Ever felt claustrophobic while in a rickshaw??!!
I’ve wronged someone. A long time ago. My intention wasn’t to cause mush distress, but I did. Of course, like all stories of this sort go, I didn’t know it then. I guess I knew I was causing some harm, I just didn’t know that it would be the long lasting kind.
I made a boy cry. I say this without any swank. I was a child such a child. I didn’t know then that I was capable of hurting someone. I also wasn’t aware of Karma!
Looking back, I know that things wouldn’t have been any different. I mean I wouldn’t say that if I could go back and undo what I had done I would, cos that would be a lie. I only think I could have – should have handled it differently. Maybe…
I thought Karma was done with me. Turns out, she isn’t. She’s still hounding me and liking it. I know it’s not really up to me to decide how much is too much. But a girl’s gotta catch a break at some point. I guess what I’m trying to do here is see if I can change the course of my life.
So rather than sending out chain letters in the hope of changing my luck, I’m pleading my case to the better side of Karma, and writing this as my apology to Bharat Shah. I am sorry.
And dear Karma, Please leave me be.
Truly,
Reena
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Ask and you shall receive
I grew up in a convent school, two actually but that’s beside the point. Now the thing about being constantly around nuns is that you get to hear strange religious quotes from them. ‘Singing is praying twice’; ‘Elvis is the devil’; ‘God is watching you’… well these are just a few of them. Over time you learn to filter them out. For some reason though, one line has always stayed with me… ‘God works in mysterious ways’
At first I used to wonder bout this whole mystery. I mean what’s with all the mystery? Why won’t he just make a straight forward move and be done with it already? One of the nuns once tried to explain to us how God works. Apparently he doesn’t answer all our prayers right to the T! Well we all already knew that now, didn’t we? I mean how many of us asked for chocolate houses, winning the lottery, yummilicious arm candy and ended up with zilch? Now according to the nun, God answers our prayers but not how we expect them to be. He gives us what we want but we only realize it later.
It’s Ganesh Visarjhan festival this week. Last year during Ganesh Visarjhan I was more or less a mess. Actually I was more of a mess than anything else. So I did what any desperate person would do in my situation. I plead my case to each and every God I could think of. Being an Indian there were far too many God’s. This was a good thing for me. I turned to every idol and begged and begged hoping that some of my prayers would make its way above to the powers that be. The prayers were more or less the same; Make me happy again. I thought for me to be happy I would have to get back what I lost. So it was a little disconcerting when I realized that I was getting happier but I still hadn’t got back what I had lost. I went through all the feelings that a girl has when she gets her first period! Confusion. Fear. Guilt. Et Cetra, Et cetra. It was a weird phase but thankfully I had friends to take care of me… last year as well as when I had my first period. It’s only now that I realize that for me to get happy I had to let go of the ‘then’ and make room for ‘now.’
Strange isn’t it how things work out. The Catholic in me wants to say ‘Strange how God works things out.’
At first I used to wonder bout this whole mystery. I mean what’s with all the mystery? Why won’t he just make a straight forward move and be done with it already? One of the nuns once tried to explain to us how God works. Apparently he doesn’t answer all our prayers right to the T! Well we all already knew that now, didn’t we? I mean how many of us asked for chocolate houses, winning the lottery, yummilicious arm candy and ended up with zilch? Now according to the nun, God answers our prayers but not how we expect them to be. He gives us what we want but we only realize it later.
It’s Ganesh Visarjhan festival this week. Last year during Ganesh Visarjhan I was more or less a mess. Actually I was more of a mess than anything else. So I did what any desperate person would do in my situation. I plead my case to each and every God I could think of. Being an Indian there were far too many God’s. This was a good thing for me. I turned to every idol and begged and begged hoping that some of my prayers would make its way above to the powers that be. The prayers were more or less the same; Make me happy again. I thought for me to be happy I would have to get back what I lost. So it was a little disconcerting when I realized that I was getting happier but I still hadn’t got back what I had lost. I went through all the feelings that a girl has when she gets her first period! Confusion. Fear. Guilt. Et Cetra, Et cetra. It was a weird phase but thankfully I had friends to take care of me… last year as well as when I had my first period. It’s only now that I realize that for me to get happy I had to let go of the ‘then’ and make room for ‘now.’
Strange isn’t it how things work out. The Catholic in me wants to say ‘Strange how God works things out.’
