Mental Mayhem.

c

Blues by long distance

I need to be distracted, so the doctor said. I need to look for a refuge in something not related to you. So, what do I do? I sit by the old record player and dust it off , at the same time trying to fix it to a certain extent. It doesn't help. Even Miles Davis doesn't seem the same. One more sigh, and my focus on the record player decreases. Why are you not here anymore? Its like somehow the distance is no longer the factor to your sudden disinterest. It is no longer an excuse to why I can't let your deep baritone soothe me to sleep and make my pulse race at the same time. No longer is your smile instantaneous by the mere mention of my name. Where did it all go? A thousand reasons come to my mind, as causes of your sudden reclusive being. Maybe the beautiful city engulfed you in it so much, you didn't want anything to do with the city anymore, or the people in the city. Maybe some kohl rimmed beauty knocked you off your feet, and you pranced around her , making my presence fade away slowly. Maybe your conscience hit you, and you realized that my only 19 year old appearance doesn't appeal to you anymore. True, I am still a kid on the inside, but at one point every tantrum that 'kid' threw was the one which made your day. Not that its a good thing. I feel my throat tighten and my nostrils sting. Any minute now, the salty liquid would form a river and I'd slip into the same state of being I was some 3 hours ago. 

There were days when the mere mention by you, of looking at me, would make my insides tingle. When the way you talked , could make me feel alive again. What I feel now, is a mere obligation in the name of a relation between you and me. It is flaccid , it is dull , it is sheer monotony. Now your voice, no matter how very rare I get to hear it, is like the constant stabbing of my heart, the wounds only beginning to heal, before you inflict on them again. Your every word seems a farce, and so does your identity. Maybe the charisma of yours was just portrayal. Maybe you were a deceiver all the while. Maybe...

I don't ask for your pity and neither for your attention as formality. I ask for a reason, for this betrayal. I ask for a reason for your indifference. I ask how it doesn't bother you anymore. I ask for the sudden disappearance, and thus my melodramatic response. I am a kid at the end of the day, and the imbalance you have caused, or so to say your 'presence' has caused was never needed. You could have walked away , or rather you should have walked away. Left only the signs of a wound, and not have ripped off the flesh instead. It'll heal , but the mark remains , to be eternal.

My doctor says I need a distraction. I say I need a chance at redemption. To redeem myself, as to why I ever believed in something so superficial, so almost plastic and artificial. 

.....

You, however, good sir, need to get yourself checked. For instability and for a possible chance of dementia.

Life

As fragile as a leaf ,

torn apart to be shaped into something new

and then be thrown away

to wither among the others

soon I shall be part of this soil,

where I lay, and decay.

Soon my existence shall come to a halt.

I shall be the dirt, which one carries

without a care in the world

that what lies under the sole of their shoes

was once part of something beautiful,

something so rich, so alive

so joyous, yet so alone.

As dark as a shadow,

which follows its keeper’s every move

mimics the every dark move

every evil deed.

what happens when the shadows disappears

and there is no definition of the keeper

what happens when there is no light

for the shadow to find its way

what happens when the keeper

grows to be inclined towards the dark

he forgets what his shadow looks like

forgets the consequence of something wrong

and as if like a drug,

the dark world leads him through

wanting more, of what is in no limit

but what the keeper forgets

is that light is to come

and he can run away from what he does

but his shadow will reappear

and it will mimic its keeper again

making his deeds visible to family and all.

Life is dark, yes

and in that moment, one is lured

to do something so wrong

so unjustified

that in the light of the day

one is scared of how heinous

one can possibly be.

It can NEVER END.

This Friday is the so called end, of the 2 decade legacy of Harry Potter. The epic end to the very reason the books and movies existed. I remember being 9, and walking into the theater with my father, surrounded by other equally excited kids and their parents and friends. The look on every kid's face was of pure want. I myself never wanted the movie to end.

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's stone was as if a drug, to something so addictive, that now 10 years down the line, every dedicated fan is geared up to see how the movie turns out. To the extent, that if asked we fans can actually quote the dialogues exactly as they are in the book, from crucial scenes.

More importantly, it is no longer a mere work of fiction. It is a phenomenon. You'll find it to be such a highly discussed topic, its almost like it actually exists. At the back of everyone's mind, Hogwarts is actually a school which exists. You call me delusional? Ask the others.

