happens nonetheless, irrespective of intent; well, most of the times.

After a point of time, the nooks and crannies are filled not just with things you picked and chose, but a lingering smell of you and your co-inhabitants. The outlay is embedded is so deeply in your head that you don't need light to walk around and figure your way. Comfort comes, not from the colours of the wall or the softness of the mattress but something else, the sigh at the end of the day, accompanied by a "I'm home" ring in the head. Imagine feeling that acute sense of belonging to what was hitherto just a permutation of things and walls and colours. At some point, it transcends to become so much more.  At some point, it becomes what you look forward to at the end of each day, what you long for every vacation, it's the place against which you benchmark every route you take. Whether it's clean or messy, it still defines security, comfort, and peace for you. Something unique - perhaps time, perhaps familiarity, perhaps hope, perhaps that initial anticipation and love, perhaps people, perhaps memories, perhaps ownership, perhaps commitment, perhaps effort that it demands off you - translates all things tangible into something more than feelings or words.

There are of course days when a minor leak, shock or break might annoy you. When repeated pest infestations might make you feel that this place is just not worth it. But you know you seldom mean what you say. This is what you built with your own bare hands.  You love putting in the effort to keep this place, your abode, intact, and as completely yours as it ever was. There are such few things that are.

Imagine being in such a place and then, unexpectedly, out of the blue, being asked to pack up, and leave.

.. to be continued

**

Say Something

I realized it's been a year since I posted anything. Perhaps it is time that something is said. To save yet another thing to give up on me and to save myself from giving up to. Might be a futile attempt, but I am hoping these hit and trials will lead to something, someday. 

Inane lifeless things are mean't to come to your rescue when all else begins to fail. Maybe this can be the ear I need to be lean't. Don't worry, I am not in denial of how pitiful I sound. I am en route to correct that, albeit with little success. But acceptance is one step ahead of denial and for now, lets be content with that.

A plea of desperation from someone always eager to say, but now helpless to listen.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BmErRm-vApI&index=30&list=WL

Wanting

There is this delicate balance of contentment and want that you need to tread to happily keep going. More often than not, the balance slips and causes discomfort, anxiety and annoyance - with the world, with yourself. Point is the balance isn't even something we are proactively chasing. We are chasing our wants mostly, contentment just strikes as this moment of epiphany once in a while (the epiphany is retained each time that happens).

Is it insecurity or is it fierce ambition? Is it complacency or satisfaction? Is it slumber or indifference? Is it who you are or is it what you do? And aren't most of those A's and B's in the A or B? above just two sides of the same coin. In which case, is this really happening or is this me mistaking it for something it isn't.

Pardon (non existent readers) for the over abstractness of the above. Hopefully you are just like me and get it. Perplexing, isn't it? This song makes for a near perfect representation of thoughts at this point.

House of Cards

On many a days, these nimble hands got the idea of creating something big and tangible with a pack of cards. These had to be adequately new (enough to stand their might) and worn out (to have the friction with the ground to not slip). They taught the importance of right timing (the tipping point between being new and worn out for the cards) that goes into the beginning of building something or creating something from scratch. Something that has the ability to hold fort for long. It also reiterated the basics of care, concentration, patience and vision that was needed to keep adding layer upon layer. The vulnerability of the whole exercise along with your own happiness that came with it was known from the very first instance - a stroke of wind, the blow of an evil cousin/friend is all it would take. All you could do was sulk over poor luck (in case someone accidentally turned the fan on) or the apathy of those around us (namely those evil brats that would kick it over).

Why was there such joy around in creating something so vulnerable and fragile? Especially because one started off completely aware of its impermanence from the very start. Why not invest time in something more valuable and concrete (even if it did hone valuable traits such as focus and patience)? Is there some adrenalin rush that accompanies creating something that is known to be open for anyone to casually destroy and seeing it stand the test of time? Or is there some emotion within the nervousness and excitement that no other situation could create. I don't still quite understand. I fail to understand this chase to keep on creating a house of cards that is waiting to be crashed. 

Overuse of the word frailty. Because nothing describes things better.

There are moments when the frailty of everything around you overwhelms you. Does that happen to you? I know it does to me, a lot. Frailty not only of every "thing" (in terms of context/situation and even the things you believe to be tangible) that might alter in a split second or every person but also of the way you see yourself and the world.