Monday, May 5, 2008
A Ballad Of Loss
One Art
by Elizabeth Bishop
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
I'm 25. Not old enough to call myself 'wise' but I have found plenty of wisdom in loss. I've learnt the hard fact of life that nothing lasts forever. You lose your milk teeth, your boobs sag, school is over just when you begin to enjoy it, you lose your cell phone... and so on...!
I lost my childhood when I was in boarding school, more specifically during my summer holidays before 8th grade. It was scary, It was unfair and it taught me never to trust. Atleast never to trust other people's decisions made for me; made for my 'good.' But I dont think i consider this as my greatest loss. Yeah it was a terrible terrible thing but I shut it in a tiny box marked 'terrible terrible things' and locked it at the back of my mind. If the Dementors came calling this memory wouldn't be the one that would fill my heart with despair.
Hmmm I guess the memory that would come to me during a Dementor attack would be of losing my dog. Actually everything that led to the loss of my dog. The moment i saw my dog being torn apart... A friend of mine told me about the time he saw the girl he was in love with and how everything went quite in that moment, he could hear nothing. He could only see her, like in the movies. I experienced such a thing too, only in a very negative situation.
I got up at 7 in the morning and i could hear loud noises from outside. I went out and what i saw still sends shivers down my spine. Two dogs were attacking my Buzo... they had a hold on him, one by his neck and the other by his back. Buzo's legs were off the ground and those dogs were tugging and pulling at him as if my Buzo were a rag doll. The world stopped for me at that point. I couldnt feel anything... I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move... I'd lost all my senses but sight. I could only see Buzo being ripped apart. My body felt like lead, i could barely move, could do nothing. I dont know how long it was, but then I could hear screams... loud blood-curdling screams, it took me a few seconds to realise that it was me screaming. I remember running towards him, someone... I think my neighbour chased away the other dogs and i carried Buzo, he was broken and quiet and trembling. I brought him home, I was still screaming and my Mum asked me to calm down. The events that followed were more or less a blur. I just sat down next to him on the floor and held his paw. We had to put him to sleep. I held onto him until he was cold... This is the greatest loss of my life.
I lost people and pens, friends and frisbees, boyfriends and bangles... Its hard to say which of these i miss the most, what do i need back the most. But that's all pointless... Nothing's coming back. But i do know this - Loss is temporary. You only feel it if you dwell on it. There is more to come... much, much more to come, Loss and Gain. Its a funny dance. Funny if you see the humor in it. Tragic if u like drama - You pick! Either ways... Remember what you've lost, miss it, get smarter, move on... and hope for the worst lols.
I have cats now. 3 of them. They have nine lives. I'm hopeful they'll stay around for long ~fingers crossed~
P.S.
* My boobs aren't sagging. They still happy and perky :)
* I HATE gravity.
* Dementors are are soulless creatures considered to be among the foulest beasts on Earth.
They are soul-sucking fiends who guard the wizard prison, Azkaban. And oh yeah.. they appear in Harry Potter and belong to J.K. Rowling :)
* The poem used in the start of the blog is partly the inspiration for this post.
* I'm still waiting for the moment when time stands still for me in a happy positive way :)
by Elizabeth Bishop
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
I'm 25. Not old enough to call myself 'wise' but I have found plenty of wisdom in loss. I've learnt the hard fact of life that nothing lasts forever. You lose your milk teeth, your boobs sag, school is over just when you begin to enjoy it, you lose your cell phone... and so on...!
I lost my childhood when I was in boarding school, more specifically during my summer holidays before 8th grade. It was scary, It was unfair and it taught me never to trust. Atleast never to trust other people's decisions made for me; made for my 'good.' But I dont think i consider this as my greatest loss. Yeah it was a terrible terrible thing but I shut it in a tiny box marked 'terrible terrible things' and locked it at the back of my mind. If the Dementors came calling this memory wouldn't be the one that would fill my heart with despair.
Hmmm I guess the memory that would come to me during a Dementor attack would be of losing my dog. Actually everything that led to the loss of my dog. The moment i saw my dog being torn apart... A friend of mine told me about the time he saw the girl he was in love with and how everything went quite in that moment, he could hear nothing. He could only see her, like in the movies. I experienced such a thing too, only in a very negative situation.
