Structurally, life has changed so much. Its not the same anymore, and I still miss the old form and rhythm. And as much as my mental capacity can grasp that change is part of life, its been hard to accept change when it hasn't felt like a good one. However, thats only in its structural form.
Qualitatively, especially as a person from within, life seems to have not changed much for me. I'm still that meek person with the facade of a bold exterior. Sure there has been changes but its as though these changes have lead to my own doom. I've become less interactive, more indoorsy, and practically, cant do without my own space. However, having got more than enough of it...its started making me feel a li'l eerie about myself. Besides the personality shift, some bits of me have amplified. I always believed that spontaniety is the flavor of life. Well, i've taken it as far as being impulsive about a lot of things. And even though this scared me before, i've learned to become numb to it. Coz no one cares anymore, and so i've stopped as well. At the end of it, i've lost my power to reason. I just do what i do and although i reflect back, there are hardly any connections to find.

I'm living each moment as it comes and planning things ahead as well. I'm just surviving each day, sturggling to find meaning into it. I'm reassuring myself that this is a phase, maybe a long one. But, somehow, at the end of the tunnel, I dont know what reality will the light show me. I'm numb. but uncomfortably so...restlessly numb. There's enough stimulation in terms of work and commitments and maybe even socially (or so I'll tell myself) but there's this huge gap somewhere, like my heart is really just hollow.

Ask me a reason to live, and i'll, again, put up the optimistic, "i'm ok!" facade and give you this list i constructed. But i'm just living, simply because a) death at this point is too futile a cause b) living in the hope for a better tomorrow that i realistically dont expect. My mother always told me in many words that i'm basically, chronically unhappy. Nowhere and no one makes me happy and really, no one and no where can make me happy, atleast not for long. That, happiness lies from within still eludes me. And its not something one easily imbibes. Its kind of a gift, so to speak. My mother definitely possesses it and genetically has passed it on to my brother, who can bum his whole life through and not wince a bit. Dad, i guess with the circumstances he was raised and remains to be stuck in till today, forever has those wrinkles on his forehead. And though its not his character trait, it became mine.    
I've just been counteracting these thoughts and feeling by engaging in work but they always seep out...eventually and inevitably. So i guess to write on it is to give it its due recognition and then move on coz the more i ponder or wonder, the more insane i become.

The script may not seem extraordinary. However, I drew some major parallels to my own script where everyday, meaningfully, feels the same; wherein the conscience isn't lost but vulnerable to change of any kind.  Keeping reality in mind, Frank did not conclude with a wave of a wand with Pratt's disability. Instead Pratt continued a discriminately slow but sure progress on the same track. Because things can only look up after falling so deep. 

- snippet from my review of, The Look Out (2007).

I'm not lonely. I'm alone. And you'll feel that. Anyone would if you so much wanted to catch a movie or just yourself from the mayhem/monotony but found not one person to do it with. If you can do it alone, then you've been where I am much before and have mastered it enough to not let it seem anything abnormal.

I dont know when will life resume normally again. I dont know if I'll be able to tell the difference. Coz, isn't normal also what you get used to? I hope not in my case but I'm scared to hope, even. But as I quipped in the review that it doesnt and it wont go good (or normal) in one day and that its only as it progresses.

I do hope (less hesitatingly) that it be a progress to a better normal and not a psssive coercion to the present normal. Because I could never accept that. And acceptance is happiness.

Today is gonna be the day
That they're gonna throw it back to you
By now you should've somehow
Realized what you gotta do
I don't believe that anybody
Feels the way I do about you now

Backbeat the word was on the street
That the fire in your heart is out
I'm sure you've heard it all before
But you never really had a doubt
I don't believe that anybody feels
The way I do about you now

And all the roads we have to walk along are winding
And all the lights that lead us there are blinding
There are many things that I would
Like to say to you
I don't know how

Because maybe
You're gonna be the one who saves me ?
And after all
You're my wonderwall

I shouldnt, however, count on this. It makes me pine for you, even more.

me: you know what my problem is. i'm always free falling or free floating. thats why i never reach a point.
Sarah: But if you hit the ground, you're stuck there forever.

me: when it rains, it really pours.
Aditi: yeah but rain also nourishes.

me: I love him and we're great together.
Life: just when you think you're settled, i'll take a 360 degree turn.

In all my pubescent years up till now in my young adulthood, I've never quite understood the concept of dating and relationships. Even now, as I have some (or maybe a lot more than just some) experience in the field, I cant make any head or tail of it with a certain degree of certainty.

