of Happiness

Happiness is experienced in the strangest and most diverse of ways..
one can be a good night's sleep and waking up to waffles in bed
*that's the movie version, mine would probably be 12 hours of sleep and waking up to calorie-free peanut butter and nutella sandwiches*
and the other by some old-fashioned effort.. at whatever is the task that is presented in front of us.. effort.
what a beautiful word... echoing deep reservoirs of strength.
and after such effort when you sit on the bed and assess your thoughts.. there is strange sort of pervasive feeling of well-being, and satisfaction.

A Teacher who claimed to read hands *this really happened* had told me when I was 14 years old that I was looking at a difficult life ahead... *takes a moment to let you wonder at the various strange aspects of this*

*why was he reading my "hands"
*when did this happen
*why did i let him?
*was he being inappropriate?
*why would he predict, presumably, something interpreted as not-good for a 14 year old

(nothing inappropriate, we were all on a boat... *pause*.... *i promise you this really happened*)

and I had thought at the time that I would be following in some rather difficult footsteps of my father's career at the time.. his was a high pressure job, requiring great integrity, effort, will power, intelligence, and a steady mind to commit to... it was long hours with nary recognition *as you can tell I really look up to my dad :)*

Anyway I was aiming, at the time, at a career identical to his... so I thought difficulty came with the territory and I tried at nonchalance when I said "it's okay, nothing good comes without effort" or something garbled along those lines.. but I couldn't stop a tiny sinking feeling even as I said this..
(he had just told a girl before me her life would be "easy" and she would bring "great fortune" wherever she went... she had nodded enthusiastically and said with her birth came great prosperity into her family... *what a great teacher right?*)
so much as I didn't want to compare my presumed future with someone else's it was hard not to feel a trifle nervous about such proclamations of "hard life ahead".. safe to say he didn't turn out to be my favourite teacher .. *shocking, right?*

Anyway, inspite of the slight dip in my tummy... somewhere with Grace I believed and do still believe in the words of Yogananda ji "An easy life is not a Victorious life"
because it's not about consoling oneself, you little cynics you *chortles*, it's just that now I believe we all have a battle that wages inside of us... and it all comes down to this
How do we respond to the challenges life sends us?
Which inner voice do we let win?
and somehow, if you notice, the easier choice is not normally the "right" one long term...
Somehow... what is for our betterment requires a little bit (or a lot) of effort..
and most of that effort, is saying Yes to the voice that wants to do the right thing...
because doing the lazy thing is so much easier.. because procrastination is easier.. because 'giving in' is easier..
so that Battle, that "difficult" or "hard" *come on, it was nearly 15 years ago!*
that "difficult" or "hard" life he predicted... was just me becoming aware of that battle inside..
and knowing, I just need to make the good side of me win.
Every Day with Each Opportunity

*May God Give Me the Strength*

The Tribe

I know what you're thinking... it's "warm fuzzy moments" but there was nothing fuzzy about what was experienced.. hence, fluffy.. warm and fluffy.. not superficially fluffy like cotton candy that rests on your tongue and cements into this hard brittle sugar pop... but cosy fluffy like a pet resting in your lap.. soft, warm, comforting...

so this was describing a night a few days ago.. literally a few days :)
So the gang got together with the summons of a once-our-President who had till-that-date never exerted Presidential privilege... teehee.. but the nymph called us and up we stood.. and ran... all the way to the past..

it was cosier than memories recollected which is one of the stranger things.. B stood waiting, a mop of wild white hair now, directed me to park nearly kissing the hedge. a warm hug or two later we were inside.. more hugs, artificial oranges, pastries, samosas, jalebis, tracking down of chiwda later (a feast!) we squatted comfortably on the floor.. Time helpfully stretched till its very seams allowing us to dive in to unpack some memories and the "themes" of our current lives.. V, the eccentric genius as always, effortlessly round up us scallywags lost in 2's and 3's while i munched on tiny bowl-after-bowl of chiwda.. we quite properly went around the circle and were absorbed in each telling.. it was the most wonderful conversation... peppered with the usual peals of laughter and a love that threatened to spill out of our chests... too-soon we had to leave to meet the rest of the bandwagon.. many groans later we trooped into respective cars.. with much strategic planning to ensure no one deliberately got lost to find their way back to B's abode..

