About Me

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I am not your mystery woman, I am not your muse..I am not your soulmate, just a passionate woman looking for her own peace of mind... Heart is a lonely hunter!!! "Within us there is someone who knows everything, wills everything, does everything better than we ourselves"~I guess this is Hermen Hesse

Sunday, May 13, 2012

She and Me

No, she is not my role model. There are so many things I would have wanted her to do differently
Be bolder, stand up for what she wanted and deserved, not be a push over..are some of the thing

I believe in breaking things rather than preserving thier ashes
If something does not work out, get rid of it..anything if not wanted in its totality is a clutter..and life should be free of clutter
But she keeps asking me to preserve, to hold on to things till they fall out of my hands without my mistake
And I either get irritated or laugh at her stale values

Yet, when I speak a harsh word with anyone, when I shout at auto-rickshaw guy, I have this nagging feeling of going an notch below in my image in her eyes
Cos I was always this soft girl, who could not fight the world(Now all I do si fight)

No, she was not a dancer. I dont know whose genes I inherited for the danseuse in me.
"हट बे निखाटू गंवारवा मैं तेरे संग ना जाउंगी " - My mother would teach us this dance in her clumsy, faltering, endearing way
Yet to me, till date, thats my sweetest memory of anything close to sweetness

No, she might not be so good in English, or have had as good an education as we had, or maybe we were a tad better student than her
Yet, my oldest  memory of education is about her asking me to write 100 times in a book, something I could not remember easily

My purest feelings, my overwhelming love and my maddening  anger, I feel only for her

Happy mother's day Ma!

माँ और माँ की जाई 



Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Committing the felony of Eating, praying, loving..

I bought this book "Eat,Pray,Love" (Elizabeth Gilbert), from a roadside hawker, few months back. Those xeroxed ones.
But after reading 229 pages of it, I realized it started repeating the previous pages and many of the pages in between were lost.

So I went back to that place and asked him to exchange it.
He said, he dint have any copy of that book with him anymore, and added
     "Why dont you read 'Committed", its from the same author".
As if the same author means the same book?!
I dint want to read "Committed", so I said I will wait for "Eat,Pray,Love",

I kept going to him, once every week, and this continued for a month
And each time, he tried handing me "Committed".
Finally I thought I will bargain for some other book with him.

But I desperately wanted to read that book so I started trying at other places.

I encompassed a whole of 4 kilometers around my area for that book, and interestingly none of them had it. And EACH one of them tried handing over "Committed" to me.(With the same story about how its from the same author)

This began amusing me, and then I deliberately started asking any hawker I saw, for this book Knowing fully well he wont have it. Just to see if he offers me "Committed" or not. And they all did!

After a while I started feeling as if this was some sign.
As if God was trying to tell me "You have done enough of eating, praying and loving,  now its time to go "Committed"!"

I finally exchanged my "Eat, Pray,Love" with "Committed", from the original shop.
But I wont be opening a page from that book, unless I find and finish my "Eat,Pray,Love"

I am adamant to finish all my eating, praying and loving...till its time for "Committed"..
And the time is never right...unless it feels absolutely right



I wonder if all the mystery in me, my joie de vivre, my humour, my wit will be enough to survive a witless, lackluster, self obsessed, insipid man. Sometimes I get a feeling, it just might.
I dont really need to find my equal.
If yes, then marriage is good, if no then its scary
Cos in the end, it will only be me..its all about me

Friday, May 4, 2012

You will not be lost

If ever you thought you lost any part of you
Come to me
I have all your parts intact, within me

If you feel you lost your mirth,
I will give back that you to you
Who smiled as he got up from bed and winked at me
And I knew, that the day dint belong to me anymore

If you have any doubts about your worth
I will be your reminder
Of how you wiped my fears

All the light, all the shine in you
Are etched in my recess, threaded in my pores
You just have to see me, and be reminded of your glory

If right now you feel like nothing
Remember me, and you will become all that a man like you is meant to be

If I exist, rest assured none of you will be lost ever
We will be in love again
With someone like each other

