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There is no circle

‘Being an artist means forever healing your own wounds and at the same time, endlessly exposing them.’ - Annette Messager.

There is no circle. Karma is something that we have been fed with for a long time now, and boy, does it feel good to think that those that have wronged us will get a rod shoved up their ass figuratively or literally. But it’s high time people started accepting that the concept is one of convenience. Mostly, life leaves you hanging by. A lot of people walk in and out at their will; some wounds are left gaping open. You just learn and gather your shit together to move on, because maybe time can numb it all down one day. One day when you finally accept that some closures never happen. And you just have to deal with it.

There is no right or wrong, but only perceptions. What is absolutely okay by me might seem completely atrocious to you, but I am sorry, we will have to just deal with things the way they are.  Nobody made either of us God, and if either of us thinks so, the one that does will only end up destroying the other. Live your life by your choices and ideas. I deserve to live by mine. And if this doesn’t sit good by you, let’s shake hands and go our separate ways right here.

There is no circle. Most of the people who seem to mean a lot to you right now might not be even in the periphery of your life five years down the lane, inclusive of those who drift away, those with whom rifts are created, and those who just develop a whole new life around them because such a situation arose.  No, it is not that you can treat people like shit, but understand that whatever you do, or might decide to do, you owe it more to yourself than those around you. Satisfying people has been registered in our heads as a noble deed, but growing up ought to teach that it was an overrated feeling. We owe our heads some peace before we owe anyone else anything.

There is no back button. For the better or the worse, if you made a step in either of those directions, just own up to it. Make conscious choices and decisions, for your sake more than anyone else’s. If it feels that doing something will make you happy, go right ahead and do it. You are not explainable to anyone but the voices in your head. If you are, they will eventually get to understanding; and if they disagree, read the previous sentence, because. But there really is no back button. You could try if you will, but it is and will remain to be a mangled reflection of what it used to be before you raised your doubts about it – might as well man up and accept it for what it is right now.

There is no circle. If age and wisdom had anything to with each other on a linear graph, one would know that the only way to go is that which the heart is yearning for, that which it is screaming at the self inside right now. If you let it subside for reasons that are labeled acceptable, responsible or deemed required, let this sink deep within: this scenario unraveling inside the head right this very moment, the wholeness it is sure to bring about, the meaning it is rendering to the broken mess – this is what is being given up on, irreversibly. None of us get any younger with every passing day. We all die eventually. The insides need to be in peace before the same can be offered to any other being.

There is no ‘good silence.’ Not to be confused with the subtle art of listening or the beautiful blessing that lets people connect on a different level. When something nags your head, speak the fuck up. Keeping the silence being too afraid to hurt someone talking, fearing the prospect of being judged, absolutely dreading rejection – really, not worth it.  You will go down with a million ‘what if’s plaguing your head. If it does screw up after speaking up, peace is granted to you at least in the knowledge that you did try.

There is no circle. It is pointless to beat oneself up thinking that whatever bad times that are tormenting you at the moment is because some bad Karma was accumulated in a time period that probably seems vague even to the memory. We are all only various combinations of fuck ups. Some of us are of the higher degree. Some fuck ups of others we can put up with, some we find unable to. Accept those that you can, let go of those that are difficult. And most of all, embrace all your fuck ups. If you’ve done it, own up to it, and let it be. That does not have to imply anything, know why? There. is. no. fucking. circle.

‘You will be shocked when you discover how easy it is in life to part ways with people forever. That’s why when you find someone you wanna keep around, you do something about it.’ - Ted Mosby, How I met your mother.

Peace out.

Musing

Pictures of her standing in the middle of my room, hands on her hips, continue to drain the empty spaces of my dreams. Knowing as she always does, better than I, where I’d left my keys, my wallet, my spectacles, the mosquito bat. With a bottle of water in one hand, she’d pull a chair, and legs stretched, watch me work, while I, her legs.

That is her, waiting at the bill counter at the supermarket, trying to verify in her head if she had borrowed the right number to get the subtraction right. Simple math, I’d snigger. She will pretend she convinced me that she was ignoring me. I will let her assume she won.

She scares me with the amount of detailing she structures me with in her eye - the subtle nuances in my gestures, tones and very presence that she had so carefully, so fervently memorized over the years she stayed silent.  The intensity knocks me off guard. And pretending to hold a deaf ear to it gets harder each time, it is almost infuriating.

Only when I wonder if it is time to throw her off the ground she was acclimatizing to, she holds her gaze with me for an instant too long, piercing me into every moment of co-existence she had breathed life into, without trying, without expecting. Nothing was ever on the platter, nothing had ever been.

