Staying Positive during Coronavirus Lockdown

Not just in India, but almost everywhere around the world, there is some kind lockdown at this time. Social distancing is a must and WFH (Work from home) is the new norm.

You might be staying with your family or alone by yourself; you could be used to staying indoors or this might just be making you crazy – whatever it is, it is now of absolute importance that we stay indoors and follow every rule that is being announced from time to time by our governments.

However, this is also bringing in lots of stress, paranoia, fear as well as negativity. So, how do we keep our sanity in place and stay positive? Here are some pointers – they have helped me and I am hoping they will help you too:

Limit your intake: With too much information (and plenty of misinformation) floating around these days, it’s very difficult to stay calm and positive. One of the ways to avoid this is to choose what you are going to watch, read and listen to. It’s a good idea to keep most of your WhatsApp contacts on mute mode, and listen to just one single news source once or twice daily for a limited time that you decide and stick to. I never watch a news channel for more than 2-3 minutes.

Watch a funny video. There are thousands of videos that can help you take your mind off current events, if only for three minutes at a time. Start to bookmark the funniest among them – on YouTube or Facebook - so you can return for a repeat viewing whenever things feel gloomy. My favourites are the animal videos like The Dodo or Pet Collective. And most of their videos are less than 3 minutes in length.

Take advantage of found time. I am a Corporate and Personal Brand Strategist and I also conduct workshops on Tea and off late started making Tea related travel videos. March to May were packed with several engagements related to both these activities. However, I had to cancel each of them keeping in mind the current scenario. Though it was stressful, particularly since some of my projects were about to be completed and then put on hold indefinitely, I decided that instead of stressing I shall use my time to learn something new or to use time in a different way and make it productive. I am now learning how to create and edit videos and in the process of starting a few ‘Live’ spots soon using my social media platforms. I found this to be very liberating. 

Maintain Your Routine

Most people aren't used to this situation as there is going to be less social contact. So the important thing right now is to maintain your daily routine. You follow a certain routine when you go to the office; follow that routine now too. Otherwise, you will disrupt your sleep-wake cycle and disturb your mental health. Also now that you are at home, you are restricted, so chances of doing exercises are limited. But one shouldn't stop working out, because if you stop, then it will lead to depression or anxiety. Do endorphin-releasing exercises like stretching and yoga.

Focus on the positives

It is almost impossible to know exactly what the future looks like.

Try not to obsess over things; What will happen next? Will the supermarket shelves be restocked soon? How long am I going to be trapped in the house? When will this all end?

Instead, try to focus your mind on more positive things. For example, despite Italy being one of the worst affected countries by coronavirus, Italians can be heard singing from their windows/balconies to boost morale. Even in the darkest of times, we must try to find a flicker of light at the end of the tunnel.

Also, this could be the time to bond with your family better, rekindle love and be for each other more. Be it with your partner or your children or your parents, take this as a time given to you to make do for all lost times and opportunities.

And if you have a dog at home or any other pet - play and spend time with them – as you already know (since you already have a pet at home) – they are the biggest happiness booster.

Just an Ordinary Story

“You must have really hated me when I was a child,” Vishakha said quietly to her mother, Kaushini.

Kaushini froze. “What kind of question is that? What are you trying to imply?” Her shock slowly twisted into a mixture of anger and hurt—a strange, familiar feeling she found herself experiencing more often these days.

Vishakha didn’t respond. Her heart was pounding, her stomach churning. She felt numb. The pain of 35 long years suddenly surged through every inch of her body. She didn’t know how to control it. She didn’t want to control it. It was time to speak her truth.

She looked up slowly, her eyes meeting her mother’s.
“Ma, there are so many moments from my childhood where your actions made it clear you couldn’t even tolerate me. You never hugged me, not as a child, not while I was growing up. You were always irritated with me. You never had a kind word to say about me. I grew up thinking I was ugly… useless. You once called me heartless. You even said a dog would have been better than me for you.”

She paused. Her voice was cracking, and she hated it—hated that her mother could still affect her like this. She didn’t want to show that these things still mattered, even after 35 years. So she fought her tears, clenched them tight in her eyes, and swallowed her cry—a trick she had mastered through childhood, when night after night she cried herself to sleep, silently, with nothing but her own pain and existence.

