Last Day

The last day of the year means that there is a lot of wrapping up to do. Old worries, old fears, old habits, all to be let go of like the old year.

We do this exercise every year. Promises and resolutions that lend us the strength to watch another year unfold with all its uncertainty. You get that last minute rush of courage as you chug down another shot. A new year beckons new hopes. And really, that is what sees us though year after year.

The last day of the year already has Google counting down the hours in the latest doodle.

Here is what I have in mind, to be a better person next year:

- Listen more

- Dream more

- Give more

- Laugh more

- Destress

- Make more music

- Be driven, yet content

- Be focused, but also flexible

- Travel to at least one new country, alone if need be

- Tone down on pettiness

There's a lot more that I need to work on, but I'll take it bit by bit.

Here's hoping that 2016 brings more love, less violence and great moments!

Happy New Year!

Solidarité

Why is the world burning?
The stream of bullets ringing louder
Than any music that unites;
Leave bloodshed at the door
That separates humans from demons,
For the same blood flows from one vein to another
Enlivening one soul to the next.

Why does the world forget?
The road to a better place
Is sealed the moment you harm another,
Faith in metal answers can only condemn
When it is the same thought uttered in different tongues
The same hope reflected in different coloured eyes;
Skin-deep differences keep us vexed.

The world and its people will go on
For every demon that rises and falls,
Standing in solidarity
Speaking the language of compassion,
Of tolerance and love;
For every bullet, a door will open
And leave closed minds forever perplexed.

~*~

RIP. #PrayforParis

Homecoming

The last week has rushed by much faster than I'd have liked. Anyone whose heart is stretched across lives and cities will often wish for the power to speed up and slow down time.

It's been well over a year, but goodbyes are just as hard as they were before. My way of dealing is to ignore them till the last minute. The dam bursts when the physical reality of it comes crashing down.

It's hard to leave home behind. The most curious thing is that whenever I return, it takes me a really long time to start thinking of it as my home again. It's just when I have to leave that I want to turn back the clock and relive everything again.

I'm not looking forward to tomorrow. The incessant rain, which has basically been the nearby cyclone casting feelers, made it impossible to venture out. A part of me wonders whether the predicted deluge could lead to my flight back getting cancelled. I know my mum will be upset that I'll go away again, and not mention it even once. I'm sure that dad will once again go over a bunch of things that he thinks I'll forget at the last minute, his way of being helpful. Bro will probably actually stop his video game for a whole minute to say goodbye, and maybe give me a hug too. Right now, though, as the seconds itch towards tomorrow, I wish that time would stop for a bit, and give me at least one more night at home.

Live And Let Die

Our fears motivate our actions as much as our hopes do. Far too much time goes by worrying about what others think and how they will react. I've usually not cared too much, which gets me regarded as an aloof person. I've found, of late that much of the irrational behaviour that I've encountered recently has its roots in the insecurities that people have.

The fear of 'losing face' is so strong in some that everything else gets forgotten. When I break the behaviour down into this, all I feel is pity of sorts. There's so much more to life than wasting one's time on things beyond one's control. So much to discover, with even your next breath not something that can be taken for granted. Life's true pleasures don't lie in what people say to your face.

I'm sure everyone has his or her own set of parameters that define what makes life worth living. For me it's always come back to being able to create art of some sort, be it in the form of photographs, music or even songs sung in the middle of the night. That, and the people I care deeply about. I've thought much about it, and realized that I don't really need other people to feel fulfilled. The loved ones who are there in my life are cherished more because I care for and want them, not because I need them. The recent solo trip helped me realise how quickly you adapt and become completely self-reliant.

So coming back to the topic, it is troubling that insecurities play such a major part in actions. Overcompensating becomes a way of life, even at the cost of ethical compromise. I'm not sure if I could live with myself if I ever got to that stage. But you never know when life makes you experience things you never thought you would. I hope it never comes to that, and that I have the courage to confront my fears instead of letting them define who I am.

For the moment, the best thing I can say to myself is, "live and let die".

Perspective

Perspective is a very good thing, a much needed thing. As much as "it's not the victory but the fight", my old House motto, on some days I would much prefer the victory.

The thing about perspective is that it let's you wrap your head around the fact that the world won't end because that thing you wanted didn't happen. There will be more disappointments. There will be more causes for upset. Life will go on and life will not care. But it doesn't mean that you won't. You probably will, more than you should.

So what makes the difference? What let's you go on in spite of it, to chase after the thrill of the battle rather than the glory of its completion? Hope? Probably not.

I suppose it's how we're built. Our minds work the way cockroaches' bodies do - an indomitable stronghold of persistence and perseverance that is in complete disregard of the mushroom clouds of despair hanging about. You feel, you reflect, and then you move on... and move ahead.

I'll find a way, I'll survive. And most of all, I'll live.

Meetings and Partings

We meet and we part
Then we part and we meet,
Our distance numbing much of the heart.

Frozen tears get thawed by smiles that greet
When we meet, then part
Only to part and meet.

Keep the Blues Away

If you could have a heart for every summer you survive
Where sunny days seep into your smiles
They'll keep the blues away, oh oh
Those extra hearts of yours...

If you could sing a song every time you swore
You'll live the rest of your life alone
They'll keep the blues away, oh yeah
Those merry songs of yours...