I remember my first "social" reaction to this was that of disapproval. To me, only fast girls indulged in such games and boys of my age were so awfully juvenile to imagine a deeper or a serious connection with them. And when I became more accepting of it (ofcourse with peer "sanction"), the superficiality of it repelled me. The elements of a relationship simply were flowers, chocolates, social isolation, first kisses and unwavering attention.

No this isn't the part yet when I begin illustrating my personal experience. Till this time, I had only personal accounts of friends and cousins to rely on. And in all honesty, I thought it was a huge headache (and damn it, was I right at 16?). Sure I didn't blind myself from the flossy part of it. Ass kissing (the meaning of which was limited to doting in my imagination back then), someone to beep you all day, someone to take you around (now this I really envied, I have to admit) and someone to buy you lunch (a vicious advantage!).

             But as I grew up, those personal accounts and witnesses matured and I then finally figured out the supreme factor operating in all relationships; THE EGO. Ego pampering and ego battles was all that it centered around. By now I was definitely getting somewhere.  Candies, kisses and pictures were all just physical manifestations of all the determining egoistic indulges of the human mind , torn between its personal wishes and the societal grants.  By this time, I was old enough and expected to have 2-3 ex's myself and I didn't. Naturally, I was questioned. Looking for the perfect guy aka Mr. Right? Guy maybe? Heck, I started questioning myself. Was I too pricey? Was I that unattractive? Or was I…no I couldn't be. The conclusive title I labeled myself was as the kinda girl that guys don't like as a girlfriend. As self deprecating as it sounds, it made me feel good in a strange sort of way. In time and with a little more exposure and knowledge, I did realize that I wasn't, after all, interested in women. In fact, I much hated them in general relative to my disdain for the weeners. And not in a sudden flash of enlightenment but a steady gradual gradation of myths and realities, I knew…I had to fall in love. And that did bring equilibrium to my disturbed thought settlements. However, I don't recall being in love when I entered into my first (and only till date) relationship. I just felt good about the somebody and trusted my gut feeling. Infact, on a very mental level, I never did think of love in all its grandeur having any connection to this relationship. And I don't believe till date, love happened as an inevitable consequence of our relationship. Love really isn't that predictable. I mean, if you cognitively assess love, it would be associated with all those feel good moments and moments of satisfactory resolutions. But that wasn't it.  There was turmoil, there were hearts broken, principles redefined. I think the period when I saw it for what it was when I couldn't wait to see him and felt the greatest being with him. Now the two did not or do not happen every time, so when it started to become a pattern, it was more for real.

                            However, I cant agree more when anyone says that love is sick. Why? because it is about giving a greater part of yourself and not receiving the same share. Everyone wants to be loved but not everyone can love another.

Digressing back to relationships, it is indeed everything I've always thought it to be. Scandolous, plastic toys, drunk dials, pampering (what ever sort), coaxing and socially reveling in it. But all the same or perhaps not all, it is a lot about giving. And this may not be parallel to receiving as well. You may not receive as much yet it is important to know the significant other has given as much as in his/her capacity. Because relationships (at least the realistic and utopian kinds) are a lot more above business deals and a little above the paradigm of social exchange.

I'm beginning to lose faith or almost left with none as far as our fate is concerned. My mind is boggled up between so many possibilities. A temporary, however prolonged phase of despair? Could my pathological delusions be acting up again with a fresh new target toy? This is what I find when looking within. But if I were to point fingers at you, I would say; you're not into me? Obsessed with your work?

Here or there, Darling, I don't see the reason why we should be together. In a pragmatic age that we live in, sentiments without reason carry no weight. Why am I then still here? Is it you, our relationship and my psychic belief in it or simply because I want the security of a man?

 

Phone rings.

 

"Hello"!

"Hey, you at home?"

 

Smiling, "yeah. I was just thinking about you" the smile turns sheepish however.

 

"Oh yeah. I hope they're dirty. Anyway I just wanted to check if you paid the bills?"

 

"Oh yeah. Of course. I was just stepping out to…"

 

"Great! Later baby"

 

"Yeah. Bye. I Lo…" Beep beep.

 

In the middle of something I suppose.

 

DISCLAIMER: The fiction pasted above is partially inspired by the Jennifer Love Hewitt starrer, If Only and the emotional imagination of the writer. Any resemblance to real life is intended and well possible.

I feel quite privileged to inhabit a world that is fast changing in all living respects. I agree, though, it is hard to keep up sometimes. Many even left behind in the rat race. But this high spirited age has paved the path for major modifications. It has motioned an upbringing of ideas that have knocked out the primitive and the pertinently worthless. So can I safely say now that a phenomenon like gender differences and biases is a fact of yesteryears?