“Ma, do you remember I used to have terrible breathing problems when I was little? It got so bad, you had to pull me out of dance classes for a while. During those attacks… it wasn’t just a physical struggle. It was panic. I had to focus so hard just to get air into my lungs. Any noise around me would throw me off. I’d try again and again—on the sixth, or seventh, or twelfth attempt, I’d finally catch a breath.

Once, during one of those moments—when I felt like I was fighting for my life—I asked Bhai to stop talking. I was barely holding on, and the noise was making it worse. You came rushing in from the next room and shouted at me, ‘If you’re having a breathing problem, you expect everyone else to stop what they’re doing? Get real!’ Then you left.

And I blamed myself. Again. Like always. I believed I was the problem, even for trying to breathe.”

Her voice trailed off, heavy with memories of lonely, unbearable days.

Kaushini snapped, furious. “You’re making me out to be a monster! I don’t remember any of that. These are your imaginations! Now stop it.”

Vishakha smiled sadly. She had expected this. This was exactly how her mother had always responded—by denying, deflecting, turning everything around to make it Vishakha’s fault. Even now, she woke up from nightmares where her mother was yelling at her, punishing her for something she didn’t understand, her words slicing through Vishakha’s heart like knives.

“Ma, why did you leave me with your parents after I was born and not take me back until I was 18 months old? I was a sick baby, right? Underweight, because you were very ill during your pregnancy. Then how could you stay away from me? How could a mother not want to be with her newborn? Weren’t you worried? Didn’t you care?”

Kaushini was silent. Her rage had shifted into a quiet detachment, lost in old thoughts of what could have been. She was once the golden girl—radiant in school and college, a radio artist, an award-winning elocutionist, the first female leader of her college’s student political wing. Beautiful and brilliant, the world had been at her feet. Men of all kinds had tried to win her over, and she had brushed them aside with ease. She had dreams. She had fire. She could have been a famous singer. A fierce politician. A queen, even—revered and adored.

But she got married.

To the wrong man. Into the wrong family. Into the wrong life.

And everything changed.

“All I became was a cook and a maid for my husband,” she thought bitterly. “And then I got bloody pregnant.” Her face flushed with renewed anger. That pregnancy had felt like the final nail in her coffin, sealing her into a life she never wanted. “I could have been someone else if…” Her thought was interrupted by her daughter’s voice.

“Ma, do you remember that car accident? The one after which I had a miscarriage, and my marriage ended? I came home, broken… destroyed. I was sitting next to you, desperate for comfort, for someone to hold me and tell me that I’d be okay. That I still had reasons to live.

And you told me a story. You told me how terrible your own marriage was, how you and Dad fought constantly and had decided to get a divorce. And then… you found out you were pregnant. You said you were furious. You knew that once your parents found out, they’d never let you leave. Even if you did manage a divorce, having a child would ruin your chances of the life you wanted. So, you tried to induce a miscarriage—by behaving recklessly. So that no one could blame you.

But you failed.

And I was born.”

Vishakha looked at her mother, her voice steady.
“Why did you tell me that story on that day? That day, all I needed was love. An embrace. A reason to keep going. And instead, you told me I shouldn’t have existed in the first place.”

Tears were streaming down her face, and this time, she didn’t hold them back.
“Ma, now I understand why you hated me so much,” she whispered. Her tears were no longer just pain—they were release. She smiled through them.

At last, she had cut the old, rotten, suffocating umbilical cord.

It had taken her 35 years, but now she had the rest of her life ahead. Unattached. Healing. Free.

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My first try at writing a story. Hope you like it. Please send me your comments. And Thank you for reading it.:)

Dhaka... And the Killings.

That horrible thing that happened in Dhaka, the particular way the people were killed, the mental built of the terrorists, the motives - we, the humans, are the strangest species isn't it? We kill our own kind with so much cruelty for no apparent reasons and then we say we kill for a "cause".

Gukshan is where my sister lives, where I have gone to a Durga Puja celebration last time I was in Dhaka, and dinned at a fancy Italian restaurant - a treat my brother-in-law gave for us...