J K Rowling did justice with the series, by giving us the best ending possible, but it still lingers in our head as to why did it ever have to end. Fans all across the world, are going to cry buckets when its finally over. This movie, is like the last string we are hanging onto. But what we forget is lthat it can NEVER END. Sure we won't be running back to the bookstores, standing in queues to buy the newly printed copies of the books, and then submerge ourselves into yet another extension of this legacy. Neither will we see the stars behind the movies, that is Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson and Rupert Grint, dazzle us, with an even more lively portrayal of what is only printed. In a way, let our imagination run free!

But, we'll always have the books, to go back down the memory lane, revisiting what once made us chuckle, made us cry., left us stunned, or in awe by how magnificent a world of fantasy could be.

Like I said, its a phenomenon. Its almost impossible to just push it aside, once its over. Its always going to be a part of a journey, of us being just kids, to now teenagers, and some already out of their teens.

Its not the end, Its only the beginning, of something bigger.. And since we can alter it at our will, something even better.

"Im proud of the curves."

You know the feeling you have, when you're about to meet a friend after some 8 years and odd? Everything comes back to you. You relive those moments, in your head, and smile as you wait for the person to come through that door.

So, was the same for me. Me and an old school friend, had decided to meet up. She told me she was in Delhi, for a week or so, and after a very long strenuous process of getting a good hold of her, and her number, we decided to meet at a cafe nearby my place. I remembered her as the most beautiful girl in the classroom. She had such beautiful, light features, that her one smile would light up a guy's day. She was my best friend those days, and considering how we couldnt stop talking over the phone, I assume safely she still is.

I expected her to be vivaciously stunning, in heels, and a proper chic get up, with the eyeliner and the gloss. You know, like a typical head turner is! Infact, I had already decided that my attire would be bland in front of her, anyway, so I just slipped on something random and made my way.

Instead, came this stout girl, in a Nirvana tshirt, and ripped jeans, through the door, smiling as she looked at me. For a minute , I thought maybe she mistook me for someone else, but when she called me out by my nickname, with the same glint in her eyes, I was determined it had to be her. But whatever happened, to those beautiful features, those tight jeans which hugged her body, like made for her, those dresses which her mother had made for her especially. They were all hidden under the double chin, the flab around her waist, the stretch marks, threatening to rip apart her tshirt any minute.

She then told me she suffers from thyroid, and the case was such that now her weight has been stabilized. She can't do anything to reduce it. I felt pity take over me for her, and as if she could sense it, she chuckled at herself.

"You know, I see so many of those girls, dressing up just like I used to, in those dresses and those heels, and I won't lie when I say I dont want to do the same. But, it is my fault that I am in a condition as such. I was on a gorging high for two to three years. Now, Im like this. And yes I am taunted, but what people forget is, I don't mind."

That took me by surprise a little , because she was a little conscious about how she looked 9 years ago, with all her clothes coordinated. I was always the plump one, so the clothes coordination and the hair and the dresses thingy. Infact, I was quite the tomboy. Nevermind me.

I was curious, so I asked her, "Don't you feel a little ashamed when you walk into a store and try one something and it doesnt fit you?"

She nodded, " Sometimes it does, but if the world were all about dressing, we wouldnt need brains na? I mean seriously, think about it. How does it matter that I can't fit into a proper pair of jeans, when Im enjoying what Im doing. I stand second in class, my teachers are all praise for me, and I love studying what Ive taken up! I'm a brainy kid. And as cliched, this may sound, looks come and go, but what you learn, and the way you mature, always remains. Nothing can erase that. Unless ofcourse, you want to transform yourself into something else, and brainwash yourself with all the glamour and glitz youre surrounded by."

I smile at what she says, and sip on my coffee while she continues, " I love my curves. Im proud of them. People can mock me all they like , but hey, we'll see whose laughing in a matter of 10 years from now, whatsay?!"

We laugh, and somehow the topic fades away among the things we had to catch up on, like how we both share an avid love for photography. But what she said, keeps lingering in one corner of my mind. For however long, atleast, she made me happy to have a few extra pounds on me, and not be like one of those airheaded chicks who'd rather worry about their diet schedule, than their study schedule.

