To all those who can be-dazzle

"He said that I be-dazzled him. He could not think straight in my presence"

"How can someone be enamored by you?" - He sneered

She recoiled at his usual disgust for anyone who appreciates her

"Its cos he sees me, the way world can not..the way you could never"

"There is nothing much to see or discover. I was never overwhelmed by you"..oh damn his nonchalant tone, which he usually acquires when he feels most threatened!

"I overwhelm those who I wish to."
Will a cockroach ever admire intricacies of a human brain? - She bemused!


They say I am proud, too proud
Does my pride offend them?
They want to kill my pride, in order for them to be alive?

They say I am either silent or loud, too silent or too loud
"Too" for whom? "Too" by whose standards?

All this, when I never even asked them for an opinion, in the first place

"What is grand is necessarily obscure to weak men. That which can be made explicit to the idiot is not worth my care.” – William blake

Anchors

Happiness is buoyant,
Lifts me up to no-where..jilts me and drops me to the ground

Anger is my anchor...keeps me rooted

My own notion of myself, jeopardizes me
So I take refuge in, what others think of me

I wish I could spend days in a state of delirium
Delirious with love, passion and matters of heart

But here I am, with code staring at me, mind clogged with work
While my heart moves out of the window, to fend for itself

Will a cup of steaming coffee bring me back to myself..for a little while?



This world has lost it glory, lets start a brand new story, Now My Love!

लंगड़ा भूत(One legged ghost)

On a sultry summer day, while the fan made noise as it creaked to provide some comfort and sound of vehicles wheezed past the house in a daze, he was lying in his half sleeved under shirt and telling the same story again

But with added spices, each time

"Then the ghost was caught and split wide open. I put some chilli powder, turmeric, garam masala... in his stomach".
All the Indian spices would go inside then, one by one.
Each time there was increment or change in the ingredients which went inside.

My small brother sat and listened intently while me and my elder sister romped around him on bed...
And even at the age of 6, my child-mind could sense that this is a fake story, created by him and I knew that he continued with the story, without any plot, just to humour us.
And back then, my heart swelled with love for him..not knowing that these were the seeds of a bond which is meant to exist for a lifetime
I still remember his smell from that summer, a father's smell, which I never found in any other man

What makes it so difficult now? To see him in the same light as I saw him as a kid?

My father was never the preacher, teacher kind. I miss that sometimes, whenever I have to choose anything in life, I always know that its just me who has to find that direction for myself.
Papa has always left everything to his kids..
He does not believe in notions of right, wrong..or maybe he is so lost in his own world that he simply doesn't bother.

His knowledge of everything in life is awe-inspiring.
If its palmistry, our house would be inundated with books by "Cheiro"
If its chess, then Anand Vishwanathan, Karpov and Kasparov fill our mini-library
If its science, then stephan king, Issac Asimov
If its philosophy then Krishnamurty and the likes
And for plain fiction its Hermen hesse, Dyotsovesky, Milan Kundera..you name it we have it in our house

People read cos sometimes they want to be abreast with general knowledge, or sometimes to be part of the elite group which talks of intellectual stuff, or for their own use
If I had an ounce of my father's knowledge, I would have moulded it in my favor

But his knowledge is just a thirst, nothing to do with anything I mentioned above. This makes him someone I admire without restraints , despite everything else I dont and cant

He loves kids.

He was always the one to go to, if I wanted to get pampered
Ma dint have much patience with our small misgivings.
If I cut my finger a wee bit, Ma would just ask me to wash with dettol and put a band-aid. But I would go to him cos he showed all the concern in the world and make a huge thing out of any of my inconsequential ailments

If I wanted to buy a dress, I knew my mother would give me stories of how something is out of our budget, so all I had to do was ask papa
He would take me to the shop and without looking at the price tag, would choose the costliest dress for me, budget or no budget
Did he know that he was so much loved then?

When did I stop doing that? Going to him for anything?
Sometimes I feel both of us are punishing each other for our own follies..

Or maybe He has a love for children, which does not reach the realm of elders.

There is this small girl, 8-9 years old, our maid's daughter whom he treats like his own kid
I see her putting her arms around him as I used to, or demanding things with a right as I used to
and I feel a pang in my heart

Maybe I stopped making him so wanted and a father-figure, somewhere down the line, which this small girl still makes him feel
And thats the foundation of a bond between them, which I seem to have lost

Down the line, I must have made me feel alienated from myself

On this father's day, if I have to describe my father it would be these things:

1. A passion for books, never saw in anyone
2. Playing online chess for 6 hours in a day
3. His hiding his glass of drink in most weird places, lest the brigade of women at home jumps on him for having a drink on consecutive days
4. His reading out "Brother Karamazov" to Ma, while I lay beside him, not understanding anything of the book, but just my love and admiration for him multiplying in leaps and bounds

There can be many more such bullet points, but that summer day of my childhood and his brewing up story of लंगड़ा भूत, is etched in my memory and surpasses any and everything else about him

My usual conversations with my father is so weird, that it gives me material to write and laugh about. But all that is post our conversation, not during it at all.