When I first heard about the attack around 12 am on Saturday, first thing that came to be my was "Oh God! hope its not in Gulshan!" While that was my protective part that was thinking, the rationale part immediately made the connection that it must be Gulshan because that makes sense when targeting "foreigners".

In the morning I called up my mother. "Did you see what happened in Dhaka?" "That's what we have been following since morning", she said, and continued, "Could you call them back at Dhaka? I am scared to call them, don't know what I will hear!" I reassured her, "Yes I called them at night and had a talk. They were all at home and safe." "Thank God. But those people there, will now never go back home" she said - the exactly the same thing she had said when India was stopped for 4 days in the November of 2008... Terror goes on, and we live.

First Date Stories: 2

A predetermined pub.

She arrives on time and doesn’t find him.

She waits.

He arrives, fashionably late by 15 min.

Usual greetings, traffic and weather discussions over. No apologies offered for late entry.

Ready to order drinks.

She orders a wine; he a single malt - mixes water to that, she observes.

He: “What are you looking for from this date?” gulps some whisky, makes a funny face and asks.

She: “I am not sure. This is my first date in a long time. I am willing to see where it can go.” She doesn’t really understand the funda of dating anyway, but she can’t say that, of course.

He: “Oh! Ok Ok” he stops, breaks into a big smile and continuous, “But don’t fall in love with me!” And winks.

She is dumbstruck. “What does that mean? We just met!” She asks completely surprised at his statement.

He: “Ha ha… I mean every time I am out on a date, the girl falls for me, you know. Now, I don’t want to hurt you too.” He leans back on the lounge sofa feeling completely relaxed that he has cleared the air.

“Oh”, she thinks to herself. “Really?” and asks out loud.

“Ah! I will tell you the stories someday, but first let me order another drink”

Another 4 drinks (for him) later, he suddenly leans towards her, sticks out his tongue and tries to kiss. Shocked, she screams! “What are you doing?”

“I think I am in love with you.” grins and falls on her smelling watered down whisky.

She squeezes out, somehow, and runs for her life.

First Date Stories: 1

He: "Hey! At last we meet"

She: "At last"
He: "You really want to sit at the bar?"
She: "Why?"
He: "We can sit at the lounge area. More comfy."
She: "Ok"

Moving to the other side:
He: "You know I was thinking, you should change your glasses."
She: "Hmm... Can we order something to drink?"
He: "oh sure sure"

Beer ordered. Cheers done. One gulp down.

He: "So you drink beer huh?"
She: "Sometimes."
He: "You know what they say in US? If the lady you are with is drinking single malt, you don't have to worry. She will take you home. Ha Ha" laughs at his 'joke'.
She: "This is India."

15 min later.

She: "So what's your story?"
He: "The usual. Work office. I just came back from the US, you know. Oh Man! I love that country. Its the greatest country in the world. And the chicks! I have dated blondes n red heads, Blacks, Hispanic n Latinos! Man they are hot! Gosh I miss America!" He day / night dreams....

She: "Can we get the bill please?"
He: "You mean check? Ok. Then I drop you home."
She: "Thank you. But my brother is coming to pick me up."

Uber booked. Pick up time 2 mins.

The Man Who Knew Infinity - S.Ramanujan

Just watched The Man Who Knew Infinity ... A genius like him died at the age of 32. What all he could have achieved if he lived longer. What the world would have gained if he didn't die so soon. Perhaps the Black Holes would have a different understanding.

He was a great Mathematician, perhaps the greatest since Newton (as Littlewood describes). But would he have lived a little longer (at least), if he had changed his food habit and taken care of his health in the usually cold and rainy Cambridge; which is so much different from a very hot and sunny Kumbakonam.

People of cold countries eat meat for a reason. The food needs to keep them warm as well as make them full. While rice and sambar is a perfect food for hot and sultry South India, its just useless, and perhaps, harmful in the cold of Europe.

Was his food more important than being alive? Is that what dogma and superstition do to us? He was a very religious man and I wish that his religion was a little more flexible; and put more value on people's life than on some traditions and rituals which may not hold good in different circumstances.

But, is it religion which can be blamed or the people who misinterpret them without perspective?

