De ghuma ke!

We won!!

The much awaited..nerve wracking world cup's match is over

But after every India's win , I feel a tinge of pity and sadness for the defeated team.

Specially the ones who reached quarter finals

So, I felt a little bad for Aussies and today for Pak.
Afridi's face was looking so bloodless and lifeless in the end..sad!

But now Srilanka has to be conquered..its payback time for them
For our defeat in 1996 world cup semi finals!

And to think that all this excitement for something like sports, which I hardly vouch for
Maybe its just a sudden wave of being one with people around you..to belong!
Sometimes a mad rush of things, sweeps all of us in a trance!

The deciding moment..

How does a heart break?
Like a shooting star or a sheet of glass
Whats the sound of a lonely heart
And whats the colour of madness?
When does it happen
The beginning of an end?

There was this guy I had chanced upon, a guitar player.
I had seen him in one of my sister's programmes where he was giving background guitar strums to her songs
He struck me as an extremely good looking guy, with a sweet smile and a talent to reckon

My sister introduced me to him and we sisters exchanged typical womanly chit-chat on his sweet looks, talent and yes..that he had a girl friend whom he constantly talked with on the phone..even during their rehearsals

One added attraction about the guys was..he was from IIT Bombay..hmmm intelligent too..great going!

Well, so the story ended there, and I dint have much to think about him.

Just that I had this secret imagination of me singing on stage(this has got to be in imagination cos it can never happen in reality, I suppose), I had this image of him playing guitar in the background.
No, there was no romantic inclination involved there but just that this picture of me singing and him playing guitar in the background seemed perfect in my mind

Some time back I got to know he committed suicide. I was dumbstruck!
I asked for reasons, but my sister dint know much, just that he wanted to make it big in music line, in bollywood. He had quit his job I guess to pursue this and stay in Mumbai..but things dint materialise.

It left me brooding on a lot of things.
Firstly, what is it that snaps in mind of people, people like him...well bred, good job, good qualifications, and to top it, good looks too..to get into a mode which makes people end their lives?

I suppose it must be that feeling of the whole world closing into them, no escape ..no escape...going breathless and doing the only thing possible at that moment..which is to end it all
Maybe in those moments of insanity(or the most sane moment?) they would have remembered all their small failures, all the harsh words spoken to them, they must be reminded of those times when every time they saw their own image going down in their own eyes..
That moment...deciding moment of everything that they ever were..

I wondered : Is it just the more brilliant ones who commit suicide? And lesser mortals like us go on with life..compromsing..asuming we get what we deserve and never striving to reach where we cant..and so never feeling let down by anything?
Is it cos we, who survive, are the weaker ones..who lack the strength to get what they want..but think of those who end their lives as weaker ones?

Cos this streak of madness was there in many genius men and women
Guru Dutt, a fabulous film maker, got into an extra marital affair and ended his life
Virginia Woolf - the famous poet who went into some depression, put on her overcoat, filled its pockets with stones, and walked into a river near her home and drowned

And then he, who was wiped off from the face of the earth, as if he never existed..

Identity Crisis

I am changing my identity, from my real name to what I actually am "WomanInLove".

Well, this change is only for the blog world since this whole idea of anyone who knows me personally (except for family and very close people), googling me out and coming to my blog creeps me out.

And it has happened in the past. Though I dont mean any offence to those who did that, out of sheer curiosity.

Now the ones who already found it, are most welcome here.

Just giving myself luxury of anonymity, for future ones.

Wherever I go, any new place or my own, I tend to find a space for myself

That place where I see myself spending most of my time, till the time I am there

The place where I would sit for most time of the day, reading something, having my tea or just staring into nothingness..ensconced in myself..and feeling content

It might not be the prettiest place in the house, it might not even a view to boast of

It could be just a pillar in the corner of an aangan, or a specific space in a balcony, or a particular place on a particular bed

This is that space which becomes one with me, for the few days I am there

I try a lot of places, but I eventually tend to gravitate towards the one which is meant for me
Its like I try fitting a lot of pieces, into the puzzle of my heart, and then the place which finally fits in, is THE one

So, wherever I go, I do find My Corner ..always!

Anna's love

"My love keeps growing more passionate and egoistic, while his is waning and waning, and that's why we're drifting apart." She went on musing. "And there's no help for it. He is everything for me, and I want him more and more to give himself up to me entirely. And he wants more and more to get away from me. We walked to meet each other up to the time of our love, and then we have been irresistibly drifting in different directions. And there's no altering that. He tells me I'm insanely jealous, and I have told myself that I am insanely jealous; but it's not true. I'm not jealous, but I'm unsatisfied. But..." she opened her lips, and shifted her place in the carriage in the excitement, aroused by the thought that suddenly struck her. "If I could be anything but a mistress, passionately caring for nothing but his caresses; but I can't and I don't care to be anything else. And by that desire I rouse aversion in him, and he rouses fury in me, and it cannot be different. Don't I know that he wouldn't deceive me, that he has no schemes about Princess Sorokina, that he's not in love with Kitty, that he won't desert me! I know all that, but it makes it no better for me. If without loving me, from duty he'll be good and kind to me, without what I want, that's a thousand times worse than unkindness! That's—hell! And that's just how it is. For a long while now he hasn't loved me. And where love ends, hate begins.