I got up at 7 in the morning and i could hear loud noises from outside. I went out and what i saw still sends shivers down my spine. Two dogs were attacking my Buzo... they had a hold on him, one by his neck and the other by his back. Buzo's legs were off the ground and those dogs were tugging and pulling at him as if my Buzo were a rag doll. The world stopped for me at that point. I couldnt feel anything... I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move... I'd lost all my senses but sight. I could only see Buzo being ripped apart. My body felt like lead, i could barely move, could do nothing. I dont know how long it was, but then I could hear screams... loud blood-curdling screams, it took me a few seconds to realise that it was me screaming. I remember running towards him, someone... I think my neighbour chased away the other dogs and i carried Buzo, he was broken and quiet and trembling. I brought him home, I was still screaming and my Mum asked me to calm down. The events that followed were more or less a blur. I just sat down next to him on the floor and held his paw. We had to put him to sleep. I held onto him until he was cold... This is the greatest loss of my life.
I lost people and pens, friends and frisbees, boyfriends and bangles... Its hard to say which of these i miss the most, what do i need back the most. But that's all pointless... Nothing's coming back. But i do know this - Loss is temporary. You only feel it if you dwell on it. There is more to come... much, much more to come, Loss and Gain. Its a funny dance. Funny if you see the humor in it. Tragic if u like drama - You pick! Either ways... Remember what you've lost, miss it, get smarter, move on... and hope for the worst lols.
I have cats now. 3 of them. They have nine lives. I'm hopeful they'll stay around for long ~fingers crossed~
P.S.
* My boobs aren't sagging. They still happy and perky :)
* I HATE gravity.
* Dementors are are soulless creatures considered to be among the foulest beasts on Earth.
They are soul-sucking fiends who guard the wizard prison, Azkaban. And oh yeah.. they appear in Harry Potter and belong to J.K. Rowling :)
* The poem used in the start of the blog is partly the inspiration for this post.
* I'm still waiting for the moment when time stands still for me in a happy positive way :)
Friday, March 7, 2008
Stomp my brain!
That's exactly what I was thinking for the first 10 minutes or so of the movie 'Stomp the yard'
Hmmm... heres a teeny riddle for you...
What do you get when you cross a Cheerleading competition movie with an all male cast of African-Americans???
*ding ding ding* You get Stomp the Yard!!! Ha ha!
Well okay... the movie wasnt all that bad... then again it wasn't all that great either.
Its a typical Black movie setup against 'Stepping' (a style of dance done in African-American fraternities). Its hopelessly cliched and tragically stereotyped. Everything tried and tested was there. I could literally predict whats gonna happen next. It starts off with a street dancing challenge that involved money, and later a gun! Needless to say the leading guy's brother dies in the process. The lead gets into trouble with the law, goes into depression and is shipped off to college.
At his new college 'Stepping' is quite the rage. On his very first day at college he falls in love with a girl, and chases after her and ends up stepping on some pretty important toes (heh heh just couldn't resist that) He challenges the girl's boyfriend (who is the star stepper of one of the campus frats) at a club and wins, but then again the challenge was more free style dancing and this was the leads speciality. Note: notice how I'm not doing names? Thats cos i don't remember and more importantly dont care!)
Winning the challenge was the best thing that happened to the guy since he discovered he had legs. Now teh two leading frats want him to join them. The rest of the story is pretty similar to 'Bring it on' and 'Bring it on again' (Cheerleading movies)
The lead is the typical underdog; he's egotistical, misunderstood and restless and you're rooting for him to win - which he does! Big surprise there!
The movie is at the most mediocre anything else i say will neither exalt nor depriciate it. So I'm gonna stop ranting bout it now and go watch 'Jumpin' which is about get this JUMPING ROPES!!! Cool huh!
Hmmm... heres a teeny riddle for you...
What do you get when you cross a Cheerleading competition movie with an all male cast of African-Americans???
*ding ding ding* You get Stomp the Yard!!! Ha ha!
Well okay... the movie wasnt all that bad... then again it wasn't all that great either.
Its a typical Black movie setup against 'Stepping' (a style of dance done in African-American fraternities). Its hopelessly cliched and tragically stereotyped. Everything tried and tested was there. I could literally predict whats gonna happen next. It starts off with a street dancing challenge that involved money, and later a gun! Needless to say the leading guy's brother dies in the process. The lead gets into trouble with the law, goes into depression and is shipped off to college.
At his new college 'Stepping' is quite the rage. On his very first day at college he falls in love with a girl, and chases after her and ends up stepping on some pretty important toes (heh heh just couldn't resist that) He challenges the girl's boyfriend (who is the star stepper of one of the campus frats) at a club and wins, but then again the challenge was more free style dancing and this was the leads speciality. Note: notice how I'm not doing names? Thats cos i don't remember and more importantly dont care!)
