Oh that thing called- Break up

Today I went to meet a friend who took me along to buy cards for his beloved. But the reason was not a happy one, in fact it was sad with a hopeful edge. He bought the cards because the couple have decided to part ways with mutual consent. He bought a 'sorry' card to apologize for all the mistakes he has made, a 'thank you' card to tell her that he is grateful she came to meet him for one more time and also hoping that things will not end there, another to wish her 'good luck' for future life and her upcoming exams and one 'I Love You' card to give it to her and express his love for her, hoping that somehow she will stay and not leave him all miserable and alone. He also bought a little gift, a pretty miniature statue of a girl. When he picked it up, I looked at his face for all the signs, that he was trying to find his girl's resemblance in that statue. This was not a very happy shopping experience but romantic as well as heart wrenchingly hopeful.

It lead me to think that if he loves her so much then what lead to this decision of separation, which he says is mutual. To me the way he was trying to make sure that somehow he will find a way to make her be with him forever, doesn't really look like that he was a part of the decision. But because I have known him for a long time and I know about the relationship a little, I knew that both parties did give their consent to this separation. But I still didn't know what was so big that it became larger than the love that they share for each other. There must have been reasons in the first place which brought these two people together. So being the curious case that I am, I asked him the question. Why are they separating? I was told that there are ego clashes between the two, they fight a lot, about every thing and anything, she complains that he is not a good listener, etc. I found these reasons to be very similar to what I read in the magazines and newspapers. Nothing out of this world, they are not the reasons which cannot be sorted out with a little talking and understanding and few compromises. But then who am I to propose such suggestions, someone who has never had a normal, in the same city, meeting every week, buying gifts and coochie-cooing at the India gate or on the stairs of a metro station kind of relationship. I am the last person who should suggest anything like this.

However, even though I am not the eligible authority, I would say that if you love someone, or at least if you have chosen someone who you think is an appropriate candidate to be your life partner, how can you not communicate, understand and compromise a little to accommodate the differences. If you cannot, either you do not know how to make a choice or you have a very stubborn attitude. Of course you should keep you dignity and self respect but you should also have the maturity to determine when to start defending these two very important aspects of you. It amazes me that how is it not clear to people that when they enter in a relationship, they will have to make space for the other person in their minds and not just their heart (which as a matter of fact is only a blood pumping machine for the body and has no thoughts or feelings whatsoever). By making space I mean, expect the person to be a little weird, not at all perfect, with strangest habits and notions and beliefs. You should also accept that it some very strange quality for which you feel the attraction towards the person and call it love.

I read this book few days back called 'Eat Pray Love' by Elizabeth Gilbert. In the autobiography the author explains the way she behaves when she in in love with someone, and for some reason I can totally identify with it. She writes:

"To have issues with boundaries, one must have boundaries in the first place, right? But I disappear into the person I love. I am the permeable membrane. If I love you, you can have everything. You can have my time, my devotion, my ass,my money, my family, my dog, my dog's money, my dog's time- everything.If I love you, I will carry for you all your pain, I will assume for you all your debts (in every definition of the word), I will protect you from your own insecurity, I will project upon you all sorts of good qualities that you have never actually cultivated in yourself and I will buy Christmas presents for your entire family. I will give you the sun and the rain, and if they are not available, I will give you a sun check and a rain check. I will give you all this and more, until I get so exhausted and depleted that the only way I can recover my energy is by becoming infatuated with someone else."

After reading this I felt that this kind of love would be like loving someone like a dog and possibly lead to being treated like one too. No one can tell us what to do in the matters like these, but as humans we can at least be compassionate towards the person who is going to be kicked out of the circle of love. As for y friend breaking up tomorrow, I can only pray that all his cards would work and make the girl stay with him. Amen.

Poof!!! Magic

I have always been an ardent admirer of Harry Potter's story, in the form of books as well as films. People often consider it childish for my ancient age, but I do not bother about it. 