 

The validity of this questionable assumption heavily rests on value laden judgments more than objective facts. The choice ultimately is to walk in hand with either one or fuse them into a cocktail of dualistic reality.

 

Christening my opinions collectively as the forward force, I appeal to live in the 'here and now'. Revolution has long begun, even though concrete results may still be pending. And the present scenario only boasts of the long standing struggles of history.

 

The fine line dividing men and women that existed in the occupational scene is faintly visible now. From women filling our gas tanks to men in thongs with dollars flapping out of it, both sexes have the liberty of choice.

 

The waves of Feminism are roaring louder with its gradual assimilation in everyday thinking. The understanding of Freudian psychoanalysis is incomplete without the knowledge of his ardent admirer and pupil, Karen Horney's deviating principles.

We have witnessed women's liberation movements exposing bitter home truths that formerly cried out for a public address. Now a homemaker knows that the housewife living next door could be the one out of every five who suffers daily abuse at the hands of her beloved.

I see this as a period of enlightenment. The skeletons are finally out of the closet. Attribute this to the spread of democracy or globalization of markets and popular trends, but the outcome has been largely positive.

It doesn't, obviously, change the clear and present danger.

I know there is every possibility (if not more) of being a victim to a sexual crime. But my woes will now be heard. More than that, it will be processed; be it through a judicial system or via an attempt at social reformation. And this impact will slowly but surely initiate the real and permanent changes; the kind that have been long awaited. Now my potential rapist would think twice in the lines of a potential capital punishment or public exposure, courtesy the media.

 

But don't judge or dispose me as being delusional in optimism. I am not oblivious to the flip side.

I very well know that being a single mother is still much tougher and less marveled than being a single dad.

A woman no longer a virgin is no longer marriage material. Hence gynaecologists are making bundles through "re-stitching" her hymen!!

Too many women have internalized archaic adherence so well that they turn against their own kind. Women, in fact, are far more rigid in compliance with the said social sanctions than men, the actual beneficiaries. This is why female foeticide still makes it in the front pages. That is why mothers feel the greater responsibility in the nurturance of the offspring.

"A feminist is most likely to be a lesbian. And lesbians are born out of an abusive childhood past", this is what a ten year old would gather from a movie like Girlfriend.

 

And when I make these sweeping statements, I don't make the implication that men are responsible. Not solely, at least. The fairer sex, as they say, is the other hand that claps together to applaud the misgivings.

 

My recluse in this mayhem stays with the idea of accepting that gender stereotypes will continue to exist. Only we must know better, i.e., to look beyond. So while most receptionists are women, they're as capable to drive auto rickshaws; just as we accept men evenly as bus attendants or bartenders.  

 

Women, in their turn, should aim for an optimal reality. It is only foolish to picture a world where men will turn a blind eye to a woman baring her cleavage. That is only an elusive dream, much like the kingdom of heaven.

But what can be realistically achieved is to diminish the excuse of, "boys will be boys". They ought to grow up, anyway.

 

Eve was created from a part of Adam. But she's not in debt of him. She is, indeed, his better half. And in all fairness, God would be a hermaphrodite.

 

The name kind of eludes you when it first hits your ear drums. Especially to a rumbling tummy, it is preconceived as a coffee shop with limited service in terms of amount. But once in a while, you're proven so happily wronged.

With reference to the branch in Defense colony market, the tiny place upstairs, right above SUBWAY, is a well known haven for student appetites. The ambience, at the very moment you enter, is predictably young and chirpy and the deco too has been accordingly set. Bongs at each table (but only strictly as a showpiece), coffee mug frames on the wall for the American diner effect (thankfully not overdone, though) and tickling quotes from beneath the glass table culminates very amusingly. The food shares the highlight of the experience with its darling prices. For one, a satisfactory amount of delectably delicious chicken lasagna is no more than a mere 120 (minus the tax bucks). Their momos and sandwiches are other reasons to drop in for. The variety and affordability of thirst quenchers, viz. cold coffees, ice teas and mocktails, add more stars to its rating. Loyal to its name, it has a modest variety of sweeteners of mousses and tarts that readily sink in leaving an ass kicking taste behind.

In essence, the place is a beautiful breed of a metro eating outlet with prices of a local joint. You can sample your first dates or impulsively do your little catching up here. Owing to the slightly congested space, however, it may be advisably avoidable at rush hour.   

 - Makepeace Sitlhou, who was at the place about 4 months ago.