"And is there any new feeling I can awaken between him and me? Is there possible, if not happiness, some sort of ease from misery? No, no!" she answered now without the slightest hesitation. "Impossible! We are drawn apart by life, and I make his unhappiness, and he mine, and there's no altering him or me. Every attempt has been made, the screw has come unscrewed. Aren't we all flung into the world only to hate each other, and so to torture ourselves and each other? " she thought.
"I thought, too, that I loved him, and used to be touched by my own tenderness. But I have lived without him, I gave him up for another love, and did not regret the exchange till that love was satisfied." And with loathing she thought of what she meant by that love. And the clearness with which she saw life now, her own and all men's, was a pleasure to her.
            Anna Karenina ~ Leo Tolstoy

Is it the story of all women in love? Their love going stronger and men's love waning..or is it the story of all two hearts who were involved with each other anytime? One's love growing in leaps and bounds and another's receding at the same rate(probably cos of the very reasons).
Reading this I felt as if I have said the exact same things to someone , of intensities being inversely proportional

Makes me think why and how this happens?

Maybe cos the base reason for falling in love with someone is inherently flawed.

I never fall for the niceties of a person, I dont fall for a guy who does charity and helps a blind person cross street. I might admire and respect that person, but love has reasons known only to the heart.
The moment you reason, you undermine the very essence of love, of its purity

I will fall in love with the way you smile, the groove in your voice which stirs the unknown in me, your ability to crack me up with the most mundane things, that look on your face when you look at me,your vulnerability, your intelligence, the innocence which makes you impulsive and arrogant but not a stereo-type, your passion for life and for me. Yes, your passion for me, will be my driving force till the end of my life...

So if your eyes remain the same, your voice can still upheaval chords in my soul, the way you look at me never tires me..how can I ever stop loving you?

Every relationship has an expiry date, even the closest ones.

By expiry I dont mean a complete shut down, no talking terms et al.

I mean those small things which you later realise mattered so much more than the big things in life.

Those bantering, the bouts of laughter shared, the opening of your heart and feeling good, of looking forward to meeting that person

Sometime we carry this image of what has been and keep looking for that, not really accepting the change, not realising the differences
And we get exasperated in our quest, but not quite disillusioned, and keep trying.

I guess its the disillusionment, which sets things right at times.

One has to realise when any relationship or person becomes detrimental for your own self, when this feeling of worthlessness comes over you in another's presence, when all memories of good times have been effaced and you are just hanging on to the residuals.

One has to recognize and accept whenever the crux of any relationship depreciates and hits expiry. And trying to squeeze out happiness from it, will never work.

Where do I begin...

A few days back I attended a training conducted by a person whose training I had attended 7 years back. It was in a different company though, but the same person.

And it brought back some memories, not of him as such but the fact that you and I attended that training together.

We were so fresh, just getting to know each other.

It was a 7 day long training, and am not sure if we attended it for the training content or for each other.
You would constantly be around.
While I wrote down notes, you would sometimes snatch my pen, much to my exasperation.
If I sat in a different row, you would keep pulling my duppatta and ask me to come to your row and sit with you, and I would royally ignore you each time.
But you were so persistent in your effort to stick to me.
Even when I used to be with other girl-friends of mine, you would make excuses to be part of that group, trying to flirt with them, but I just knew you are humoring them just to be around me.

The day we partied and I had a major hang over, I had decided to bunk training and nurse my terrible hang over. But you called and said "I will get bored if you are not around, please come". And in spite of nausea and splitting headache, I ran to catch the rest of the training. Totally hung over and hardly registering anything, I just sat there.

The feeling of being so much wanted by someone is like a drug, it makes you do unimaginable things.

And you kept smiling and asked "Did you come just cos I asked you", and I hated you then!

Your constant calling from office, if I were late on any day, and asking me "Where are you yaar?", used to be my highlight of the day.
Your tone had an urgency, brimming on being rude and demanding and irritated, but till day that has been my most romantic moment, surpassing any form of endearment which has ever been bestowed by me, by any man!

So after that training, while we were strolling on MG road, totally engrossed in each other, we crossed this trainer and his wife and you said in an amused tone "Now that this guy has seen us together, it must have quenched his curiosity of the last 7days".
I sort of knew what you meant, yet asked "What curiosity?"
You said "Of this equation between us"

I remember so clearly that were standing right in front of "Bombay store" on MG, which has a cafe coffee day on the ground floor, in the open.