Last evening I was watching 'Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince' for the nth number of time, but yesterday I watched it till the end for the first time. I also read the book, few years back and that is why I knew that Professor Dumbledore would die in the movie; thus I could not bring myself to watch the whole film before yesterday. Every time I used to get up and leave at the scene when Professor Dumbledore is standing with Malfoy and Harry is hiding in a room beneath their feet. I could never watch the film beyond this scene, though I knew what would happen next; it's just that I didn't want to see the horror of losing some one who I have admired as much as, probably Harry does. And it is not just admiration, the character of Professor Dumbledore is so magnanimous and still wonderfully underplayed, so that Harry remains the central character- the focus, the doer. So yesterday I gathered strength and sat through the above mentioned scene and it relieved me to witness that the loss was shown as something very real, I felt very sad but also accepted it.

In the same movie there is this scene where Harry and Professor Slughorn are talking about Harry's mother, when the latter says that life is very odd, that one moment it is going on and then..poof! It's gone! There isn't anything extraordinary about what he said, all of us know it. But what is missing it that we forget to remind ourselves about it. It is something which should be repeated to ourselves everyday, every few hours, to keep the mind acquainted with the reality of the possibility of anything, absolutely anything disappearing like it was never there. One moment I was told that I am very important, so very crucial that I had to be called along with the grandfather on an auspicious friday. Another moment I cannot be talked to in front of a certain person, probably I do not even exist. Poof!! I am gone.

Now the irony is that this poof trick doesn't work when I really want it to. Like I really want this realization of being non-existent to go away along with a lot of other burdensome thoughts.

Now that I have written all this I realize that I wanted to write something else but somehow I wrote all this. All I want to say is Repairo to this post and Wingardium Leviosa to myself! Poof!

Glad Tidings

Today what I am writing is because of a dear friend who gave some strong views about my writing till now. Although I would not disclose what he said to me but definitely it changed my perspective about my expressions in writing. It is strange that I never thought from that point of view. All I was thinking was what Wordsworth said about poetry- "the spontaneous overflow of powerful emotions recollected in tranquility."  Ever since I read I this description many years back I have applied it to all kinds of writing and not just poetry, which I am not sure I write well. So this friend has brought me back from my illusion and shown me a brighter side which is what I want to write about today ( and hopefully in future also). When he was talking to me about it (the writing) I felt as if he turned a mirror in which I have been seeing myself from last few months, in a different angle. It felt as I was swimming in deep waters and thinking that I cannot breath anymore, but after listening to him I realized that I can swim in the water where it will look blue and green and I will also be able to breath, in fact I would be laughing, while still in the water.

So going with the flow, water is something which makes me very happy; apart from being my favourite drink on earth, it is a blessing which nourishes, inside and outside. I would not say that it cannot destroy but that is an extreme situation. The smell of first rain on the thirsty earth is no stranger to anyone, I have never met a person till now who doesn't absolutely love the scent. If I were a believer in rebirth I would say I must have been a fish in my last life. I have always complained about the fact that my city doesn't have a sea-coast; we have a river but it is in such unimaginably bad state that one cannot dream of sitting close it, or even passing by it. In my imagination of paradise I see myself lying beside a river bank under an Amaltas tree, with my hand in water; after a while I get up and walk in the shallow parts of the river, looking at the fishes. Just the thought of it makes me feel blissful.

Another absolutely lovely blessing of God in summers is Amaltas tree. I cannot fill myself enough with its beauty. The tree has yellow colour flowers which are so thickly distributed that no leaves are visible. The yellow ranges from soft mild yellow to bright lemon yellow. The texture of the flower looks like wings of a yellow butterfly or rather like butter. Nowadays it is in full bloom in the city and I cannot get enough of looking at it and admiring it (which is dangerous while I am driving). But it makes me so very happy. Very unusually I have never tried to touch the flowers, even though they are strewn all over the road. And never smelled the as well, and now as I am thinking of it this what I am going to do tomorrow. Inhale the pretty smell all inside me and feel the buttery softness on my face.