the rest of the night was a cacophony of wild laughter taking over the tiny cafe.. other patrons looked suitably concerned.. we were a tribe come together after a long while without a chooda ceremony pulling at our strings! In fact the post has officially been renamed.. because that's what it was.. and that's what will hopefully keep pulling us back, ensuring we drive up all the way from the dozen different directions we are stationed in now... to where we are together.. for a few hours or more..
To the continued sharing of our dreams, aspirations, frustrations, learnings and lives... For this group a Big Thank You to the Divine
love you all <3 span="">

Exceptional

Today, it is safe to say, the writer has been let loose... and she is, quite frankly, running amok.
There is major flitting happening.. and the metaphorical champagne has bubbled and spilled on all the party guests. I was not expecting this!

In all the furore, many pins have been discovered that were previously swept under the rug... tiny petty pins that make you question why it was so important to roll the carpet away after all... especially after all this time. but the carpet is lying rolled in one corner and the pins are now a part of the 'known reality'... now I have a choice, to deal or not deal, or pretend there's nothing to deal with...
now normally I have been known to favour the latter.. the ostrich technique rather.
I-don't-see-what-you-are-doing-therefore-it-isn't-happening...

but if the pin is what I think it is.. admittedly it was wise to have kept some distance..
because sometimes when we romanticise our memories, we wonder why they're no longer a part of the present... and sometimes you get the answer immediately...
and then it's time for the writer to roll up her sleeves, take a deep sip of her masala tea..
and dive in to write what she think she knows..
all the while knowing, future her will know much more.. but that's okay... because it's inevitable and life is also about accepting the tiny thorns with the roses... 

Hello '2012-me'

So on January 10th 2012 it seems I wrote this poetic imagery of what I thought marriage would be..
It was apparently
"If the image of marriage could be put together.. I'd think of it as a soft car purring its way through post midnight traffic.. and the two (monogamy) gently resting against each other.. worn out by the seemingly endless day and comfortable in the warmth of the silence that envelopes them."

*snorts*

Although I did say that it was deliberately penned down so I could one day know just how accurate I was..

Well...

Conceded it was 5 years ago when the closest example I had to a contemporary marriage was my sister who was plonked 22 hours away!... (by flight!)... so that shall be my justification.
I was oh-so clueless!

Well at least I got the monogamy right... *snorts some more*...
marriage is not a smooth car ride "worn out" by the day..
It's a live thing... a living organism.. shaped by every day...
It's moulded by nurturing, time, patience, love, trust, even family, sacrifice, upbringing... it is  individual belief systems and dramatically different experiences suddenly inseparable and joined softly.. it isn't two pillars standing together.. it isn't rigid.. it's soft, it has to be..
it has to be malleable.. because 2 concrete structures will only rub and erode against each other..
it's the soft flexible branch that survives the wind.. the dried branch breaks off

I know nothing can ever be an exact universal definition of marriage..
but this is closer to my experience .. no car in the picture unless you count the countless (teehee) crazed car rides to fulfil unending errands.. and more often than not, your partner will probably be doing some equally constructive work heading off in another direction to fulfil his end of the to-do list!

Well, this is the 2017 experience.. I guess we'll know more when we experience more!
but hey... I guess the writer is back :) Ba-Boom!

Ps- also, straighten your hair today... you don't know what chaos tomorrow will bring!
Pps- procrastination only works for college kids. 

of Books... in a way!