To be honest a little bit of myself, was reflected in what I asked her. But she is right. Im studying to be a lawyer. The court is not going to grill me, if I have a few love handles. Course they will grill me, if I don't present myself as a lawyer well. At the end of the day, that's what Im going to be paid for, and not to see how good my ass can look in a pair of slim fit trousers.

Not putting across the wrong message here. I don't mean I can be a smart kid, by sitting in front of the tv, hogging on wafers. What I mean is, tor what my friend inspired me to mean is, being fat is not the end of the world. Clothes are only an outer image, of whom we potray to be. Behind closed doors, we are what we ACTUALLY are.

Somehow, I don't hate myself anymore for wolfing down that slice of cheesecake!

Life through a lens

She flinched when I crept up near her. Those eyes, they spoke. They seemed haunted, disturbed but they spoke and I listened. I couldnt make the pain go away, but I could capture the trauma, and cherish it, as something beautiful.

Photography is not only a career option. It is music fpr the eyes. The everyday things we see, which cant be explained, which touch us, which move us, which stir such emotions that they cant be explained on paper, are explained with the sound of the shutter. It is captured.

I will add though that I am no perfectionist when it comes to photography. I have seen others who excel at the field, leaving everyone around them awestruck. But you see, each one of us who believe in the field, are at the same level. We are one. We perceive everything from a different angle.

From a tyre swing, to a dried leaf on the cemented floor, from a chuckle to the sight of dawn, from dried petals, to hands held, everything through the lens, is worth cherishing. A photo holds the power of emotions. What seems worth ignoring, through a camera, comes to life, as something so aesthetic, so lively, we are surprised how it could possibly be ignored.

I am short of words, because the feeling in itself is hard to describe. I am an amateur now, but I dream to be some one big in the field.

Till then, let the pictures talk for you. And respond when they do.

Ordeal? Not so much.

The first thing which struck me on arriving at the Chhatrapati Shivaji Airport, despite the fact that I have somehow managed to lose my ID, was the fact that the very next day I report to work, as an intern in one of the most famous law firms in India. Being a thinker, by birth , I started to wonder what it would be like working under one of the most speculated (only according to my aunt) firms. I dreaded my decision of flying to Bombay for it, the very minute I said a hesitant yes to my aunt.

After spending about three hours getting acquainted with my 4 year old cousin and the dog, I walked out for a while thinking about how things would be. I had no intentions of waking up 8 in the morning pulling myself out of bed, and then putting a big *willing to work* image in front of much more experienced much more knowledgeable people. I could picture them looking at me with skepticism in their eyes, laughing amongst themselves at my absolute ignorance and then making me their lunch gossip session.

Next morning I was all prim and proper, with a sweaty forehead and a pounding heart waiting to be err..introduced to my fellow interns and my seniors here at the law firm. Since I had the mental image in my head that I would be getting a cold shoulder from possibly everyone I made eye contact with, I withdrew and kept to myself, occasionally taking jibes at the clown of the trainee group. When the other interns made me know that they wouldnt bite, I opened up a little more to them. One in particular, she being the only one to actually come up and talk to me.
The rest, stayed glued to their monitors, crushing away the keys on the keyboard, laughing at something petty or getting updates about basketball. Somehow there was no connection. Not that I made any clear attempt to make any connections.

However, gradually over the week, the tension in the air settled. The oh so speculated disciplinary life in the law firm, seemed hyped to the core, which ill admit made me grit my teeth a bit. Work, though more of a second priority here (strictly for interns), was interesting and worth the digging deep. Okay, I might be a little dramatic here, but the atmosphere helped give me a more clear picture whether the career path I chose was right or wrong. There is a whole basis on which I say what I say. But thats for later.

Work. Friends. Walks. All felt like a part of me, something which would take me a while to get out of.

Now three weeks down the line, I have made friends I would remember for this lifetime, and I have memories worth cherishing. Whether its talking about how it wouldnt hurt if the office had a more good looking crowd. Irrelevant, I agree.
However, everything comes to an end at some point of time, and so does this joy ride.
Now I have a more clear point of view. I know I have taken the right decision, and not out of mere helplessness.
And I know, what Ive learnt here, I shall always remember. Whether its the discipline (not really) or the knowledge, it shall always help me realise the significance of what I have stepped into. In a good way

As for considering it to be an ordeal .......
Well, lets just say it should have never been considered as one in the first place.