The stories we tell........

While surfing the internet, this is what I came across, "We have, as human beings, a storytelling problem. We're a bit too quick to come up with explanations for things we don't really have an explanation for." 

And I read it twice, then one more time, then one more time and then yet again ! This statement is the exact antithesis of the more "cool" and popular statement, " I am what I am".  Not many of us have the courage to admit that "I am what I would want people to think I am". I talk not what I want to, but what I think is appropriate; I live not the way I want to but what others approve of; I work on not what I have a passion for but what is "acceptable"..... and ultimately I become not what I am inside of me but like the one who's on the other side of the mirror ! 

I find it annoying when people make assumptions about me. Why? Not because the assumptions challenge my identity but because they put a doubt over the image of mine that I portrayed until now; the image that I thought is the "real me". It's kind of strange how we sometimes get stuck up with our own self-created mirage. We stare at it for so long that we convince ourselves of its "imaginary reality"  and decide to live with it for the rest of our lives, believing and proclaiming, "THIS IS ME" !

But just like the delusion of a mirage breaks sooner or later and makes way for the true reality to emerge, so does it happen with us. To take it from a famous Abraham Lincoln quote, you can fool all the people some of the time, you can fool some people all the time.....extending it to saying that you can probably manage to fool all the people all the time and  even fool yourself for sometime. But there comes a time when you feel, "this is it, who am I kidding" ! And this is the time when the mirage vanishes, the mirror breaks and you find yourself standing against the wall. And then you have to see inwards.......And it is then when you have to put together the different parts of the story that you have been telling everyone all this while. 

As you do this, you realize that unknowingly, inadvertently you changed protagonist of your story. He/She transformed into an explanation, a justification of your story; not an active part of it. But there's still time, there is always time..... it's like, "picture abhi baaki hai, mere dost !" And you start with a new story, a story where "YOU ARE WHAT YOU ARE" and in this script you don't explain but ASSERT......yes, this is what I was and this is what I will be .............

Sisters & Stories....

Face reading is not exactly an art. And my face reading lessons sprang up in the most unexpected of all places; my daily commute in the ladies compartment of the Mumbai local trains. Every countenance, every expression reflects what the mind and heart says; whether there's a tussle going on between the two or are they enjoying a friendly rapport rendering a composed demeanor. If you observe closely you can actually catch a glimpse of a numerous emotions at one go - the relief of the end of another hard day's work, the joy of going back to friends, family and/or kids, the irritation of the long commute, the baggage of the work being carried home. Its amazing how so many feelings co-exist; right from the joy of trying that new recipe that an office colleague told you about to the dread of going back to oily kitchen shelves and laundry bag full of soiled clothes !


I can see loneliness and companionship, freedom and captivity, vivacity and listlessness; all at one go. There'll be someone sitting at the corner on the window seat, her eyes not winking even once and constantly gazing at the landmarks that rush past. It all reflects on her face, how things in her life have rushed past her  and she has been continuously moving along; not once trying to grab what is supposed to be left behind. There's another one, clutching her bag too tight and sitting cross-legged. She looks everyone with prying eyes and becomes attentive  every-time the train halts. Looks like she fears that she might just miss the right way. She knows she has family and friends and people who care. But she seems hesitant of mingling with crowd, maybe scared of her own vulnerability !


The one standing near the door, enjoying the breeze cutting across her face, letting her hair fly with the wind...she's definitely got something on her mind. I wonder where her thoughts take her ! Is she happy about her new-found freedom and wants to immerse in the moment, not missing one view that rushes past or is it the yearning to go out there, jump and fly and break loose.....I wonder what it is?


The lady who sits across those two young girls listens to their chattering quite amusingly. She smiles, winks, nods her head and then she seems to wander away in her own train of thoughts...Maybe she's reminiscing the days of yore, gossip she shared with her best friend, the little secrets they shared...and the blissful little world free of worries and responsibilities !


And then there's me. I just look around, in search of stories written on faces and in the eyes. There's so much these stories teach me. The value of freedom, the baggage of responsibility, the joy of independence, the comfort of togetherness ! 

Summer Showers !!!!!!

As Charles Dickens would put it, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times"..... Unfortunately, in this case its skewed more towards the being "worse" and I am really trying hard to make it "Better-Best-Awesome"....

It feels strange and at times even frustrating when the most seemingly obvious things go against you and you frantically try your best to make things work, let things fall into place and get a "life" for yourself...not just a "phase of survival". Solitude is definitely a desired of state of mind but loneliness takes you unawares. How do you tackle that? Being busy with your work, going out with people around, reading books, watching movies....so many good things to do, aren't they ? Yet what if even the crowd around you gets muted ! That sounds like one scary image, at least to me..... 

But then the graying of the clouds is the precursor to a refreshing shower of rain. One that refreshes, rejuvenates and reinvigorates you ! You don't have to just stand out there, gazing at the endless expanse of the sky, searching for the glimmer of lightning. Instead, do yourself some good; smell the rain, lookout for signs of new life waiting to come out of their cocoons,brace yourself for the splish-splash and rain"Suit" up.

No doubt the rain is not a one-off event and it is definitely not something that will never happen again. But then doesn't the fun lie in making the most mundane and routine events full of verve and vivacity. There's a shower after every summer.....so if you just stand and soak, that's called "survival". But if you dance around with the rain drops, feeling every drop trickle down your hair and cheeks....that's called "living a life" !