Winning the challenge was the best thing that happened to the guy since he discovered he had legs. Now teh two leading frats want him to join them. The rest of the story is pretty similar to 'Bring it on' and 'Bring it on again' (Cheerleading movies)
The lead is the typical underdog; he's egotistical, misunderstood and restless and you're rooting for him to win - which he does! Big surprise there!
The movie is at the most mediocre anything else i say will neither exalt nor depriciate it. So I'm gonna stop ranting bout it now and go watch 'Jumpin' which is about get this JUMPING ROPES!!! Cool huh!
Monday, March 3, 2008
Guess we all can learn from that fucking spider...
Or maybe not...
The itsy, bitsy spider, climbed up the water spout.
Down came the rain and washed the spider out.
Out came the sun and dried up all the rain,
So the itsy, bitsy spider went up the spout again.
- Anonymous.
Different people may have different views bout tht spider. Some may find it inspiring and feel they have something to learn from it... others (mostly the cynical ones ... people like me) may feel it was a silly spider to keep trying when he knew the rain would come down again and ruin all its efforts. Why the fuck do we keep tryin when we know that failure is a sure thing in the end? Are we so blinded by hope, so hopelessly naive and gullible that we actually think things will work out if we keep trying? Pathetic if you ask me... well I'm the one commenting here so i'll go on and add 'hopelessly' pathetic! I'm done being hopelessly pathetic. I feel its better to not try at all than to try and fail. 'Try and try until you die' isnt that the saying??? I say try as many roads as you can... never venture down the same road twice... thats the way you can truly live your life. Atleast that way you won't find yourself awake at midnight meaning to complete your project but infact pouring your heart out in a lame blog. Blog??? pfft!!! this thing is becoming more of a diary than a blog. Now that is what i call PATHETIC!!! Maybe i should just shut it down... then again... I lurve being melodramatic... and this blog makes me feel like my life actually means something. So... Whats the fun in shutting this thing down eh?
The itsy, bitsy spider, climbed up the water spout.
Down came the rain and washed the spider out.
Out came the sun and dried up all the rain,
So the itsy, bitsy spider went up the spout again.
- Anonymous.
Different people may have different views bout tht spider. Some may find it inspiring and feel they have something to learn from it... others (mostly the cynical ones ... people like me) may feel it was a silly spider to keep trying when he knew the rain would come down again and ruin all its efforts. Why the fuck do we keep tryin when we know that failure is a sure thing in the end? Are we so blinded by hope, so hopelessly naive and gullible that we actually think things will work out if we keep trying? Pathetic if you ask me... well I'm the one commenting here so i'll go on and add 'hopelessly' pathetic! I'm done being hopelessly pathetic. I feel its better to not try at all than to try and fail. 'Try and try until you die' isnt that the saying??? I say try as many roads as you can... never venture down the same road twice... thats the way you can truly live your life. Atleast that way you won't find yourself awake at midnight meaning to complete your project but infact pouring your heart out in a lame blog. Blog??? pfft!!! this thing is becoming more of a diary than a blog. Now that is what i call PATHETIC!!! Maybe i should just shut it down... then again... I lurve being melodramatic... and this blog makes me feel like my life actually means something. So... Whats the fun in shutting this thing down eh?
Saturday, February 9, 2008
The curse of delay.
This whole saga starts with my birth. Okay I've like told this story so many times to my friends in an attempt to make them understand that its done to death. So well I'll try and say it differently here...
When I was to be born, the docs told my Mum that I'd arrive on 4th Jan 1983. Turns out the stork carrying me decided to take a detour. That darn stork was probably high on something... it shoudn't have been on the job in the first place. I've never known a more distracted creature in my whole life. So well Mr. Stork had its little adventure (I'm assuming it was male cos only a guy can be capable of being that careless!) and then realsing he had a job to do rushed off to deliver me to Mulund to my eager parents. We (or rather I) arrived on 11th Jan 1983. And well since then things just keep getting worse.
Until the time I was in school, my time management was someone else's business so things were okay. But then I went to junior college and my poor parents were deluded enough to think I would be responsible.
Well it started with tiny things - wake up late and a lil late to class, sometimes even for an exam. I knew I was flirting with trouble but I never imagined things could get much worse. I didn't know what 'worse' could be..
Good thing 'bout junior college was that they had rules fit for a military school ~makes a dirty face~ So even though I did get into trouble it was never anything drastic. But then I came to BMM. The rules were a bit more relaxed and I started to get careless - with my time and with other people's time.
Although I never used to be that late for class, when it came to plans with friends it was well a DISASTER!!!
