You're alright, I s'pose.

Tamed, she will be not;  

always agile, 

her flitting spirits 

finds no home ashore a calm cove.  

WE, the millennial women are drunk on confidence, success and a whole lot of freedom. We are self-sufficient and a better-half is not on our mandate for happiness, spare our feelings. There is so much of beauty and knowledge to be consumed that wasting even a second chasing pavements feels grossly erroneous . Time is precious and so is our youth -  our experiences are our treasure troves. 

And I for one, have often pondered, if our hedonistic pleasure in our Independence is our Achilles' heels?  

It is the sea with its waves-

adrift and turbulent, 

that beckons her: 

howling her name, 

whispering its sweetness,

until she surrenders to the madness...   

There seems to be a general consensus within my fellow-kind of progressive, single, Quarter-aged-and-above ladies that when it comes to Love, we are running low on fuel! We'd much rather sleep our sorrows through, and talk to some (Organic) Food while at it. We are too happy counting the calories, spending weekends making elaborate savings plans slash budgets for travels, content with shopping ONLY what we need, trying to convince ourselves that Salads and Yoga are actually the way to go and regret all those years of Drunchies. Splurging is blasphemy (but we still indulge anyway and after, feel guilty about it) and beer is not only distasteful but is so much better for the hair! Vodka, I am so not having another hangover with you, my old friend. 

Sangria brunches and spas suddenly seem more appetizing than pub-hopping and over-hauled dancing the night away. 

We have pets, home decorations, language classes and trash TV to make-up for quality time. At social gatherings you steal glances of supposedly happy couples and muse at what their daily lives must be. You are in possession of this perverse pretend-power that allows you this unique perspective where every act of decoy becomes transparent, and every syllable uttered will be transcribed for hidden flaws. 

"You wanted my attention? You have it. Now make it worth my time!" 

Mercifully, we can hold both our drink and the tongue well - avoiding the thundering recollection of awkward social events, especially those that concern the well-wishers who have no business minding their own.

So, in this , all and merry land- what seems to be the trouble? It is this nagging feeling at the back of your head that you are strangely normal and very much so without a beau. 

I would even go far enough to say that it's not so much the Presence but the gaping Absence of it- that is not the most comforting. 

If I could be found on any island- it would be called I-G-N-O-R-A-N-C-E, and you'd find it very blissful.  A demonstration of my fondness for this beloved state is my frequent attempts at nonchalantly dismissing 'love' references and replacing it with more conducive exponents of 'logos'.  

Log #1- Date: 12th February (through 13th February) 

On the said particular day, as I set about to busy myself with chores and all-important tasks- a desperate attempt to set order to the chaos in my physical environment; admittedly, I am short-fused in the mind. A rumble-tumble of sorts. I am unwittingly holding on to an image of multi-colored balloons with the hope of avoiding a step in the general direction of that unsullied ground. 

Let's take the happy thoughts out for a walk! 

Just as my mind begins to saunter in the wayward direction, at which point exactly, I scold myself and begin to chalk-up a list of things to-do this weekend- stuff to buy, arrangements to make, re-visit my new year resolutions and my progress report on it, sulk about my over-weight, the loss of hair, or their graying, remember to plan my next travel and then consequently get hit by the speeding depletion of digits in my bank account. 

Surprisingly, my brain can process all of the above at an exponential rate and I am, yet again,  brought to a screeching hault and ungracefully  dumped at the sign board reading 'Alert! Cupid's gone missing!' 

Log #2- Date: 14th February

Yes, thank-you, world! For the umpteenth time, I was witness to your time-honoured tradition of Valentine's Day. It played out on my non-existent big flat-screen, only mine does not have a remote-control to switch to other channels.  Oh and 'twas HD, 5-D and all the pizzazz- so I don't get to miss out on anything but the participation! 

How people ever expressed love before 14th of Feb, actually became 14th of Feb, is an astounding feat ! I imagine history books would have records. 