Relive

Isn’t it strange? Whenever we reach towards the finishing line, we always tend to think of all that has gone by, all that has now become a thing of the past. Why is it that we never seem to think of all that is yet to come? We, who pride ourselves as being the “most insightful” of all animals roaming the face of earth, all we tend to look is backwards - reminisce, remember, recollect.

We just want to hold on and are never ready to let it go. Why is this? Are we scared to look ahead or are we too reticent to come out of our comfort-zones. Actually, I guess it’s none of the two. It’s more like the “5-minutes-sleep syndrome”. Just like those precious 5 minutes in the morning when you think you can catch up on all the lost sleep of the previous night, u feel, “let me relive just one more moment of the time gone by and I am gonna make the most of it”...

I know it’s a cliché that time flies by, but you know that’s the beauty of clichés! They are clichéd because they are so true. Time truly flies past and in fact I would say it’s more like the sand than the wind. The more you try to grasp it, the faster it slides out of your hands, from between the spaces of your fingers. Actually, on second thoughts, maybe that’s why they say that walking through times by holding on to someone’s hands is much easier. You see, the spaces between your fingers are filled and you can hold on to time...hold on to your memories or better still, create new ones!

Yet most of us invariably find ourselves standing at a threshold of a new beginning and before taking that step forwards, we turn our heads backwards. Not because we want to hold on to something. But because we want to relive. Maybe splash in that water-puddle one more time, propose to our sweetheart one more time (and do it better this time :P) , enjoy that pillow fight with the younger/older brother/sister one more time,  tip-toe in the kitchen for the 2 am maggi at a school buddy’s place one more time,  enjoy a friend’s misery by hiding the precious Blackberry one more time.......Just RELIVE one more time !

Don’t hold on.....RELIVE!!!! Not once but every time that you want to.........

I want to be me !

Masks & facades & deliberate expressions,

reality is lost in the midst of imitations.

Walking among the "august" company

chin held up & head held high.

Eyes fixed on the horizon,

Its the landscape that has got lost somewhere midway........

Trying to be that "one of the best",

fixated on being a "cut above the rest"

success governed by figures in "black & white"

Its the purpose of it all that has got lost somewhere midway.........

Exchange not communication; acknowledgment not recognition

transaction not relation; efficiency not passion

with attributes of a gadget planted in you

Isn't it your OWN image in the mirror that has got lost somewhere midway..............

Silent lullaby.....

While the head rests on the pillow,
the mind wanders into a world of imagination;
the heart takes a flight to the land of nowhere ...

The ceiling changes its contours every minute,
Shadows on the wall dance to the tune of the breeze that flurries past !

Eyes seek to see beyond the pitch darkness...
& sounds of silence.....are my lullaby for the night.....

Do you remember ?

To all those who roam the premises of this maggudom, to all those who are “not just another brick in the wall”, if you pose the question, “What is life at WIMWI like”, the response can be fairly expected & monotonous. Almost 80% of the junta (this is just an innocent writer’s freedom to create impressions, kindly do not ask for source of data!) would inadvertently come up with adjectives close to these four: interesting, intensive, challenging, competitive........

But the wimwian in me begs you to see on the other side of the wall. Remember that day when you were feeling a complete loser, thinking how you had committed the biggest mistake of your life by joining an MBA course, how you are just not made for it.  Along came the studmaxx, I-schol guy/girl. Gave you that pat on the back and said, “abe, itna kya load le raha hai? .5 credit hi toh hai, chill maar.....chal Rambhai pe sutta maarte hain!” And something inside you said we are all in this together. Marks, GPAs, grades would remain nothing but case-facts, what will shine through is your learning from these “case facts” and a better analysis the next time.

And that day when you were lying in your bed, thermometer mercury touching 102 degrees and in comes in that nerd to be at your side. He (actually he/she....) sits at your bedside, frantically start calling fellow maggus across the dorm if someone has a medicine, make sure you have a dose and takes you to the doctor first thing in the morning. He would be your mum, your doc, your friend and even your nurse, if need be.

And do you recollect the day when you had that “serious” fight with your guy/gal on the phone and declared break up for probably a 116th time in the last four months. First, he pulled your leg, laughed off the affair and enjoyed your moment of distress. But then his was the shoulder you rested your head on and both of you cribbed about how people outside the campus will never understand the rigours of wimwi life. And then you screened every possible fachha/fachhi/tuchha/tuchhi who is single, available....did a situation analysis, reviewed your options based on a set of criteria and devised an action plan!

And of course how can you forget that day of the sudden surprise quiz. You had slept through all the lectures, had opened the casemat only once to check the number of sessions and weightage of CP marks. Just as the maggus ran towards their rooms only to lock themselves in, it was he who took you by your arm and in 15 minutes took the most fabulous REM that even the best of the TA could not attempt !

Revel in the spirit of the place. Don’t just think of the “stud” wimwi connections/networks, try and build bonds and relationships or at least don’t just deal with people, associate with them.  They say wimwi gives you a contact list that you can “use” all your life...

Well, I am looking forward to the list that I will “cherish” all my life.....

P.S. : I am sure I don’t need to remind you of the first WAC night out and the first WAC run and memories you all share of it, collectively !