If you are one of those who is above all of this and realize the impermanence of it all and are be able to do what truly gives you every day satisfaction, I respect you. I recognize it. I think I am far from practicing it though. Since today came as one of those days of epiphany to me (for reasons best untold), I would say that realization without action is perhaps the worst position the be in. I say this not with a sense of self pity but with a sense of disappointment. Disappointment of letting go to waste, a mind that sees and senses with impeccable clarity what matters and what doesn't, what it takes to go on everyday versus what takes to realize a true sense of self worth in life. What is it anyway?

Let me not confuse this further. The point is, how you feel is a function of ephemeral judgements and opinions and perceptions of people. These are in turn based on contexts and situations that may dramatically change. Which in turn depends on how you act, which they say emerges from what you feel or your ability to regulate the impact of what you feel on how you chose to act, the former being a function of extreme impulse sometimes.

I get a strange sense of clarity today in my head. Clarity that is both liberating and unnerving and depending on which feeling stays for longer it might drive a decision I believe could have a bit of a butterfly effect. I just wanted to make sure I kept record of the moment. And also ask the frail being crossing this piece of writing on what will they let define them - will it be frailty and the lack of belief or frailty and the existence of faith?

Exaggeration

**

They said it was trivial,

she said she thought so too

Too much traffic of thoughts in there

Much to no adieu 

Changes must be enacted

Emotions held at bay 

Whats in your head does matter

Till it begins to decay 

The decay may be yours

Don't make it mine too 

The picture, mine's a big one

Details, they can't woo

I know when it's most important 

I've acted many a moves

I know you've held it back as well

Once or was that two?

Exaggeration knows no bound dear,

all it makes you do is defend

It may be where your life begins

But it's where mine ends

Too much too long together it may seem

At too early a time 

It's all but a pin prick in the face of my picture

Perhaps, in yours, a line 

So with that end these trivialities

and a glorious time begins 

Exaggerate you must not dear

But don't worry, you have me as a friend

**

Things left behind.

Sometimes letting a person/thing/place go is much more than just the physical separation or absence. Often you may have anchored so much of your life and thoughts around it that the thought of distancing leaves a void. I think it happens in school, college changing of houses/neighborhoods - the bout of nostalgia, the feeling of being lost. Of course more than often, the goodbye is also accompanied by a new introduction and a feeling of moving ahead, building on things of the past - having made the most out of them, harboring the hope of doing both yourself and the place good by this act of moving on - moving ahead is natural, it's destiny, after all. I wonder how the thing being left behind feels?

It had anchored itself completely to you as well and perhaps never thought of moving on. You are not to be blamed, by any definition. Maybe the house is stupid, hell it's not even suppose to think and "feel" such things, right? It wants the best for you, it really does - but you leaving is not only a separation for it; it's a moment of epiphany, of the things that lay ignored as it spent time with you (no, it's not regret, trust me), of it's own nothingness without you, of it's inability to share your enthusiasm at this juncture and sometimes, even doubting this nostalgia you show. It can't blame you, it doesn't want to, but it is most certainly set off on a spate of self criticism for putting so much at stake with your promises of being there forever.

Where the hell does this come from, there were no promises - at such a stage, you can't make promises and even if you do, it must be unsaid yet understood that they may not be kept due to changing circumstances. You have a life to build, besides your time here was what - a pimple in the overall timeline and of course you will eventually return. You care for me, right? Wait, I shouldn't ask you such questions, your do of course. I am happy for you, this will be good - for you to do what you wanted to to and for me to be able to attend to chores that lay ignore in the enthusiasm of being with you. It will resume, meanwhile I'll try to live up to be interesting enough to either keep you home or not lose it on losing you.

Take care my friend.

Your brief old abode. 

The losing cry

Maybe there is no such thing as failure if you think (or don't think) about it. All are simple states of the mind so guess it doesn't change the world. But it does change you, it does change the way you see things and consequently those that you find yourself able and willing to do. 

It's all about perspective. You have to do things to live - to earn it up or to entertain yourself or to keep perpetuating the belief that you are doing some good to the world or to your own happiness. But there are times when you simply aren't making even one inch of a difference to the happiness of others or yourself, nor are you making a tangible contribution that someone cannot do without. At such times it becomes all too easy to lose that tiny thread of hope, that necessary feeling of gratitude and that inherent 'drive' that keeps you going and makes you want to keep yourself, if no one else, happy and surviving. 