It's called Taj Mahal! Go build one, David Beckham ! And something that is non-corrosive, please!

In the meanwhile, Cupid and I are taking a break. We went out drinking once, but then taxes happened and everything became expensive! And since, in some twisted indignation I hold, I like to pay my own bills- these rendezvous got reduced to service taxes and VATs. In simple words, I could not afford it. 

If that does not make the cut, in the world of the intertubes you are never too far way from decadence of hearts - splashed all across your screen. Oh, we are such exhibitionists- this YOLO generation of ours! and sadly that does not help my cause. 

Log #3- Date: 15th February and since 

This part, I call retrospection. 

Growing up,  as a teen, attraction and chemistry constituted the provenance of  'Love'. This implied, that there was time to pursue, to be wooed, to explore. Romancing somehow took precedence over 'going strong'.  Enter the 20's- that part of your life where you are very certain about being uncertain; you are young, gutsy and arguably- desired. Predictably so, the thrill of the chase keeps you hooked. 'Steady' is really 'too soon' and 'a good, nice man' is boring. No, you want to feel ticklish with passion: is he spontaneous? Does he have a sense of humour? Is he a megalomaniac? Check.Check and Check! 

Then comes the mid-20's. Here you are fast approaching a stage where you think you should commit, but, 'What If' , there are other possibilities. You tag along anyway until one midnight, the mother-of-all-epiphany hits you with that staunch smell of LIT and all of a sudden you find yourself surrounded by douchebags and Tomfoolery. 

As you have grown older and more comfortable in your skin, you have also run out of time, options and patience. You know what you want and more importantly you know what you don't want. Now, that you have a plan, your follies accepted, your insecurities are on a healthy diet- you lack the prospect of the suitable boy. 

It's all speed-dating from here. 

An affliction we are all too familiar with - Finding the Right Man at the wrong time- where you keep thinking back to a time when you had it or Him, but you wouldn't settle. 

Nothing has transpired between then and NOW- I still don't exactly regret the choices I have made; could I have been more foresighted about them? Yes. But that's the fun about life-  all of our experiences  and each more different than  the other. 

In the interim I have come to learn that love is not a formula ; it's not about things I like, things I don't like. It is layered, inexplicable and more mirrors than windows. Meaning, what we seek out of Love, or what Love means to each one of us is not the same- it invariably reflects what we need the most, and everything about our life until then. If it is anything; Love is not Simple. It can be needy, or it can be life-affirming, it can be caring, it can be honest, it can be challenging, it can be a reassurance, it can be many things and it can still be nothing. 

Through the years - Speaking strictly as a sapiosexual, I get  drawn to conversations like moths to light. I have come to learn that for me Love would be a friend, who I can share silence with and rant rubbish when I am upset- and HE would still get what I am saying. Bonus would be - A respect for individuality and a deep-rooted understanding of choices; not just mine, but everyone's. In that aspect, I guess my wait may just have to be a little longer than the rest, or alternatively, I may never find what I am looking for. Who Knows? All I know is that I am happy to fill my life with etcetras in the meanwhile and make a colorful collage, if I must.  

Yes, with the Spectacularly Ordinary, my Inner Goddess may not be so happy. But she can still learn to Jive with her discontentment and bray discordant tunes to Ed Sheeran's Thinking Out Loud. Yes, Ed, Give Me Love! 
And see you soon(preferably with a flute glass holding Mimosa or Bellini)  ??

 #Meh

                             

Dear Michael

Note: I was asked to write a letter for a dear friend's baby, for him to read on his eighteenth birthday. At the time I was thrilled and thought how wonderful it would be. But when it actually came down to writing it, I was clueless and nothing seemed good enough. What could I possibly say to a boy eighteen years from now?! Phew! No pressure! 
In any case, I have penned some food for thought. And doubting very much if he will ever appreciate this, I have succumbed and I am putting a mail in the post. While the letter finds its way to his current home in Canada, awaiting its mysterious fate, I thought I'd share some part here (before, I bite my tongue)! 