For one, my t-shirt looked different on her, helping her flaunt her collarbone and everything. She had gotten into that frenzy last summer, when one by one, my favourite t-shirts went missing, one of each colour.

Last summer, when she sat in the garden and scalded her leg, pouring boiling hot tea, as she shamelessly gaped at the Vaseline on my lips, open-mouthed; no, I will not tell you what a man was doing with Vaseline.

The fool is, in all probability, writing something about me this very minute, I am sure. If only she would direct them at someone who can possibly reciprocate it all and reciprocate it well. And leave me alone and make me lie to her yet again that I do not miss her, that I do not miss yelling at her to wake up while I catch that extra fifteen minutes of sleep – sleep that was never that precious as those stolen peaceful minutes. Sleep, that she probably let go while ruffling my hair and secretly counting the number of grays, the knowledge of which she was sure to shove into my face when I least expected it.

She is now looking at something new, somewhere, and mentally making a note to describe it to me, telling herself that she would floor me with the idea. And I already know I will scoff it off, if only to see her rage in fury and call me names. She sucked at it as much as she did with the numbers.

I’ll be on my way now, thinking of her fake-punching me with all her might, with a messed up head that refuses to work when I get her anger up and simmering. I’ll be on my way home, where my clothes smell of her and where she belongs with me - she just can never know.

Trance

Much after the lights have been turned off, my eyes hover over the familiar contours of your body. The light from the distant streetlamp seeps through the gaps of the curtains, softly gracing the outlines of your face. Your right leg is sprawled all over me, the right hand comfortably resting on the curve of my slightly disoriented hip, cradling me close enough to trace the many desires of my heart masterfully sketched all across your face.

I observe how involuntarily my body attempts to sync itself to the rhythm and pattern of your breathing. My lips part about quarter of an inch with the faintest of a pop sound, trying to inhale whatever of you hung about in the air. The ultimate test comes in willing myself to not move, freeze, building that strong electricity around, feeding every passing cruel second.

My left hand moves as though on its own, one lone, scared finger inching its rebellious way towards your face, ready to break the trance and get quenched any moment.

In one swift, artistic movement, your right arm shoots into the air and rests my outstretched hand, gently pulling me into you by my waist. The kiss is barely a whiff of air, almost magically brushing past my lips. 'Sleep,' you murmur. On the rise and fall of the tune your body carelessly strummed, my imagination had found its home.

This is how much life is.

Grab a chocolate bar or a cup of hot coffee. Snuggle in your bed. Take a deep breath. Forget who you are. Forget what you have done till now. Now read.

Fall in love. Go mad. Fall out of it. Go madder. And fall in love again. Have your heart broken at least a couple of times. Lose hope. And see it renewed in the new person to whose magic your heart tugs you to sway to. Whether it is your neighbor, your school/college mate, a random stranger you’d met on the street, colleague, friend of a friend of a friend of a friend or even a friend you’d not had love interest in until that magical moment, just fall in love. Float in the air till it lasts. Love like you’ve loved none before.

Get laid. Know that losing your virginity is simply overrated and the pain might even seem pointless. And then get to know that there is much more to lovemaking than porn movies give away. Learn the sexiness in hugging and cuddling. Master the art of almost kissing. Get to know that nothing beats sleeping within breathing distance. Stay awake long enough to feel the rise and fall in breath. Hang on till the very puff of air gives you the tingling feeling. Resist touching. Let your senses rush. Now learn the magic that touching another’s skin holds. The pulsating feeling will rise until the actual act. Several times later, you’ll know that that is how far it gets; the rest is just a formality.

Travel. Move your bottom and slowly let yourself learn and soak in new cultures. Lose yourself in the history hidden in the roads and buildings there. Strike a conversation with a random stranger. Sleep on a blanket under the night sky. Huddle in a tent in the middle of nowhere. Alright. Somewhere. Take a boat ride. Hire a string quartet. Strike a carefree romantic encounter. Go on a trekking expedition you are not so sure you’d return alive from. Come back alive from the dead. Boast of completing at least three different daredevil adventure activities. Go skinny dipping. Know what it is to actually shiver and burn. Feel like you belong and shift bases again. Have at least a couple of movie moments in your life to reminisce about when your legs no longer give way.

Read. Rediscover yourself in paperbacks. Write a few if you can. Watch movies. Try making a few. Whether you succeed or fail, you find new ways to imagine. To think. To see. To live. To love. Click pictures. In or out of focus doesn’t matter as you will eventually realize. Even the blurred memories will keep you warm on that lonely, frosty day.

Make a friend or two. One of those types that’d be for the keeps. You could go chasing dimwits and this one’d still snigger and let you rant on about your ‘soul mate’ while patiently waiting for you to get your head knocked down and come scrambling home for a hug and a beer.

