Monday, May 17, 2010
ते माझं स्त्रीत्वं
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
न सुचलेल्या कवितेचं भूत
Monday, March 22, 2010
A world lost....found within
Yesterday I saw Radha [my 5 year old daughter] talking to herself. Not that it was the first time; she talks to herself very often. Almost all the time when she is not talking to someone. I have never been worried about this. I ask her whom she is talking to. She has a very simple answer each time. She plainly tells me the name of the person she is talking to. She explains the situation, she describes the interaction, subject matter, emotional state..everything that is going on in her tiny head. She has no hesitation, discomfort, embarrassment about having an imaginary give and take with the non existent humans/ghosts/fairies/animals. She is happy and content in living all those moments which she can’t live in her realities.
I never worry…I envy her. Last night I traced back deep inside my own mind. I realized I do exactly what she does. I have a world of my own. A world deep inside me. Sometimes I feel I live more in those unexplored zones than living where I am supposed to live. It’s a world of my dreams, my desires, my fears, my passions, my nightmares, my insecurities. My world of ‘how it should have been’ ..my world of ‘how I want it to be’
I live all that I haven’t lived..I do all that I dare not do..I say all that is ‘not to be said’
I live the love I haven’t got a chance to live. I conquer the fears I have always been obsessed with. I live like one I have always wanted to be. It’s my life unshared…it’s my secret undisclosed. It’s my treasure..I am yet to find.
It’s so sealed deep within that sometimes I can find its traces. Sometimes a ‘fair’ amount of alcohol knocks the locked doors. I get alarmed and I shut myself up further. My friends [who have witnessed such extremely rare occasions] tell me that I become an introvert when I am high. That might be a rare sign of alcohol influence, but I do feel closed down. I get lost in the world lost deep within.
I envy my daughter. She has the courage to live her secret world. She has no fears of that world getting exposed. She caresses her own desires, dreams, and insecurities fearlessly. She has the courage to tell me that she is giving herself a chance to live what she can’t live in the world that I have brought her into. She has no regrets, no complains howsoever. She has the strength to embrace her realities away from this reality. I wish I had this power.
Maybe I have it in my world lost deep within…..
Friday, March 19, 2010
Chicken run
I have been wondering lately..what is it that makes one write a blog? Is it an inner compulsion to express oneself? Is it habit? Is it the feeling of being read/appreciated/acknowledged by those friends in the web world? Or is it re-assuring oneself that one can write? I guess it is all of it. I have not been writing for almost three years now. [Not been writing a blog I mean] I don’t know why? Did I not feel all that I have stated above? Well…I did feel that. Was I too lazy? [well..that I am..always was..] Was I not worried of being forgotten/overlooked/ignored? [Somehow that never worried me]
Bottom line is, I don’t know why I did not write for three years and I don’t know why I am writing now. And I don’t want to know.
Sometimes I feel a little chicken dancing in my head. Imagine you have organized your papers properly on your study table. Travel blogs in one pile, personal writings in another, recipes in another pile, official paper work in one. And a chick starts dancing all over. It is all mixed up, it’s all messed up. You get furious but you can’t be angry on that little thing, you love the way it dances and throws your papers around. You love to see its tiny legs tearing the papers away. You love to see the happiness in its little body.
I feel that in my mind. I get dis-oriented. I get dis-organized. It’s a mess. And I am the little chick messing myself up. I am the one who has organized it all and I am the one dancing on it.
I love this feeling. It scares the hell out of me. I get set to figure out what it is all about. What it is meant to be. I try to find a mirror to look at myself all over again. I struggle to find out what I am looking for. Every time I feel ‘this is it’! Now I know all. But the little chicken re-visits. Thank God for sending him.
Is that why I am blogging?? Dunno…Ask the chicken!!
Saturday, June 9, 2007
Vibha can't write
But then she is right. I haven’t written in ages. I was in Delhi for two months writing a play. I wrote about 6 drafts! I was over and out with it. [ I am damn good at giving excuses eh?] I thought I can’t write no more!
I feel like….I want to..some thing happens…in the heart..and the mind. [ if at all these are two different organs at two different locations] But I just can’t get myself to write. Sometimes there is so much I want to say..it is so much that I feel I am choked. I feel there just aren’t enough words that can say all of it. [Guys……this IS NOT a sign of a poet, or a genius writer…this is just a stupid lazy woman trying to update her blog..and proving her puneri friend wrong]
At times I feel I have gotten into this habit of using the tool of language to write something impressive. Just an attempt to prove that I still write. Just a way of telling myself and others how I am different than the rest. But I sometimes feel do I really have something to say? Do I have to write? And then I don’t.
But then I do..becuase I need to…because probably that is ALL I can do.
I guess I should sign off..I am incoherent…but folks…I did write….
Can Vibha write…..even if she can, she doesn’t!! And I hate her for that!!!!!
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
Why??
You know why? Unless you know ‘why’, u can’t make things the way u would want them to be. But then ‘why’ do I think they will ever be the way I want them to be? Me the almighty? Nah…..why do I question? Why do I rebel? Why do I complain? Why do I insist??
You know ‘why’? Because I LIVE..[now come on!! Don’t ask me WHY I live??
Tuesday, January 2, 2007
Meera..a myth??
BINGO!!I was pleased with myself. My phone rang. A very dear friend at the other end. We broke into a discussion [I like this word…..’I fought with him’ sounds so childish eh??? Nah…’I was ‘discussing’ a few serious issues’. Sounds apt] At one point he said ‘You know what your problem is? You just expect too much. Get over expectations. You will be more at peace’ I managed to save my ego by coming up a flashy argument and I hung up. But I sat there wondering if what he said did make sense.
Yes…it did,,,I indeed expect too much. From myself, from my work, from my maid, from my mother, from my husband, from everyone who walks in and out of my life, from my car, from my i-pod, from my cell-phone, from my laptop, from EVERY DAMN thing in and around me. And how should I NOT do it? I am taught to live that way, I am taught by life to live it that way. And THAT’S what I am teaching my daughter. ‘Give something if you want something. Let me bathe you if you want your Noddy back’. This barter system has crept in her life at that young an age.
How do I now get this out of me? When I give, how will I not want back? When I invest, why and how do I not look for returns?
Do we really don’t expect? Are we all not sustaining on this game of give and take. We let go for the one we love, true. But don’t we do it hoping that he will let go for us sometime? We surrender, yes we do, but is it not with a want that he will surrender someday? We pray with all heart and soul, but don’t we do it to get the returns we feel the almighty might give us?
And if we don’t expect, will we still hope? If we don’t hope, will we still dream? If we don’t dream, will we still live? We will survive, can we live? Expectations come with pain. It’s because very rarely they are met with. But can we really feel the happiness that may come without feeling any pain ever?
As I post this blog, there sure are few comments I expect. Few people who I know will read it and if they don’t either read or comment, I will feel bad. And I await this pain and this disappointment. Because that will give me the strength to feel the happiness if at all I get the comments.
Meera loved Krishna in spite of knowing that her love will never be returned or reciprocated. And she created works which possess us centuries later. Had she not felt the pain? Had she not suffered? Did she really not EXPECT? And if that’s what I should get convinced with, I am compelled to say, ‘Meera IS a myth....