 

The way my life is going these days, although it hasnt reached the pits, its definitely been one of the most trying times. And after a while, you tend to expect disappointments after disappointments even if conditions seem favourable. However, i was delightfully wronged yesterday. well i didnt have any solid, negative predictions but certainly wasnt expecting much from the day which by itself is a negative prediction too even if it sports the pretense of neutrality.
So after the exhausting round of admissions, I got to know we're on for Persepolis. Now i was really immersed into the book. I actually preferred it over silly gossip and laughter.
But there was this whole big round that had to be taken to just achieve this little aim. But in the bargain i did get a lot...a lot more than i expected. I got to meet Christina, to my cliche surprise was working for a children's shelter in Aizawl (Mizoram). It was nice catching up with her. The uncertainty of meeting my friends post grad is so high that i cherish each and every stolen moment with them. Same story with the gorilla. She and I laughed for no fucking reason or very fucking funny reasons yesterday.
I enjoyed the movie to the hilt, although I did get put off by at momentary breaks.
But most of all, I realized something yesterday that I'd continue to value. I think I was always close to it but I think it hit me in greater clarity yesterday. And this is not the bitter kind.
As Marjane Satrapi's grand mom said,
"the worst things in life are bitterness and vengeance..."

I wholly agree with her, especially with relevance to you, my boy!

And then there are the bad ones, like the one that happened this morning. That was just uncalled for and unnecessary. especially at 6 in the morning. But anyway, life's like that.

(Boring blog post, i know!)

So i'm turning 21 in a matter of few weeks now.
And there's a myriad of changes i'm coping with as of now, the details of which will only be repetitions.
I just trackback a blog entry of this date a year back. It quite feels like Deja vu.

for some odd and understandable reason, i'm really looking forward to the date when i turn 2 decades. i'm wondering what can i do. i wanna keep it simple yet not boring. i dont have even have a wide variety of choices with the lack of funds. i cant blame anyone. i'm aware of the shortcomings of my socio-economic status yet i dont brood over it. there are a few to blame of it. i mean it could have been far less difficult but i kind of see no point to it except that it just makes me feel a lot worse.

Surely, it doesnt get better for any of us. But, it did work out fine eventually.

i only wish the fair gorilla would come back soon. i need to vent so much. not on to her. she's just one of the few who can take it without making too much of it. beer and classic milds would do the job.

...and I do have a lot to vent out again.

hot fantasies?
yea that would make me feel a lot better. but who?
i'm so over that phase (or am i) to have wet dreams about some hotshot celebrities. someone a li'l realistic sets the pulse racing much faster. but i would like to keep off this subject for a while coz i might just reveal something that i wish to discard off my conscious memory, anyway.

i have my superstitions or atleast my curious interest when it comes to fortune cookies. but i guess they dont hurt anyone if followed at the right moment. the latest said,"i should call my mom". i didnt call. messaged her. she said she was ok though a bit tired. but more than that, i get the vibe that she must have felt better after i asked her.

...something holds me back this time.

A great deal of truth that i've learnt in the past year, by looking outward and inward, is that a woman is innately emotional and emotionally dependent on her counterparts. And this characteristic is so hardly rubbed onto each one of us that leaves little room for resilience. I have always tried to deny this fact but I'm slowly accepting it as it exists so prominently, in and around me. Does this mean I'm giving into conventions that every teenager is against at the start. I shudder to think so and treat it as a premature conclusion.
But I'm not one to accept defeat that easily. No, I'm not being stubborn. I can see the truth for what it is but unlike many other "adults", I will keep an open mind and not sit on them for the rest of my delusional life.

So in essence, nothing really has changed. I, for one, certainly havent.

No wonder I chose to wear a tee that sports, "same shit different day".

Delhi could suffer a water crisis but my system can never run out of enough to  accumulate for one little drop.
I texted someone few days back, "meri toh tanki khali ho gayi!" ( my tank is empty now). I underestimated myself again.
As long as I can remember, my mom has advised me against using tears to win my battles. She looked upon it as a sign of weakness, like almost everyone. But she never understood that I never ever believed they would. And it was such an involuntary reaction. Sure i remember this one time in 7th grade when my gang was having a cat fight with another and for some odd reason, i burst into tears.

Tuesdays with Morrie is one of the easiest reads that has dearly impressed upon me all its goodness. Yes, professor Morrie i didnt hold back my tears. I am not an emotional coward. Being a humanistic, I couldnt agree more with him on feeling emotions as they are without any moral or social restrictions. Although his book sold millions, i can guarantee not even thousands would truly abide by it.
Oh look again, the pessimist!

Anyway, i've learned to cry in solitude and to scoff them off while with others.