I remember one time I had to go to a friends place and I got there TWO HOURS LATE!!! It wasn't intentional. It never is. I mean I've not completely lost my mind that I'd turn up late for an interview or a date... But I do... almost always. It seems like time has lost its hold over me, Or maybe I've lost all sense of time.
Mostly, actually almost always it happens so that I do leave home on time and stuff but then something unavoidable happens and I still get late. Its like the whole darn universe is conspiring against me and making sure that this curse doesn't leave me.
I know of times when I walk in late for movies. Lols (thats a cynical laugh, I'm not enjoying myself!) Concerts, Mass, parties, periods, work... Nothing is spared!
Funny thing is I have a couple of friends who are very good at time management. Even my Ex, he had many faults but impuntuality wasn't one of them. Inspite of all these people in my life I haven't been able to change. But trust me I'm trying. So all I ask for is a little patience... and help!
Monday, February 4, 2008
I'm an Angel... Not.
We all seek perferction, even though we know all too well that no one is perfect. The fact is that it is our imperfections that makes us interesting. And these are the very imperfections that makes us yearn for the perfect... For some reason we search for perfection... especially in other people. We seek angels. I think we do so to hide from our demons. I think we look for that perfect somebody in the wasteful hope that probably their perfection may rub of on us and give us some meaning to our existence.
I, like every other mortal, am guilty of this crime. And frankly I'm yet to meet somebody who hasnt defecated on my illusions of perfection... I'm reading Anne Rice now, I guess my choice of words show that. Lols.
Why can't we just let people be? Its always the same story. You meet someone new and your mind goes into over-drive building what they are- actually what you want them to be. You make them into angels who could do no harm. They are perfect, heavenly beings with radiant sunshine smiles, halo and wings et al. When your around them there's happy music playing in your head. You feel like yelling out loud, "I believe in fairies! I do! I do!" You wanna dance all the time. You have a toothy, goofy grin pasted on your face at all times. Geez what the fuck am i describing? Illusions? Love? Or Drugs??? Figure that out yourself!!! hahaha...
... And then after all this song and dance the inevitable happens. Some one dumps cold water on your head (or down your pants, depends on how you look at it) and you find yourself flat on the pavement. Dazed and confused. And you realise that just like you, they are human and full of flaws. Sometimes your forgive them for their shortcomings, sometimes you dont. Well actually you are the one to blame. But its so much more easier to blame some one else, isn't it?
But inspite of all this your back on square one when you meet someone new... and its the same story all over again.
This whole thing reminds me of this episode of FRIENDS, where Monica and Pheobe meet this cute guy on the street and Monica whistles at him to catch his attention. The guy gets distracted and gets hit by a bus! He lands up in a coma and they visit him daily at the hospital. They imagine what kinda guy he is (or rather what they want him to be) He wakes up and he's not what they made him out to be.
Hmm guess we'd all be amazing people too - as long as we'd be in a coma! ~smirks~
I, like every other mortal, am guilty of this crime. And frankly I'm yet to meet somebody who hasnt defecated on my illusions of perfection... I'm reading Anne Rice now, I guess my choice of words show that. Lols.
Why can't we just let people be? Its always the same story. You meet someone new and your mind goes into over-drive building what they are- actually what you want them to be. You make them into angels who could do no harm. They are perfect, heavenly beings with radiant sunshine smiles, halo and wings et al. When your around them there's happy music playing in your head. You feel like yelling out loud, "I believe in fairies! I do! I do!" You wanna dance all the time. You have a toothy, goofy grin pasted on your face at all times. Geez what the fuck am i describing? Illusions? Love? Or Drugs??? Figure that out yourself!!! hahaha...
... And then after all this song and dance the inevitable happens. Some one dumps cold water on your head (or down your pants, depends on how you look at it) and you find yourself flat on the pavement. Dazed and confused. And you realise that just like you, they are human and full of flaws. Sometimes your forgive them for their shortcomings, sometimes you dont. Well actually you are the one to blame. But its so much more easier to blame some one else, isn't it?
But inspite of all this your back on square one when you meet someone new... and its the same story all over again.
This whole thing reminds me of this episode of FRIENDS, where Monica and Pheobe meet this cute guy on the street and Monica whistles at him to catch his attention. The guy gets distracted and gets hit by a bus! He lands up in a coma and they visit him daily at the hospital. They imagine what kinda guy he is (or rather what they want him to be) He wakes up and he's not what they made him out to be.
Hmm guess we'd all be amazing people too - as long as we'd be in a coma! ~smirks~
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