Getting caught in a vicious downward spiral is something that happens all too often with people - I've seen some go through it as a phase and others who lived through it altogether - until the final, end all crash came. It happens and no one cares, no one can cure it, no one can halt it but oneself I guess. It has it's repercussions - on one's mind, one's sense of self belief and the life that one could have lived; it fuels insurmountable regret and self pity - both extremely dangerous destruction forces; it hurts and spoils the lives (not irrevocably, not for continuously) of those close to you and basically, brings no good.

But it's not impossible to escape. The construct of such a situation lies purely in one's choices. Choices that one starts believing are no longer in his/her hands. But they are - in whatever limited constrained way they are open to the rest. Maybe it's proactiveness, maybe it's contentment, maybe it's speeding up  or maybe it's slowing down - haven't quite figured yet the exact ingredient and time that it takes, but hope to get there sometime, sometime soon. 

Until then, the losing cry continues; one that makes me mock it as much as it makes me relate to it - 

The time it has just passed by

I've been an onlooker and a spy

In empty days and scary nights

Stagnation and the search of light

In this place, I never wanted to be

Being bound by only me

Never before have I seen such defeat

Such helplessness, there can be no feat

I’ve been the perpetrator, the victim, the ally

Where to put the blame and why

When to start over and how

Cannot comprehend now

How could this have meant to happen

How did the will get so slacken

Was the past just a farce

A means of keeping me in the dark

The faith, the reason, the hard work, the pride

Dissected, dejected and destroyed

The strength, the power, the spider in me

Squished, crushed and just emptied.

**

Retrospect

This one lay as a draft for way too long in my account. A friend's blogpost triggered me to finally get over the inertia and get it out

It's just one of those days when you feel like taking stock of all that has happened. For me, what triggered it was just a particular day that made me think of a year back and how things had turned around since then. I was rendered feeling disconcerted for a bit - as I seem to overemphasize the not so good occurrences. But then one's mood swings up and down - I figured that just as I am prompted to rant out the negativity, once in a while I should vent out this feeling of calm, albeit a fleeting one that comes over. 

Getting out of one's comfort zone is both an enjoyable as well as unnerving experience; the course and outcome of events that follow really determine the way you look back at time gone by. Some of us like to dwell in constant regret, others like to make the most of what comes their way, some just like going with the flow while some just like being in a fighter mode and just turn things around with the advent of a new phase. Well, changes are necessary and unavoidable - I wouldn't say I'd do away with the unpredictability of changes that ensue in one's life but often I am left with the feeling of having some control. No I haven't witnessed enough to be making such profound sounding statements, but I believe each of us have our own philosophers inside us - this is just mine coming to life.

I am reminded of people lost, and unfortunately there have been quite a few, of reassurance that being loved makes you feel, of the faith that things do have a way of falling in place eventually, of the fact that 'in place' itself needs to be rightly defined. People have bad/low/unproductive phases in life - one should be (and this is more for my future self) open to being patient and helping them out as much as possible, yes some things are just out of your hand..but things are meant to be that way.

All said and done - change happens and I'd like to take a fatalist stand at this point of time, just to absorb and soak all that I have learnt over the past (almost close to a) year. I have made many mistakes, faced some bad luck here and there - but also found and known things that are hopefully there to stay for a long long time to come. A lot of these are reflections about self and a lot are simple things that luck/chance/fate/probabilities seem to have brought in, some are fleeting thoughts of things that must not be felt - envy, self hate, inferiority, insecurity and utter lack of belief and enthusiasm; some are just around the pure, unadulterated high that being in love brings.

Maybe I am coming to conclusions too soon  - but it seems like some things, mindsets, attitudes, opinions have undergone a fundamental change. Nothing commensurate has happened to trigger this change and there are chances it might just be an aberration, who knows. As time goes by however, and you meet more and more people - grow closer, grow apart - you just eventually realize that unless you can love, console, appreciate and ground yourself - there is little hope.

Saying Goodbye

There are a lot of goodbyes and farewells we all face from time to time. Some bid to us, and some by us. It's difficult to say which one is the hardest. I happen to be under the influence of one kind at this point of time so just feel the need to say out loud and remember, more importantly, the feeling and the person.