Here is a snippet:

Papa calls - "What are you doing?"
I - "Watching some TV, and you?
Papa - "Oh you are also watching tennis, am watching french open"
I - "Ok. No am watching something else"
Papa - He hardly pays attention to what I say "This Djokovic is such a maniac. His playing is so erratic"

Here I must admit that this is the first time I hear this person's name. My knowledge of tennis is still about Boris Becker, Pete Sampras, Nadal, Federer..and a few others of that league

I - "Who is he?"
Papa - "Come on, he is number 3 seeded"
I - "Oh..I am not aware"
Papa - "Anyone who is interested in tennis would know his name"
I - "But when did I say I am interested?"
Papa - "You have no interest in life!!" - Now his tone is beginning to get belligerent
I - "Come on, tennis is not the only thing to be interested in" - My tone is sounding irritated
Papa - "Then tell me what is your interest in life?" Now his tone is of a school teacher castigating a student
I - "------------"
Papa - "You know na, I have a TV tuner in my PC and thats where I watch all my matches, cos the TV is forever occupied by your mother with her daily soaps?" - Grudging undertone

This piece of information has been shared with me (and all my siblings) nth time and my only reaction can be a sigh!

I - "------------" -
Papa - "Your mother is watching something called X-factor" - sarcastic undertone
I - "So am I"
As usual he pays no attention to what I said

Papa - "Can you believe it, this Djokovic guy is only 24 and is giving hard time to federer who is 29?"
I - "------------" "Here I am trying hard to concentrate on X-Factor results

Papa - "Ohhhhh...what an ACE!!" - He can really shout
I - "Papa, you always call up and talk to yourself. Whats the point? Let me watch what I am watching and you drown yourself in tennis"
"Silly girl!" *hangs up*

Oh , these fathers! Who said men cant be nags?

Learnings from men

I have learnt lots of things in life, mostly from men I have met
Here are my learnings:

1. Never attach much value to the gentle touch, smell and conversations..they are with you for a lark

2,If they suddenly touch you at the small of your back, dont feel all protected and loved, its a technique they have mastered and learnt that it works on women

2. Dont swoon if they sing something beautiful to you, out of the blue...its not your song to claim..it might be sung to someone else too..its just their whim that they decide to dedicate it to you,at some point in their life

3. If they say the sweetest things to you, or text you something which makes you smile amidst all adversaries, DONT get enchanted and swoon over it.
They are just rehearsing their flirting and woman-wooing skills on you
You might be their Guinea pig!!

4.They just see a fantasy in you, an idea, something to project their hidden insecurities on. Its not you..never you!

I can only hope to un-learn most of it some day....

I have always been a a sucker for larger than life things
Every moment of my life I spend just to have a moment of something breath-taking

Something to make me go breathless..admired..cherished
Something like the picture below

I have always wished for a day of such grandeur in my life.
When someone like Obama(or Richard Gere, or any man who has the gall to hold me like that in his arms..center stage), leads me on



And the 2 of us waltz away..while the world is just an on-looker..applauding us!

The attention seekers

Are we all not, but just a bunch of attention seekers?
Isn't that the overpowering feeling amongst all of us, all through life?

To be the most important person to someone, to be admired for any and everything we do, to be the go-to person for someone when s/he seeks advice..and so on?

We ignore people who give us attention, cos that's a feat already accomplished and does not hold much thrill
And we run after someone, the moment s/he stops giving us that importance, which they used to earlier

Well, my 1.5 year old nephew is someone who affirms my belief that this is the nature we are born with.
Its something in-built in us, and till our last breath, we will always be that. Some in very big measures and some in small. Some learn with time, and get indifferent..and some never learn


If you see this kid and try to get his attention, he will not even look at you. His attention is constantly on laptop, TV remote, phone, books...there is no way will he sit near you and listen to you. He has to be constantly entertained by something or the other.

There is not a dull moment in a kid's life.

But the moment I start speaking to my sister, or on phone..basically don't try and run behind him, THEN you should watch his reaction.

He would bring his face so close to me that I cant see anything else, or start laughing and hitting me so that I can't talk to anyone.
He would make those most endearing faces and acts so that I have no other go but to look at him

Yes, that's what we all are, attention seekers!