‪#‎Justmythought‬

The Pathankot Attack and Us

7 Defense personnel die trying to fish out 6 terrorists.
I am no expert, but it sounds incredible!

Why the life of our soldiers so cheap? Why are we not better equipped to handle such situations, particularly when the aerial surveillance at the base spotted the terrorists as they entered the compound? I am not even making comparisons with the US or the Brits. Not even saying how an elite group of soldiers flew to another country (another air space), reached their most hated enemy and neutralized him in a matter a few hours without a scratch. If this is what 6 terrorists can do, what happens when an army attacks? Have we not upgrade ourselves to the latest technologies available?

I could be entirely wrong, but the families who are left devastated in the beginning of a new year shall never be mended again. We may hail them as martyrs (and forget about them the next moment), post their pictures in our FB (and change our profile pic to Indian flag) and send our salutes - but for the grieving families it doesn't sum up to anything. The armed forces and their families need more than this.

As someone said, you don't win a battle by dying, but by living and killing the enemy - and this is our eternal enemy, should we not be better prepared?

I am actually furious! What the bloody hell!

Picture from Indian Express

‪#‎PATHANKOT‬ ‪#‎IndianArmy‬ #PathankotAttack 

Media, Politics and Stupid Indians

I am seeing this forward from WhatsApp (as someone claimed) and / or somewhere else where personal lives of people (read people in media) are being discussed and being put under microscope to prove that these media people are acting with the Congress to prove India is no more secular and has turned communal.

I have just two things to say here:

1. When did the ruling party and its allied organizations become scared of media? I know they are using media (digital and conventional, to earn their 15 mins regularly).

2. If I was not disgusted earlier with whatever is happening, I am really disgusted at thinking what kind of people do such personal attacks on others? I know, 99% of our political office bearers, their chamchaas and their ass lickers are uneducated, crude, and gross, and I also understand in politics, people go to any extent to mud and shit throwing; but I am appalled at the so called educated, intelligent, cream of the society / region / nation who not only read such absolutely disgusting things but also forward them in their own profile here in FB (and otherwise) or simply copy paste them as their own post / thought!

Why can't we debate on a subject, a topic, an idea or a thought and not get personal? Why we, as a nation, has still not learnt to debate on a topic without personal attacks? Why are we not respectful to others' opinions and have to always demonstrate disrespect the moment someone says something that we do not believe in?

We can't expect that from our political parties and their chairholders. But, we as individuals, as rational and educated being, have to do that. After all, what is the value of our degrees, if we don't know how to properly disagree with what we don't agree. Why we are so uncouth? Why are we so irrational? Why are we so resentful of people who are not like us?

Where are the people who can think originally without being brainwashed by others?

I am not just pissed, I am scared. If we don't have original thinkers in our country any more, we are doomed. For good. We shall never be the country we thought we were and aspire it would be one day again.

Random Thought...

Every city has a smell. Even memories have smell too. Sometimes a smell triggers a strong memory- something long forgotten in the past. Kolkata smells of my childhood, Delhi reminds me of a battered life. Chennai has a hot n humid smell of togetherness and separation. Hyderabad smells empty. Pune has a confused smell. Bangalore has the smell of 4 seasons in one day. We are made of memories. Memories are made of us. And mostly they smell pure and passionate.

Learning Life - in bits and pieces

"Picking up experiences every day, some in amusement, some in wonder and some in utter bewilderment. One thing that I have learnt over the years, is never to question such experiences or put them in comparison with others. That has saved my life from becoming cynical, judgemental or skeptical.

It's good to see old matured people becoming child at times - their unabashed laughter killing the last bit of their awe inspiring personality for the moment. Its heartening to see ordinary people becoming extraordinary when they unknowingly become someone's saving angel. Its amusing to see people unable to break their insecurity and behave in petty, selfish manner.

It's been fascinating so far, and I am hungry to learn.
I may live alone, but I can never be lonely.
Loving life doesn't come easy, particularly in a time when we live; but I am lucky that life chose me to love her. I am blessed."

Restless Me

Restless I am

And that's what you have done to me

Since the time I looked through your eyes

And felt the weakness in my knees.

There was a little touch of our fingers

when our hands brushed by

a wave in my heart

and a drop of a sigh.

To see you I have to wait

The longest I ever did

days seem never to end

and night planting seed -

               of my dreams in the future

               that lies in your hand

               I am ready to plunge again

               In the eternal world of love.