The feeling of happiness leaves me looking like a statue of laughing Budhha. I cannot stop smiling. People who I meet on the way smile back at me. It feels so exquisite. When I was studying two years back, on the last day before exam everyone was saying goodbye to everyone, some people in my class suggested a game to be played. The game was that there were envelopes on a table with all of ours names and few pieces of paper, all we had to do was write a message to whoever we wanted and go to the table and put it in the respective person's envelope. Whether to write your name after the message or not was a choice left open. After everyone was done, the envelopes were distributed and we were all reading the messages and crying and hugging. Now I am telling this story because there was this anonymous message that said I look beautiful when I smile with my heart. The message was so touching it made me smile with all my heart. I still don't know who wrote it as there were seventy-five people in my class but I will always cherish the message. At other times also people have said nice things about my smile or laughter but all I want to say is that it is something I love to do, and I pray to have all the more reasons to laugh and smile, even in my liver.

Why am I writing all this? It's all because a new door has opened in my mind, and an old one has been closed, the darkness has given way to light which fills me all the time. I am swimming in the blue-green-turquoise water and laughing.

Lets Dance

An article in newspaper today, that is a part of talk by Osho, mentions that certain indigenous groups in India say that they do not dream at all. If somebody ever dream- which is a rare phenomenon, the whole village fasts, prays to God. They believe that it is a sign that something has gone wrong- a man has dreamed! It never happens in their tribe is because they live so totally that nothing is left in the head to be completed in the dreams.

Instantly I compare the situations- all around me I see people who dream and interpret them in order to find some meaning in it to bring an order in their lives, or use it as a hope of acquiring good luck, money, life partner or whatever it is that they want. Often when the dream is not so pleasant people try to find a solution to avoid the bad. I wouldn't say I am any different although I do not go to the extreme of finding any help if the dream is not to my liking. But I do believe that good dreams are shown to us by God and bad ones are an incitement of Satan. This also was read by me in a book and I believe it because not all of my dreams are connected to my present situation. But I would also not disagree with what these tribes-who consider dreams to be a sign of not living the life fully, say. My mind right in the process of finding justification for all the past dreams and how they could be translated into some unfulfilled activity. I wonder what would Freud say about all this!

Any how the Osho article also says that dreams occur because we spent whole day in thinking and most these thoughts are left half way as all of us very busy all day. Thinking means that we have huge amount of energy which is not spend by us sitting in an office and looking at the computer screen; it is this energy which leads to the dreams. It should be looked upon as a sign that the life is not being lived to its full extent. Pondering on this makes me want to get up and dance and complete a long due wish, which means the article has been successful in its purpose, as its title is- ' Feel free, Dance a little more'.

It's forgiveness

Every time I pray I ask God to forgive me for my sins. From last few months the realization of being a sinner has become even stronger. Then last night as I was watching a movie it dawned upon me that I do ask God to forgive me but I haven't been able to forgive myself. For all the wrongs I have done to my soul. Making it believe that it was incomplete without a soulmate, when no such thing exists. Hurting it every time in the process of making someone else happy, helping, being there as much as I could despite the distance, opposing and ignoring my other loved ones, trying to change to become agreeable, and crying so much that when I wake up my eyes are swollen. I have been hurting myself incessantly.

Forgiveness- it becomes so difficult to give it to yourself. All this time I was trying to forgive someone who never even said sorry! Probably doesn't even realize the extent of the damage which has been done. But then why should I blame another person when I was involved voluntarily in something which has brought nothing but pain and regret.

It is difficult to forgive myself, the more I try to do it the more clearer I can see my faults. The wounds and scratches on my soul. It becomes even more difficult when people around you, who you love keep reminding you that it is all you fault. Yes it is all my fault. I read that as a human God made me so that I can commit mistakes and repent; I am told that God loves those who do. I do want forgiveness: from God, others whom I have hurt - knowingly or unknowingly and most of all from myself.