Yes, no denying that goodbyes are hard. There is the bitter feeling of letting go and reminiscing the good times that the place/person brought to you - sometimes it is the convenience or the routine or your sense of comfort that is so deeply tied to them, sometimes it is the pain caused by the loss to someone you love. Letting go of some of these people (or places or set ups) leaves you feeling distraught, and a little selfish. Relationships you have with people can never be replaced and it's only seldom that you'll even find close substitutes. But the uniqueness or the special element doesn't really hit your conscience until it is time to let it go. You then have no option left but to chide yourself of the times you could have used better to stay connected. 

People change, leave and act strangely - maybe that means that you should not center your lives too much around them. Stoicism is easier preached than practiced. I have always found myself to be pretty self centered and not too attached to people/situations..maybe I am still not and am getting a sinking feeling because of the disruption that this particular goodbye would cause. Often times you just prioritize other things over maintaining the right frequency of conversations with people you love - and prioritization is a ruthless and awful task.

Anyway, just want to remember what this particular person leaving told me and taught me - to wholly give yourself to caring for someone and making their life better, may not appear as rewarding at first but can turn out to be quite a fulfilling and liberating thing to do. If your own life ever screws up badly, try removing focus from yours to someone else's and things can become much simpler to understand and do.

Breaking of a bubble

Consciously or not, sometimes we end up constructing these bubbles around us - of illusions about people, situations and the seriousness (or the lack of it) of circumstance. Not all of us understand and comprehend reality and how much we are responsible for it at the same pace. This lands us in a slew of false beliefs and notions of things being fine, of us being capable or of fate having a way to work out things for us. Typically this would happen if you have been protected/shielded too much or at some level have made the decision to keep yourself away from listening and taking decisions on things that you assumed were just beyond your domain of thinking. 

Cliches are usually true and time has a way of dawning on you realizations that you might have been trying to avoid. When the realization of a time forgone, of a certain way you had been till now not being feasible anymore comes in - it leaves you with mixed emotions. There is a renewed sense of purpose, a feeling of fear from the risks and responsibilities that would follow, of doubt - as to whether it would be possible for you to take it on, of strength. Most of all (yes I am dramatic) - that the game where you make the way has finally begun, for better or for worse is something that (as per cliches again) time will tell. 

Dependence

There is a very thin line between support and dependence; here I speak entirely in a people's context (to be taken with a pinch of salt since I usually make generalizations and state opinions based on excessively limited data points - mostly my own). There is the feeling of tremendous safety and comfort one gets in trusting someone and having someone to lean on. As kids, teenagers, young adults some of us continue to be in the protective bubble that parents tend to create - not even realizing it was there until it's gone - and finally it comes as epiphany when you are stranded alone fending for yourself. And here fending is open to multiple interpretations.

Such a feeling is quite unnerving yet there is some element of liberation to it. I think it comes to different people in different ways, as the exhilarating rush of independence or maybe the strength that accompanies facing something brutal alone (again pardon the use of extreme words - it's all I know) or the fear that ensues having landed in shit that must be faced without guidance or support. Whatever be the route - I am gradually beginning to realize that it is one of the most important things to happen to any person in the process of 'growing up' and trying to survive and lead a seemingly purposeful/ useful existence. I don't believe that 'growing up' happens in a phase or at an age, I think it is supposed to (and usually does) go on forever..only a few of us are able to accept and appreciate that more easily, I don't know whether I'll be able to but it is reassuring to make such supposedly meaningful statements sometimes.

There is this conflict in being close to people, you end up making an unconscious transition from treating them as your support system to leaning on them completely and sometimes letting go of the rest in the process - for good or for a while depend. Either way it spells disaster, or would spell disaster soon enough. People usually have this unsaid capacity of being able to listen to only a limited amount of other people's woes (unless they are being paid by the hour for it, read: therapists), which is a good thing actually as it prevents one from endlessly wallowing and keeping hold of oneself. But at the same time it prevents you from experiencing what some of us envisage to be an all consuming relationship with some one (a friend, a teacher, a parent or a pet) where you lay yourself like an absolutely open book and are accepted for precisely that. 

I don't know if I've managed to get the vague point I was trying to make here come across but frankly as long as it helps me understand it better, it does serve some purpose. Not everything anyway in this world is supposed to serve a purpose. With this I shall try to slow down the defensive person in me a little bit. I only manage to write about things which are more often than not blurred in my own mind. I suggest to anyone who resonates with that line of thought to write it out - it is likely to be a guilt free, almost risk free way of finding support within and trying to depend only on yourself.