Do we have right to celebrate Swami Vivekanda's 150th Birthday?

Every one seems to want to catch the glory of celebrating 150th Birthday of Swami Vivekananda today; I just hope and wish all these people truly understood what he did and what he wanted us to do. The BJP has made Swamiji their poster-boy, an audacity which perplexes me and I am hoping it brings the same emotion to a few other people too.

I am seeing full page ads in TOI (pretty expensive ones, I must say) by people / organizations / netas who are competing to prove their allegiance to the notion of nation that Swamiji dreamt off, however they seem to reek with religious undertones.

For a whole mass of Indians for whom religion and spirituality are one and same, and for those who don't know that Swamiji considered nation building as the most important responsibility of the youth of our country and not wasting time in useless religious practices - his 150th Birthday celebration with such fan fare looks like a big empty vessel which only makes lot of obscene noises...

Rape in India - an old story in and out of our houses

Girl / woman of no age is spared. A 40 year old man sexually abuses a 6 year old girl everyday in Bangalore; A group of drunken men in their posh car, rapes a women in Kolkata, a bus driver and his friends rape a girl in a bus one by one and then inserts a rod in her vagina, then ultimately throwing her out of the bus.
was that 6 year old girl inappropriately dressed? drunk? coming out of late night party? asked for sex? 6 year old girls are just 1 graders - they are not even "sexually" formed!

And are these just 3 random cases? No way, a statistics show that since 1971, percentage of rape has gone up by some 870%!

Derek O'Brien says "it's not a woman's problem; it is the man's problem" And I can't agree more.
But what is it that is so so horribly wrong with men? (no generalization here, though)
I am one of those lucky few, whose father didn't behead us because we fell for men outside our communities; neither did my brother shoot me and my lover in the head. Or, for that matter, my husband didn't burn me alive for more dowry.

But the shocking realization is that we, the women, are not safe even with our male family members! the father, the brother, or the husband - who are "supposed" to keep us safe.
Are we not the "thing" or "property" that gets handed over by our fathers through "kanya dan" to our husbands. Our fathers can "give us away", because they possess us. And then our husbands "use" those possessions as they wish to.

So, what are we at the end of the day or end of our life?

An object which can be used, misused, abused, treated, punished, revenged upon by another human species?
And a subject which can be discussed, maligned, raised fingered upon, given guidelines to live and behave, and changed ?

At our homes, we know, in the heart of our hearts, we are not equal, we are a dozen notches below them, we are to serve, to sacrifice and not to complain or demand, else we are labelled trouble-makers, rebels, or witches.

And that's how we are growing up in our homes for thousands of years of our "civilized" history. That's how the other "human" species are growing up too. In a household, a wife is supposed to please her husband irrespective of what, and the husband in turn can treat her as he pleases and when he pleases so.

Then, how can her son be taught how to treat another woman? He grows up with the feeling, idea, believe and faith that it is ok to "do" whatever he can with a woman - his sister, daughter, wife or someone else's.

And that's what that is wrong with them.
And that's why they can insert a rod in a woman's vagina after raping her.
That's why they can rape 6 year olds.
That's why they issue fatwa to gang rape a women from another community.
That's why they can behead their daughters to keep their honour.
That's why they can complain that they woman was not properly dressed.
That's why all gaalis / abuses in any language has only mothers or sisters to be fucked.

Of course, they are the Men - they are supposed to keep their zips open, and penis erect  and ready to dispense semen from the never ending source. And of course they need a woman to do that - whether she wants it or not, whether she is at home or on the bus; whether she is just a baby or an old wrinkled woman.
After all, they rule the world, they create the rule books and they keep the women in pardah to make sure their libidos are in check (if that was ever possible).

I am not sorry if my male friends, acquaintances, colleagues and sundry other men here feel offended;  simply because I know that while a whole lot of you are not like these men described above but there are still quite a few  who wouldn't mind trying their "hand" if the situation comes. So, sorry - No Apologies.

What's happening in West Bengal??!

Something very funny happening in West Bengal. I never seen such amount of negative publicity about the state's CM, and everyone seems to be "very" unhappy. Hmmn... were these people very happy with the previous 34 years of rule by another party? if yes, why did they change it? why were they complaining about all the bad n wrong things that that govt did for the state; how that long 34 years of rule has destroyed economy, biz, infrastructure, education, medical care, people's attitude to work, etc.