Saturday, April 28, 2012

A poetess like me

I follow a blog which puts up great work by various artists from various streams and its a delightful blog for me. There are rare songs, poems by writers I was not aware of. One such I came across recently was "Nikki Giovanni". This blog translates everything in hindi, which was beautiful. But I knew the English would be much more, and I searched and fell in love with her many poems which I read. She felt close to heart, a natural, a lover. There is a poem which resembles a line from my hindi poem which I had written ages ago


I am sharing lines from some of the poems I found stunning

 "Cotton Candy on a Rainy Day"
Don't look now
I'm fading away
Into the gray of my mornings
.........
I try I become more difficult to hold
I am not an easy woman to want
They have asked the psychiatrists . . . psychologists . . . politicians and social workers
What this decade will be known for
There is no doubt . . . it is loneliness

-------

"Choices"
if i can't do
what i want to do
then my job is to not
do what i don't want
to do
--
This specific poem written below is the one which made me feel I had written something very very similar way back

"The way I feel"(Ahh this is one of my labels on this blog)
i've  noticed I am happier
when i make love 
with you
and i have enough left to
smile at my doorman

 i've realized i'm fulfilled
like a big fat cow
who was just picked
for a carnation contentment
when u kiss your special place
right behind my knee

most time when you are around
i feel like a note
reberta flack is going to sing

And the lines which struck me with deja-vu are following


in my mind you are a clock
and i'm the secodn hand sweeping
around you sixty times an hour
twenty-four times a day

Sample these lines by me, in one of my hindi poems which I had written way back in 1998, in my diary and had posted it on my blog in 2008, here
http://memoriesofaworldelsewhere.blogspot.in/2008/06/some-love-poems.html

तुम जब चाहो मुझे देखोगे और मेरा दिल सिमट आएगा तुम्हारे पास
तुम्हारी आँखें मेरी धूरी हैं
चाहे जहाँ भी जाऊं मैं , केंद्र तुम ही रहोगे
(When you look at me, my heart will come back to you
Your eyes are my pivot
Wherever I am, you will be my center)



Ohh..sweet love, how you feel so strange when you are gone
Was I ever like this.?

4 more years went since I wrote this on the blog too??? Unbelievable. I feel I started this blog so recently

So we were at 2 different parts of the world, thinking alike..

There are other poems which I loved by her, but the last one I want to share here is this

"Communication"
if music is the most universal language
just think of me as one whole note

if science has the most perfect language
then think of me as MC(square)

what i mean is one day
i'm gonna grab your love
and you will be satisfied


Blissful read is each of her writing, and she has the most endearing face and smile




 
 


Monday, April 23, 2012

Cliche'

I try to run away from the cliched, and look for novelty..all the time..in smallest thing

A cliched joke, a cliched look, a cliched phrase..gets on to me like a parasite
The agony of living the already lived..a disgusting second hand experience

When one knows the effect of something one says, the effect is lost already
Innocence of not knowing your own charm, charms me like anything

Maybe thats why kids make my heart swell with love and happiness
They dont know what they are, unless they grow up

If you really mean something, never say it and make it a passé

In distress if someone tells you "Let it go"..you lose respect for that person, cos you know this person will never try and get into your shoes to know whats hurting and would just harp about the "Let go" mantra, oft repeated

"I am the girl who loves the rain and likes to get drenched in it" - When a girl tells me that, I lose interest in anything else that she has to say..cos I know there will be more of cliche coming my way

"I like to break rules, and live by my own" - When I guy says that, I want to ask him where did he learn this from?

I would rather be quiet than say the same thing said by many in the same situation..time and again

I say beautiful things when no-one is noticing, but the moment people start expecting...I go kaput

Give me a moment, a word, a sentiment never experienced before
When tears come cos of nostalgic happiness...sadness does not bring them

Everything beautiful in life is a way to nostalgia..
A song, a face, a fragrance ..
Making the heart heavy with beauty of everything that can be deemed beautiful in this world

And cliche can never be beautiful

I wish I could break my own cliche, 
Could I be that coquette, with those sultry eyes?
The one who woos men in the bar
I wish I knew my power beyond what I know

if love is a cliche too, then lets resort to lust

तेरी निगाहें पा गयी राहें , पर तू ये सोचे जाऊं न जाऊं न जाऊं
ये जिंदगी जो है नाचती तो, क्यों बेड़ियों में हैं तेरे पाँव ?
प्रीत की धुन पे नाच ले पागल, उड़ता अगर है उड़ने दे आँचल
काहे कोई अपने को ऐसे तरसाए ?  