Dear Michael,

As of today, you would be a solid 18 years of age (and  a decade younger than I am, as I write you this letter). 

It would be foolish to assume that I know much about life,  but as I commandeer over two decades of wisdom, I will attempt to share with you what I have learnt so far.  You would hopefully let me know how I have done? 

When I was 18, I was a starry-eyed kid with a big white hope. As far as I was concerned, there were so many possibilities.

I have come a long way since, but being where I am today, has its perks. And while being adult comes with its fair share of baggage,  yet Life never ceases to amaze me. All the world around us. That's where I still feel that estranged connection with my 18-years old self. 

Upon this thought, here's what I wish for you- that you are able to carry your past as you live your current and move toward the future, with joy and grace.  I assure you, it is a beautiful kaleidoscope of things. 

Don't ever lose that stubbornness- Rebel, explore, be curious. And no matter the nervousness, stay stubborn to learn  and to be yourself. 

Dream- If you haven't one already, find one. It's the most wonderful thing. It's crucial you have one - for it will steer your life . Years from now, when you are unhappy with your job and career, you will hear of your mates doing wonderful things and you will look back and ask yourself where did you go wrong. Essentially, it was just a matter of a dream they had, and you din't. And if one doesn't work, it's time to go find another one! 

Be Brave- It's a big bad world and it's not easy being yourself. But try. You will be clueless, your friends and peers will intimidate you, you will doubt yourself, but hold courage. Always.

Love honestly - Love, big or small, but love honestly. Don't pretend if you're not in love. And don't be scared if you are. As long as your heart knows it, and you are honest with your heart, people will understand. After that if people are disappointed or if they reject you- well it's their doing, and not yours. 

Empathise- Try to lift yourself above commiseration. Try to understand and enable. Respect your parents, respect women, know the lesser fortunate. When you are crying about not being able to buy a ticket to a concert you'd like to go to, remind yourself that there are children who do not know what music is. And in realising so, if you are also able to help them in any way, there is nothing more rewarding.

Don't hesitate- There will always be expectations. And you will be obliged to live up to them, but try to remember that eventually, everything finds a balance. And while it takes a lot of patience, which you will develop over time (hopefully) but every person has a perspective- and you may not necessarily get it or understand it. But just because, you don't, doesn't mean that they are wrong. You are just different. Don't hesitate to express your views, while accepting others' .

Don't regret - If there is something I have lived by, is that you should not regret. The ugly also has its charm- it makes us stronger and scars remind us of where we've been and where we'd like to go. Life is a sum total of all your experiences, and while each one comes with its share of pain and joy- it makes up your life and it makes of all of who you are. You will learn that things happened to you at a time, because you were meant to learn something out of it. 

Make memories- Little ones. Lot's of them! This big, bad, mad, crazy, wonderful, confusing, beautiful thing called life!, is just one shot you get and make it worth the while. Seize the day, my friend.

Skeptics may say, Life is never the literature you imagined, but your story is your own. Don't be afraid to imagine it as you go along. Make it a Ferris-wheel kind of ride. Roller coasters are so over-rated! 

Oh, and it would be well to advise that the best armor there is- is a sense of humour! 

Love always, you blessed child,

Auntie Aishwarya 

I Don't know about U, but this works for me!!

LETTERS TO BUBBA- Final Epistle

...In the battle between Love versus Ambition, either is doomed to erode and fade. One cannot thrive in the presence of the other; fate only favors the one that is more persistent. My father keeps telling me, "You can't have the cake as well as eat it" and I find that fitting in this case.

Some may say that it is the choices that we make, and in the end, it all works out. Perhaps. But whose side of the story are we telling? 