I think the issue is different. All these people (I dont stay in WB, hence didnt vote) had GREAT Expectations from the new government. The expectation from a single woman who will use her magic wand and erase everything bad or not so good in matter of days... opps.. minutes may be. And that single woman, who used her charm and eccentricity to dislodge the old government of many years, decided to put herself on a Head Mistress role, rather than being a Crusader who was expected to find rots and wash it away with a broom.

However, it's still less than a year since things have changed. I could imagine people going berserk with a new found freedom and enthusiasm after 3 n half decade of dreamless state of things. But time is running out. For everyone. In the age of instate messaging and noodles, people want instant results; they don't want to know that you have started with nothing but an accumulation of all bad things in the state. Where is your wand, dear CM? We don't need your ruler? We are all grown up and matured people of this world, and so called intellectuals. The famous Bengali Intellectuals - who could sat silently for 34 years doing absolutely nothing but now on our foot to wage a war. It's scary, at least for me. Can't imagine what would happen if the old power comes back to rule. Will they punish the people of West Bengal from straying away from them? for betraying them by electing others? well, we have such incidents before. Time is running away for the new CM as well as for the people of WB.

No, I am not a didi fan. I am an outsider to the state who is looking at the circus going on here and wondering "what the hell !" Who could put some sense to the people and their very elected government? Our existence is at stake!!

What's the Problem?

I am not scared of disappointments anymore; but maybe I am scared of good things happening in life. I end up resisting good things coming to me and then I end up pushing them back even if I had got some of them by mistake.

It’s not that I am being negative; but its simply that I am striving to move towards a phase where I will be rid of all expectations. In Hindu philosophy, this could be what sages described as ‘Nirvana’, but for me, this is simple survival tactics.

I stopped believing in miracles. Some of you may say that being born and living in this world is miracle by itself. But I don’t actually subscribe to that thought. I was born because of my parents, and I wouldn’t have been me, if they were not my parents; or if they had chosen not to have me.

So, when it’s a matter of chance, there is no scope for miracles.

A friend of mine told me that my problems lie within. Perhaps he is true. I might be carrying my problems. As a rational human being I have tried to understand the biology and the psychology of human beings and how their thinking pattern evolves over the period of time. And going by that, I disagree with my friend. No, the problem is NOT within me. But, I am within the problem. I am not trying to get rid of my responsibilities; rather I am looking forward to my responsibility of fixing where I am – the problem, I mean.

From a more emotional and personal point of view, I don’t really see any problem. That’s a good thing and a bad thing. I am only trying to believe that people are different with different thinking habits, patterns, capabilities which are more influenced by culture, upbringing, education, open mindedness, adaptability, etc - and the smart thing to do is to accept and understand these differences among people around us. And if that is possible, then we will not tell someone else, what is his/her problem and where it lies. We can, however, most certainly, try to help them solve their problem if we are asked to do so. But until then, it’s wise to be managing our own problems and fixing them for good.

been ages... I miss being me...

My Birthday

Hmmn… whenever I get near to my birthday, I start feeling very edgy. I get a feeling that I need to run away somewhere, or hide myself in a corner, and wish no one remembers this date.
I know my parents n my bro will remember it, and so will a very few but close people – but can’t they forget it somehow!!

I don’t know why I hate my birthdays so much, may be because I grew up knowing that it was a big mistake that I was born after all. Everyone has stories in their life, so do I. So what? I don’t need to romanticize that now; at this age!

But may be I never really understood who I am… Am I the grown up, big girl who wants so desperately to get back her childhood? Or, am I someone who is already tired of the iron mask on her face put on to fit into the civilized world? Am I the daughter, or the sister? The business woman? Or the wanna be writer who writes random thoughts and calls them poem? Am I the person who shifted 6 cities in 10 years ? or am I the one who wants to build a small home in a small village on the snow-clad hills? Am I the one who crave for love? Or am I the one who ignores love as a useless accessory?

Who am I? Who is Bhumi Suta? Is she for real? Or she is just an alter ego of someone else?