(Your eyes have found the path you wanted to tread,
But you keep thinking if you should go along
This life, which dancing around you,
Then why are your feet in chains?
Dance on the tunes of love,silly
Let your veil blow away, if it has to
why should one keep oneself deprived?)

This heart is again looking for a wintry affair, this summer
When the coffee gets cold, cos the talks could not

Saturday, April 14, 2012

An article and my views

Recently read this interesting article by David Bentley Hart, on Ayn Rand's writings and I cant help but agree with few not-so-good things there, even though I have been her hard-core follower. She had always affected my mind many a times in things I said or felt.
Yet there was always a dormant desire in me. to defy her theories, at times, just in small bits

http://www.firstthings.com/article/2011/05/the-trouble-with-ayn-rand

But this article is such a venomous take on her, why so much angst for a woman who just spoke what she felt was right?

Some excerpts from this article:
"Ayn Rand and her idiotic “Objectivism” are enjoying a—well, I won’t call it a renaissance, so let’s say a recrudescence"

"Civilization is always a fragile accommodation at best, precariously poised between barbarism on one side and decadence on the other...Rand was definitely on the side of barbarism."

Barbarism, how?

Though I some what agree with this "I suspect that charity really is the only way to avoid wasting one’s life in a desert of sterile egoism".

And I so not agree with this line
 "And, simply said, I cannot find much common ground with someone who believed that the principal source of human woe over the last twenty centuries has been a tragic shortage of selfishness.".
Maybe selfishness is not the single source, but one of the strongest source. Cos the definition of being selfish, as per her, is not as generally defined by us. So we need to take that in the context and not a stand alone thing.

I just laughed my head off at this: "For what really puts both Atlas Shrugged and The Fountainhead in a class of their own is how sublimely awful they are. "

The mentality of the herd against someone who stands out is so much around, and fills me with disgust.

When I appreciate something brilliant in other, I am pacifying that part of me which could not be all that brilliant.
But if I negate, make it sound ordinary, then there is just one word for such people "jealous".
They are condemning themselves by denying others uniqueness

Just cos they could not be unique, they try to form a herd of people, who would profess to believe in that no-one is unique, all are the same
But silently, and cleverly, they would ry to establish their upper hand on the other, by forming incomprehensible sentences to intimidate the other. And finally telling that you are ordinary, but I am not, since I know I am ordinary....ha!

People look for redemption in others, for their own misery, they always want to hold someone responsible

As Ryan Said : They hate you for the greatness of your achievement. They hate you for your integrity. They hate you because they know they can neither corrupt nor ruin you” -  I also say that people hate you for your strength, people hate you cos you dont fall apart, people hate you cos you dont even regard them with a hate and intensity which they ask of you.
Some strands of recognition is all they need, from you

But the side note on this line,in that articel, is really funny (Bloody they—I never could stand those swine.)

:D

Not a bad article in all,it is the author's interpretation and personality which s/he reflects in hi/.her likings and disliking. So has he done it here. But nevertheless, I found it harmless & funny.

He reminded me of that novel again by writing such excerpts : For her, the world really was starkly divided between creators and parasites, and the vast majority of humanity belonged to the ranks of the latter. “I came here to say I do not recognize anyone’s right to one minute of my life,” Roark continues, “nor to any part of my energy, nor to any achievement of mine.”

I absolutely loved that part in "Fountainhead", And just for this, I can be in love with her!

 I had written a similar draft in my post which said(though the context here is different) :
"Well, another has only as much hold on you, as much as you give them at any point in time
Never more!
So if someone wishes to be obsessed with you, but if you wish to extricate yourself. You have all the right to. Everything gone in between you 2, before has no meaning. All that we have is today, and today I am allowed to despise someone, and stay away.
One cant hold a moment of past in their kitty to hunt someone down.
Unless of course I have killed someone, or tortured, then I cease to be human and no human rights are not applicable to me"

This paragraph in the article made sense to me in bits and pieces, but not really, cos Ryan emphasized on these attributes, but not denied that there can not be anything apart form this.(If she did then maybe in my mind I have obliterated it)
"Rand really imagined that there could ever be a man whose best achievements were simply and solely the products of his own unfettered and unaided will. She had no concept of grace, even of the ordinary kind: the grace of an existence we do not give ourselves, of natural powers with which we could never have endowed ourselves, and of all those other persons on whom even the strongest among us are dependent. She lacked any ennobling sense that what lies most deeply within us also comes from impossibly far beyond us, as an unmerited gift. She liked to talk about “virtue” a great deal—meaning primarily strength of will and the value that one creates out of one’s own native resources—but for her the only important question regarding the relation between the individual and society was who has a right to what. That is, admittedly, a question that must be asked at various times, but it is never the question that true virtue—true strength—asks of itself."