I normally read the trashiest (ie. least intellectually stimulating) fiction while travelling..
and of course on vacation :D

but the rare times that I'm travelling sans companion is when I truly dig in into that alternate reality.. what started out as the giggly-shopaholic series (years ago... extremely far from 'then-me')
soon reached thrillers by Baldacci (picked up in bulk and consumed, inhaled, whole in 3 weeks of glorious hopping)

this time I guiltily shelled up the 600 odd bucks at the airport and sheepishly perused Johar's Biography.. Now I didn't know I was a fan until I met him and pretty much ignored every other filmy presence and dove for him and announced my love! It was bizarre.. Bachchan Senior crossed me along with his convoy of security and what I clearly remember is sidestepping him and launching myself into Johar's courteous company! Johar had just finished his peri-pana (touching feet of an elder to receive blessings) of Bachchan and was raising his head when I announced my presence and gushed. I gushed. and I could hear myself gushing, and wondering 'When did I become such a big fan?'... I just stopped short of pronouncing myself his "number one fan", which I'm sure I'm not.. but somewhere between watching endless Koffee with Karan episodes... I began to feel like I knew him. Personally. Like this was a friend who I was meeting after a long time.
And the conversation with him flowed, he's exactly the way his persona is projected on the show.. warm, courteous, polite, friendly... with the tiniest glimpse of an edge...
again, far removed from my reality but so warm!

So when I began reading his biography... it flowed... just like a conversation with him.
a testament to the writer as well the subject..
I had read excerpts of this book online.. but the whole.. was a treat!
a voyeuristic delight!
His fathers humble roots, the privilege lovingly afforded to him.. struggles with finances..
the coming together of talents nurtured unwittingly in school..
a chain of "coincidences"... and then the rise... the rise that looked so easy
but behind it was the effort of generations..

made me re-realize.. the privilege we all stand on today and whose fruits we enjoy...
are all a product and testament of the efforts of our ancestors..
like our own efforts today will provide the foundation for our loved ones to come..
Nothing is overlooked by the Universe... we may reap its results now or later...
visible or invisible...
but Nothing is overlooked by the Universe..

Like a loving aunt had told me in childhood, everything we do or say is noted down somewhere..
she described it more tangibly as the writing of the good or bad...
I too believe... its being taken note of somewhere..
and we're accumulating our entries.. to face today, tomorrow.. or maybe much later someday..
ominous or liberating? guess it depends on the nature of what we're collecting!

moving past nostalgia

I did something strange today... Besides the fact that most of what I do feels largely strange *snorts*
Anyway.. I searched online for someone.. Using some really bizarre keywords and up popped the right image! Now this is all going to sound very cryptic since I am quite deliberately Being cryptic but the good news is.. I got back on Twitter

Must unshackle the creative self from this cocoon that I have strapped myself in
Must do so much
Must write write write
Write write write


Even if all that flows out of me is the word "write"

But speaking of the past... It's not really meant to be forgotten
Each person and relationship must be given its due importance at the time of experiencing it
And if it is in the cards of time that the relationship and association will not move beyond a certain decade.. It still exists as a part of who we were, what we thought, believed, cared about
And more than a marker of how far we've come
It still deserves its due that we cannot dismiss as imaginary
It existed. It made an impact. It was. And now is a memory arguably worthy of respect and thankfulness :)

But mostly must move on and Write!!!

music

I tried for a coherent narrative.. but today i did something i don't remember doing before..

i let music overwhelm... wash over... pour out of... vibrate molecules inside... of [me].

dance to it yes

allow the rhythm inside and dance it Out. yes 

in the past

let the rhythm pour in, and ferment change... not before today...

when you want to drink something.. to eat something.. you make sure its prepared in a clean kitchen.. its free of bacteria and dirt..

and something i never realised before today.. even when i listen to music there was always a wall of "oh no, who knows what is breeding inside these words.. the thought"

so theres a wall..

but when i saw his intent... the purity of the intent allowed something inside me to shift and pour inside of me

and the molecules vibrated inside of me.. filled with his intent.

and i could finally understand the passion some have for music

i could finally understand

experience.. what a teacher!