The end

For the lack of a respectable word for it- the conclusion is that there should be nothing but thankfulness and gratitude towards God for getting her rid of the bullshit that it all was. Good riddance from all the cribbing and complaining she had to bear with; all the negativity and thanklessness personified.

It was sheer dirt. Bullshit.

mourning

The room choked with the tears and the darkness spread like smudged kohl in her eyes. The air swelled as the water filled her eyes again. Sometimes it became impossible to stop them. You should not cry in self pity, someone has said to her, and the remembrance of it made her feel guilty. She tried pacifying herself with the guilt. But it would just not stop, the voice of her crying became louder and she bent herself in prostration. While the submission provided relief it also felt as if her aching heart had stopped beating- may be that is what caused succour.

She lifted herself up and inhaled- a long lost breath. If someone were to see her like that it would seem as if she has lost someone to death. It is easier to appease the hurt and loss if God takes someone from you. To agree with God is the most comforting- probably because the lost cannot be found in this life; it is impossible to imagine their life after death. How should one mourn when someone wants to be lost to you? When someone doesn't feel the urge to be in your life anymore? Rejection in life is not unusual, but those who were rejected themselves and know the pain it causes, how do they gather the courage to hurt someone else in the same way and then pretend that they have a normal life?

Yaad

The first time he held her hand she couldn't look up, her ears became red with the blood rushing to her face. It was nothig new or indescribable but she wouldn't forget that one moment, ever. Even now the memory made her feel as if she was sitting in that car. That night was still dark and the smell of the air- peculiar to that part of the country still requires her to take deep breaths.

She sat in the wooden rocking chair and thought about all those times, it was always better than thinking of him, now. She smiled as she remembered how childishly he rummaged through her bag, asking her what everything was; it was intimidating- men don't do things like that. but at the same time it felt like he was her own; she always thought of him as her own flesh and blood. They were each other's extension- in every possible way. Whenever someone said that humans are created in pairs- she imagined them being a part of a single body divided unproportionally.

It is strange how the mind remembers few details so clearly while forgetting some- how does it determine what to keep and what to let go? Incidentally the radio played the song from a movie they used to think of as their own story.

No more a prayer

Once I was a prayer

which was granted

then I became a prayee

and the wish was discarded

may be I was a false prayer

or my asker lied to God

He sent me to fufill another

and empty my own

but I don't wish to blame

blessing never does

nobody knew the prayer

has a heart too

that prays- always.

You.

like I was trying to balance
on a see-saw
You- my smile and my tears,
balanced the contradiction
in me- or made it worse

the light and the dark
the white and the blue
the high and the low
You- my faith and my secret
in the brown eyes.

the snow i could never see
the fruits i could never pluck
the house- You said was mine,
is lost in the balance.

the balance- love or lust
hate- never-
pray- forever.

Blank Stare

the wall stared back at her as she was trying to figure out a shape in the uneven surface, a face or a thought to fill the void. how many times can a person commit a mistake and repent? She felt like a step in a ladder on which people kept their feet for a while to move up- is it better than being a doormat? Trying to think of a reference which would make her feel better and all that comes to her mind is that he used to stare at blank walls once upon a time. A blind person she had become in last four years and followed him like his shadow would. Figuring out a way to put her feet in his shoes and feel like a winner after breaking and destroying another human being's dreams and spirit.

A dark well with a rope hanging down it she was holding on to the rope, everyday pushing herself to climb a little higher, hearing the voices outside which all say that it is not worth to hang on a rope like this for someone who pushed you inside. Yes, she thought, I can come out of it but somewhere in her heart she still hoped a hope which was like a blank stare on the wall. What would bring comfort? She cried in her prayers for patience and strength; for a belief of not belonging; help!

Days passed by but the voice the answer he gave her when she asked- are you happy?, never went away. Like a dark red stain of pomegranate juice smashed on a pale wall- the colour of the heart, it stayed.