I stifled a smile and asked "So what is the equation between us?" and looked up at you.
You had the most whackiest, naughtiest, adorable look on your face.
You avoided my gaze and pointed at the cafe and said "Lets discuss it over a cup of coffee".
I knew that discussion would never happen. We were happy in this bubble of "uncertainty" around us and never dared to burst it. We loved each other's company much more to endanger it by questioning what we had.

The physical intimacy was never an important factor between us. Maybe thats why we still had it strong, till we parted. Maybe thats why you always respected me..and I always had an upper hand with you.

I sometimes wonder what kept us going forever.
We met in office, we went for coffee after that..yet we had a never ending desire to be with each other. It never got stale.
Maybe this huge difference between our personalities, kept the spark alive.
I wanted to figure out how one can be so non serious about life, and you wanted to unravel my strict exterior..we were both on a journey, into each other..and into our own selves
In spite of these huge differences in our natures, maybe we were alike on a different level..maybe we both knew all this is a charade to hide our true selves..maybe both of us knew how deep inside we bonded like no one else.

Yet when things took an ugly turn and I totally shut you off..you would try relentlessly to win me back...and tell me "R, 50 years from now (your standard measure of time), if you decided to be with me, we will recall all this and laugh..and if you are not with me, I will still be part of your happy memory"

I would defy this with all my vigour, cut your heart with my acid tongue, and tell you to get lost.

But here I am, just 7 years from then, and not a drop of bitterness. In spite of you being younger, maybe you had an ounce more of maturity, in a minimalistic fraction of matters of heart.

And why do I today write all this?
Cos as I said, this blog will be my witness.
It will be a collage of my life I have lived, and try to hold the precious moments of my life. And truly, you are one bright picture in it.

Sometimes I can see a moment being already over, when I am still right there in that moment, living it

Its a strange feeling, its not deja vu, but a feeling of not being where I am

Even while I am sitting and talking to someone, I can see myself going out of that room and having coffee at Mocha.

Its like the moment never happened, its inconsequence makes it a delirious experience.

A surreal moment..

And sometimes I am already missing a moment, before its over..I am already nostalgic about things which are happening then and there

Those are the times I tend to believe the difference between body and soul.

My first

So I had another of my "firsts" yesterday. Watched the India-Ireland match in stadium.
I had decided not to go, though my sister had come down from Delhi and she had passes for all of us.
Even my cousin and a friend had flown down from Hyderabad, just to watch the match.

But after Ireland's batting was over, I suddenly had this urge to be there. I thought to myself, Bangalore is offering me yet another first, and I should grab it.
So I rushed to at least watch the Indian side of batting.

And as I sat there watching, I had a few revelations: About myself and the match:
- That I liked being part of the Mexican waves which the crowd was making
- That the larger than life image of cricketers playing it out on the ground could sometimes look so small and achievable. I thought I could have ran better between the wickets :)
- That I sometimes forgot it was a real match happening right in front of my eyes, but many a times mistook it for large TV screen and some of the shots looked like replay.
- That at times when the batsman is ready to play and bowler is about to bowl, there could be one fielder near boundary, who is rolling on the ground, stretching his muscles, or getting some first aid done. Its not all "Action packed drama" on the field, all the time
- That crowd goes berserk as much for Tendulkar as for Yusuf Pathan.
- That people are camera crazy.

So my first ever "stadium-watching-match" was a world cup, in my city.

All this high..without a drop of alcohol!

A reason to write

I was telling someone today that I should stop writing on this blog for a while, cos at times I just write for nothing.
I write cos I feel suffocated by people around me, and this is my refuge.Which is not good.

But while on my way to work I crossed a car, there was a young guy driving it.
He was alone, must be having some music running in his car, cos he was tapping his fingers on the wheel and I could sense he was humming along.
I wanted to bend down a little to see his face, cos this picture amused me. The idea of someone having fun, without anyone's company, specially enjoying music, appeals to me.

Then in the auto next to mine there was a bong girl, yapping away on phone in Bengali. I understand Bengali a little so I could grasp that she was talking to a friend about fashion and how she wants to buy this and that. Bengali is such a sweet language, all round and pretty. Makes the conversation even more interesting.
I wanted to crane my neck to see her face, cos he voice sounded so energetic and full of life.

There was another young woman stuck in the traffic jam, like all of us.
She had her hands-free on and was talking to someone. I guess she was talking to her lover (leman in french, just learnt this word today).
        The look on her face, of knowing someone new and basking in fresh love. The blush and a soft smile. I could imagine I must have had the same look on my face, in some era.
The sweet vulnerable madness!

So I decided, I wont abandon this blog. If a traffic jam can offer me such delightful sights, there is so much in life to look forward to and write about.