Sing me a lullaby, as my eyes fall shy of sleep
Sing for tomorrows when we will not have to weep
Love me with your kisses, touch me with your dreams
Let's seek out the rainbows hidden among streams

Let's keep the blues away, dear
For tomorrow we'll be strong
Let's keep the blues away, now
And live without a fear
Of life tying us down with
Practicality most morose
Let's keep the blues away, love
With poetry and prose.

Heal

I cry fearlessly
Softly, surely
Tonight, I'll let the sorrows slide
Down the well of forgetfulness;

Music takes the pain away
Melancholy made whole with melody
My world enlivened again
By notes wistful for tomorrow.

On Goodbyes

Life moves from one good
bye to another; time spent
in between is bliss.

Who Knows

Some nights you just have to let the despair overcome you and cry into your pillow till it's dawn again.

There's probably no other way. The sadness has taken root and doesn't want me to do anything about it. I don't want solutions tonight. Just wish I wasn't so numb, so cold and disconnected that it's a Herculean ask to even talk to someone. About anything. I feel like shutting myself away from everything. Everyone.

It happens, I suppose, if your sounding board of many years and your avenue of venting is suddenly no longer an option. It was a long time coming, I suppose. It would have been too much. I'm crap at communication anyway.

Boring. Such an innocuous little word. Such a hurtful word... One that takes you spiraling down into the rabbit hole of half a glass of empty even weeks after it was last uttered. I don't know if I'll ever be convinced otherwise again. Complacency is such a rude thing, and so very sad and hurtful when you're on the receiving end of it.

Time and distance. Speed. Light and sound. Do they really go hand in hand? Is there even a point to putting yourself through the pain of life only to die alone someday?

I feel alone. And it is something that really bothers me now. It feels wretched that at the end of the day, if anything were to go wrong, there really wouldn't be anyone around to lend support. I guess my lot in life is to be my own source of strength. No faith. No one. Just me. Give and receive only space, and there's nothing left but distance.

Begin Again

Some days, while going through the motions of daily routine, you chance upon a special ray of life, almost on a whim. It can be through music, it can even be through a story, and when it happens through both, it is magical.

I'm no stranger to being moved by movies. Begin Again was one such. Delightful not just in its simplicity, the story slowly draws smile after smile out of you. From the beautifully placed narrative to the songs that find a cozy place to curl up within your heart... I've been humming Lost Stars all evening, and just can't get enough of how much hope there is to be found, even in despair. It makes one realize that life doesn't have to be perfect to be able to enjoy it.

If you haven't watched the movie, do watch it, and:

"Let's get drunk on our tears."

Sunshine In Seconds

I've become so shallow now, always looking for the quick fix, the easy high. I've no patience any more, at least less than I ever did before. It's remarkably easy to sink into a single dimensional soul: just immerse yourself into your work and forget about anything else that you ever loved.

I don't know why I have such a self-destructive streak, because of which I deliberately deny myself what I enjoy. Why is it so difficult to just loosen up and enjoy life the way it happens? Soak it in... No worries, no contemplating the future or how to work towards a better bank balance.

I'm actually rather disgusted with myself, at the inner whining, even though I am not talking that much about it out loud. At least the 'don't give a flying fuck' attitude ensures that some of the shite stays at bay. Whatever.

Coming back to my shallowness. I've come to the point when I just want 5 minute fixes. Exhausted at the end of the day, I've no time to sit and finish a good book at one go the way I love to devour books. Instead, I choose to read fast reading material: in other words, crap. A bit of YouTube-enabled karaoke when I'm in the mood, but no time to practice the piano and actually hone a talent that must by now be gone. Why, I ask? Exhaustion? Laziness? Depression-induced inertia? I don't think it is the last one. If anything, at least that aspect of my life has been borderline, and on the better side. Been there, battled that, now it's so much better! But the bad habits stay, I suppose. And like everyone else part of the sunshine-in-seconds generation, I want the quick fix, the easy high, even if it kills any depth that I used to have.

Goodnight.

Memories Of Winter

Winter always makes me want to curl up with a short story and watch the sun take its leave for the day. More than five years ago, I spent many a winter afternoon climbing up the water tank on our building terrace and spend a good hour or so in the company of Chekov or Maupassant, watching the day blend into night. Staring at the vastness all around, for ours was one of the highest buildings in the neighborhood, and wondering at the vastness of thought in the pages that I beheld, it was a wonderful way to let the hours flow by.

I wonder sometimes if now, in spite of being freer than I have ever been in many ways, I am more limited in my thoughts and actions than I was not so long a time ago, at a terrace far away... I've never been to the terrace of the building where I now live. And for someone who would explore every inch of a place and figure out how to find her way in a new area, I haven't really explored much of the city where I now live. True, that public transportation is not as good as what it was in my home city, but I probably should have found a way.

Still, enough of that. Winter has always been my favorite time of year. Never mind the runny noses, or the sheer torture that is washing long hair early in the morning. Winter is when life takes a step back from the lively rush of summer, and seeks solace within itself. Winter is for falling in love with the chilly breeze that paints your cheeks pink. Winter is for lovers to seek warmth in each other. Winter is for coming back home, or else yearning most terribly for it.

And home is where the heart is. My heart just needs to find a home that is close by.