I for one, strongly believe, that we take refuge in anything and anyone, that is comforting. All our actions, likes, dislikes and fear is the consequence of this idea of comfort. Motivated by reciprocation, love persists. Failed by disappointments, love gives way to grey; from hereon, there are two paths- one of doubt, and one of greatness. For its only in misery, that a revolution is born. 

But, it's not wise to suggest that all of us were born of love, good or bad. Some of us are made of ambition - I think it is a variation of love-  a love for self-awareness (but for convenience of reference, we shall call it ambition). It's also the conqueror. And in all sense of honesty, it is also easier. Love, on the contrary, is truly for the resilient. 

Our mortal nemesis is not so much death...as much as it is the fear of the unknown. We are deeply vested in the anticipation of the future, tormented with the ceaseless possibilities ( or lack thereof) and the seeming rhetoric - how will our stories be told? 

Yes, if you ask me, I don't think we fear dying. We fear not being remembered. That, according to me, is truly ceasing to exist.

And as in all times of conflict, we are known to do, we will turn to believe in the representation of the Beyond, and for convenience I call it God. God, is my answer to all things inexplicable; a billion questions, which perhaps our race was never meant to ask. Yet we are here. Living. Evolving. And I need to know. 

Enter Science. Science has very reassuringly resolved the origin of species, yet, it is, like every other definite, a didactic.

Removed from all knowing-ness, simply put, we all want to be in memories, in books, in arts, in literature, in history- in mourning , in wonderment or in obscurity. 

I now, therefore, wonder, is ambition so different from love? Or do they harness a placebo effect for each other? 

I don't know which is truer; we choose the one we love, or love chooses us. But in defying to do so, or being refused the choice itself, ambition is comfort for now. 

For while Love eludes me, my person functions with ambition better. Open yourself to love, people say. I defer to add; open yourself to love 'of any kind'. 

Because, while the manifestation is different, the objective remains one and the same- to be forgotten Not . And as singularity is nature's favoured offspring, one will need to perish for the other to succeed. 

Forgive me Bubba, for it is the only kind of love I know. And that someday, I hope, you will understand and we will both, each,  find what we are looking for. 

" ...That you are here—that life exists, and identity; 

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

- Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

And until then,  the heart will burn... 

Remembered always,

A! 

LETTERS TO BUBBA - Epistle #4

Dear Bubba,

That ache is back. It sprung on me and caught me unaware.

I thought I was done; but in truth we never can escape the past can we? Somewhere there is a trail that leads right back to us.

'Loss' is such a tumultuous word; it excites so many different emotions at the same time- confusion, fear, anxiety, sadness, anger... yet, today, I feel nothing. The only knowledge I am familiar with is the awareness of  an absence. A constant, that is so empty that its silence is deafening. Imperceptible to the world, it is slowly eating away leaving nothing in its wake.

Except that in all its capitalization, realization has become very heavy, and it is tiring to carry it around. It aches.

I do not know what I would mourn. There seems to be nothing that has me to. But, there is, something still.

I lie awake in my listless dreams. I stare at the drawings of past, and what cannot be.

Everyday, I teach myself to live, remind myself of the pretty things around me; I regale myself with tales of love and hope, of a happiness that would be. I lie. For how long, can self-taught resilience last?

And time is behaving very sluggishly. I pray I near an end to something I don't quite see, or understand. I pray that the last chord of string remains.
...I need to move urgently, for I am afraid, that when I will catch up with myself, I may not like what I see.

It's okay to be weary of the ugliness that the ceaseless unknowing brings, you said.

But is it crazy to be afraid of yourself, Bubba?

I know now, I am.


-A! 

Chit-Chat

Butterflies and bees chat along their way,
Flowers left with little honey.
But who is the 'lone gardener,
Who walks along the trodden path?
Picking up what is little left
Of once a blooming garden.

People pass by, every now and then
Talking among themselves of that gardener;
Some pity, some curious , some just notice.

With love and care he nurtured the garden,
It's butterflies and bees, the bloom enjoyed,
Along with them were pruned ,
The silent graves which now beheld-
Happiness, sorrow, disappointment and success
All enfolded into one eternal sleep.