But Kudos to this para, I know some people who do exactly this, so I just clapped my hands in glee for saying what exactly I have in my mind:
"And, really, what can one say about Objectivism? It isn’t so much a philosophy as what someone who has never actually encountered philosophy imagines a philosophy might look like: good hard axiomatic absolutes, a bluff attitude of intellectual superiority, lots of simple atomic premises supposedly immune to doubt, immense and inflexible conclusions, and plenty of assertions about what is “rational” or “objective” or “real."

Beyond that I could not concentrate more, since too much of negative energy anywhere is not my cup of tea.Thats why I restrain from beign sarcastic, mean and vomit my hatred for anyone in paper.

“There are two ways through life,the way of nature and the way of grace. We have to choose which one to follow.” ~ The Tree Of Life
I choose grace, let others choose their real nature

So Mr.David, you do have substance and potential. Please use it constructively and not by attacking one Ms. Rand

Friday, April 6, 2012

My life, my opium

I trudged along, carrying those heavy grocery laden bags in my hand, my huge vanity bag on my shoulder and some other stuff.
I had vowed I would not take and auto, I needed to feel some pain.

Drudgery of the day added to all of it, and it started getting difficult with each step.

I am a girl of petite frame and soft skin, so soon I could see red marks on my palm, where the carry bag strips met them.

But I dint pity myself,
 At that moment I realized there was some sanity in religious fanatics flagellating themselves and crying "Haaye Hassan", the self-inflicted pain can be a source of derisive pleasure at times. I felt avenged of myself, of all my sins
I felt it was a way of punishing myself

Punishment for being with wrong people, at right times of my life
Punishment for  learning driving and having a license, yet not having enough guts to start driving
Punishment for absconding from my blog, for irrelevant people
Punishment for not being able to ignore things, and letting my anger get the better of me
Punishment for devouring life, treating it like a play-thing, submerging my life in my whims, meeting it headlong, trying to give it back in rage, as it gave me opportunities in love

But my red marks were threatening to become a bruise and I could not walk even for 30 seconds at stretch, with all that weight.
So I started taking short breaks, stopping and just looking around, and having other people give me weird looks
After a good ten minutes, there was a bus stop and I thought of sitting on the bench and just relaxing my palms

I was listlessly looking around, when I saw these 2 women, talking and laughing

They seemed so much one with happiness, on a high.
They were nudging, teasing, mocking...(I took their pic, but came too dark so I posted one from net)

I laugh cos like is happening to me

I looked at them closely, trying to decipher the source of their high

Were they young?
Youth is a high in itself, as if the world is yours and waits for you to laugh
But they seemed well in their 50s

Were they gorgeous?
Beauty, of the kind which makes the world go weak in knees, makes the owner of the beauty giddy at times
They feel the world belongs to them, and waits on them
But no, they were not the conventional traffic stoppers either

Were they high on their richness?
But that could not be, else they would not be waiting for a bus

And it pleasantly struck me, they were high on life
This life, as it was then, in that moment...
They were high on their everyday-ness, the same mornings and evenins

Past and future were in limbo
At least for those moments

And I instantly scribbled this in my notepad:

I have looked for highs on mountain and cliffs
But realized,  there is a high in every low
For every trough, there is a crest
Sinusoidal wave, this life is
My life, my opium

So I threw my head back, let my hair fall all around, picked up the bags and headed home, stopping at a medical shop to get some ointment for the bruise.
Hoping that tomorrow morning, all  my scars would be healed.
And they will be, nothing in life is permanent

Note - It was good to be away, but its better to be back. 
Packed with armor of my arrogance, and power to ignore the ignorables