Hell! No! I am sounding confused, man! How can I sound so lost? Am not the brave woman of today who can face all challenges in life and not ask for any help? Then? I will again cut my birthday cake, blow off the candle , party all night and say “Thank You” to whoever wishes me well… what the hell! Am I becoming the person I am wearing the mask of???

Just call it quit!

Memoirs of my Bangladesh trip is yet to be shared; while my mind is full of stories and happy and delightful experiences from there, I am just too occupied to gather myself together for the time required to pen down those thoughts. Not good!

However, there is something that has suddenly forced me to take up my pen, sorry the key board, and use them for my very personal purpose.

How do we feel when we lose something dear to our heart? Painful will be too mild a word to even begin to describe our feelings. And when we lose something in spite of our best intention of keeping them with us or making ourselves available around these things - it might end up giving us a sense of shock or disbelieve.

Take for example friends. Sometimes we end up giving so much to a friend and then suddenly one fine day, we realize that our relationship was too fragile to last even a commotion in our noisy, day 2 day life. It gets us wonder whether it was friendship in the first place! Friends are supposed to be there irrespective of what or how we are and how vigorously we might fight over some non issue!

Or, maybe there are selfish motives behind this sudden fragility of the relation – it now requires the relation to be over.At least for me, it makes me suspicious of myself - of my capabilities to be a friend, to hold on to a relation, or to my inabilities to understand the basic human character.

Can we love someone so much that we end up hating them? Is the reverse possible? Can we just not care about something at all and then end up loathing them like hell as well? Why everything has to be so negative? Why everything tends to end with a failure.

Yes, there is always a cause-and-effect relationship for everything, but then who decides what’s the cause and if that’s the justified effect?

Someone very dear to me is causing me hurt, he made me shed tears and feel helpless. I was very sad when it first happened. Then I grew confused. Now I am quite sure why he is doing this.

Dear friend, you just had to tell me “Shut up! And Go!”. There were no needs for this long foreplay to push me away!

But, anyway, whatever …

Home Sweet Home!

I reached Bangalore on thursday morning, and when i opened my laptop to check my emails, I had a message from reliance telecom in my replicator, it said - "welcome home!" Yes! thats exactly the feeling i got when I stepped down from the bus this cool thursday morning. For the next couple of days I walked around the places I used to frequent while staying here, caught up with some friends, went to the familiar bar lounge, did some road-side shopping at the Brigade Road...

Yesterday, I was supposed to go out for dinner with an old friend of mine, but it got cancelled at the last moment. So, instead, I took a stroll along the 12th Main toward the CMH Road side. And then I got back the same feeling that most often than not I used to get in such similar lonely afternoon when I had no one to meet, see, talk or just walk with... for the last 10 years... in Pune, Chennai, Bangalore, and in Delhi; the feeling of not belonging to anyone or anything, a feeling of not being able to touch those seemingly dormant feelings lying scattered somewhere around your heart. I was alone, lonely and I was sad.

I have now moved to Kolkata, to my home, to my roots. Its hot and humid there, its too many people on road, its too chaotic, and still alone, but what the hell! I am no more lonely; and I am no more sad. Thats my home, sweet, home.

I get a feeling that I needed this fall back cushion before I leap on to my next adventure and a new destination.

Jai Ho!

My love story

You know,

I fell in love with you the first time I saw you,
The first time you walked up to me and handed over your thoughts
The first time you smiled and borrowed my painting brush
The first time you sat on the floor and looked at me and smiled
The first time you called my name and shook my hand
The first time you poured me a glass of water and shared your lunch
The first time you fought with me and swore never to turn back
The first time you kissed your girlfriend and thought of me in your mind…

I remember,

The first time you touched my lips with your fingers
The first time you kissed my forehead
The first time you bought me the daisies
The first time you hold my hand

And,

The first time I knew what you meant
The first time I saw a dream
The first time I smiled when I cried
The first time you made me live.

Then,

The first time you walked away from me
The first time you hurt my soul
The first time you made me cry
The first time you left me all alone

The first time you laughed when I was blue
The first time you cared less when I was sick
The first time you shut your doors on me.
And the first time you made me think…

Each time I skipped a beat in my heart
And lost my words to say…
Though you will remain in my heart forever
The time has drifted away.
The first time since we met…