But strange enough, did anybody
With the gardener chat?
Ask him whether he slept alright?
" Mind joining for a cup of tea or something?"
"The summer is pretty this time of the year, ain't it?"

The winds blow and tickle your senses,
While the gardener sits alone
Talking to the epitaph under the Gulmohar's shade.

People pass by, every now and then
Talking among themselves of that 'lone gardener;
Some pity, some curious, some just notice.

She watched him from her window, for years.
Every twilight she saw the gardener alone,
Humming to himself, a yearning chord-
She wondered if she should stop awhile,
Lend a face to share a smile.
For a little chit-chat for the miles?

People pass by, every now and then
Talking among themselves of that 'lone gardener
Some pity, some curious, some just wonder......

Don't just stop listening yet.

This World is no place for Idealism. And how do I know this? Because, I read it on Buzzfeed! (If you are not already smiling, then the joke's lost on you! ) 

Also, because I think I am entitled to a little wisdom - given my life and the sum of my experiences, which  ironically  is very short-lived  (Yes, I convince myself from time to time that I am much younger than I think).  

However, science states that no Hypothesis can ever be discounted. Yes, we will go with science , and logic. 

Do you smile more often than you are smiled back at?  (I thought as much)

Are you often heard saying "I think I am taken for granted!" ? ( Why do you event try?)

How do you like your egg?  ( Okay that was completely irrelevant! ) 

Let me re-frame that question- does your partner prefer the style of cooking the egg to your taste or just assumes it's scrambled or sunny side-up ? ( what? You are vegan?!! Whatever! ) 

Do you offer to help out more than you receive a thank-you? 

Do you remember to wish people on their birhtdays and I mean all 7hundred of your FB friends? 

Now, how many of them remember to wish you back? ( Do the math) 

How many of your ex-collegues and acquaintances and yes, friends  (of some time ago) call you to ask for help  and if they have to return the favour they ping you back on whatsapp to say - "hey missed your call, whats up!"( feel like punching a wall? don't! it hurts!) I, for one, could swear a good pair of Louboutins for every penny I collected everytime somebody called me to ask me for help or CONTACTS. Hah! 

Have you been judged, for being the spoilt or the privileged kid because your grandparents/ parents dote on you ?  (Oh yes, because they assume you are being spoilt . And oh yes, because they were such Samaritans fending the big bad world all by themselves. They are all such Self-made men and women!)

Are you surrounded by hypocrites who talk about changing the world, criticise governemnts and society and often neglect that poor man/ woman/ home-help who needs that money more than they do? ( yes, they could spend it on ZARA or OLD MONK)

Have you been pushed  back in queues , because there is a girl/ lady/ woman or some plain -ass jerk who demands to be accomodated?

In your relationship does your partner keep telling you that you don't give back? ( the expectations never end, my friend) 

Oh and humour me, do you have a Boss or Landlord? 

If the responses to all of the above are an affirmative, then you are closer to - peace. Awareness, Buddha, told is the step closer to enlightenment. 

And while we still fight our battles of spirituality, individuality (write about all of the above:-P) and other shenanigans, I have learnt to Ignore. " If you really care for me, you will shut-up!" 

Up untill recently, I believed that one has to fight back- if one needs to survive. Unfortunately, that means you'd have to fight 6 billion versions of you. Futile. 

A simpler and more effective solution is to realise what you could do / should do rather than what should be done, or what should be. Focus on your path. Just yours. 

Thanks for listening....

In awe of a Labourer

Sways, Staggers, Limps and Falls,
It plays not, cries not, laughs not, but Works;
A laborer from dawn till dusk,
Its tawny colored body
Gleams in the light.
The little Man goes on and never complains!
My eyes enthralled, watch it in awe,
As it climbs and falls and never says "Can't!"
When God thought of earnestness, he thought of an ANT.