Forget the past. Forget the future. Forget ifs and buts and maybes and couldbes. Let go of whatever binds you, ties you down. Let go of fears and apprehensions. Let go of what you were, what you might be. The time is always now. What is real is just you, this feeling right inside your heart. Just shut everything else down and walk right ahead. At least you won’t have to regret losing an experience. There is no lifetime. Just a huge set of experiences.

If chance brings along a daughter or a son, be sure to pass your life as a fantasy to boldly embark on one day. 

This is honestly how much life is.

On deactivating a facebook profile

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So off late, I have been coming across this general tendency of people to label deactivating a facebook account as a ‘publicity stunt’ or a ‘girl thing.’ I beg to differ and this is my take on what could/might/will happen when you deactivate your facebook account.

You are going to be wonderfully surprised when you get to know who notices the absence of your profile first. As queries begin to flow, surprises will increase as you realize how many people had really bothered giving your profile a look at every day to notice that it is gone one fine day – they could be people who are genuinely interested in your life or what you think about certain aspects/things in life, or they could be expert stalkers. There is something quite personal in the way people text or call you up to inquire if you are fine. And there’s something very endearing in the way some make it a point to meet you in person and give you a hug before assuring you that it will all be okay and in all probability, they wouldn’t even be prying to know what exactly did happen.

You will think twice before automatically hitting the new tab short cut and typing ‘f...’ Logging in just for a peep would also mean reactivating the account and you’d remember you didn’t leave the place for no reason. You may migrate to twitter, gtalk, google+, but   everything and anything would make you feel like you have a much more personal conversation with the other person than just ‘liking’ pictures, stuff shared or posting on ‘walls.’  Facebook will flash the DPs of 5 people and say ‘These people are going to miss you’ as a final desperate attempt at playing with your emotions and making you stay and these 5 faces will somehow linger  in your mind for a long time to come.

You will be amazed by how less depressed and more at ease you feel by not knowing what goes in the lives of people around you. You will go back to visit your long-forgotten blog, web page or probably even end up renewing your gym or music classes to fit in to the huge amount of time you suddenly seem to have out of nowhere. You read more. You think more. The temptation to peek will take time dying down, especially when you know the password(s) of the facebook account(s) of your friend(s), but eventually, you will get around it.

You will probably go back to your phone and check out old text messages where someone had asked you to read or see something. You will finish checking out every webpage you had bookmarked. You might develop a whole new interest. Going for a walk and observing what people do apart from logging in to facebook every 10^th minute will genuinely interest you. Instead of sneaking a look at the profile at the traffic signal, you’ll relax and let a song play on on your mobile. It will be quite entertaining to see how some friends really try to persuade you or blackmail you into joining the network again irrespective of whether they put it directly or subtly. They’ll mail you, call you, take you out and sometimes annoy the hell out of you. But at more than one occasion, these instances are going to fill your heart and make you realize how very dear even the profile that seemed so empty to you had meant to these people.

And more importantly, you might also get to know how one or more people whose presence on the cyber world mattered a lot to you had never once realized that you were off the network in the first place. They might tell you that they had barely logged in, they only barely glanced at their news feed, they certainly didn’t look at messages or wall posts, but when the duration we are talking about exceeds a week and still you end up hearing the above said, you simply need to know where you stand in their lives.

I am not saying that facebook is the beginning and the end of life, but for people like me, it has indeed become an integral part of our connectivity. When time asks for it, when we need to maintain some long-distance contacts or stay to fit in to a new environment, sites like this are a true life-saver. Of course I do not support the idea of deactivating the account at the drop of a hat, every alternative day. I don’t really have much respect for people who keep running away from their profiles and think that that would help them run away from reality as well and hence is the end of the problem. But it might be true that at least temporarily, that might be the beginning of you seeing/seeking a solution. And yes, this is a personal opinion.

If you haven’t done it before, take a break – a week, month, several months or maybe even a year. Get back if you want to or give yourself more time to explore away elsewhere. Either way, chances are that you will be gently amazed looking at, soaking in and living in the events that follow and you will see the world around and the people on it in an altogether different perspective. On the other hand, if you are never going to be up for it, at least understand this: if a friend has gone ahead and done it, either be there to give a hug and a chocolate or politely stay away. It might be your turn tomorrow to feel blue and you’re not going to enjoy being poked fun at, trust me.

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Of high school crushes and all

courtesy: fuzzydave.deviantart.com

The following situation is just an example of what might arise when you are completely sleep deprived, wide awake past 12 in the night, texting and/or calling peoples who can make you see sanity but they decide to pretend to be busy and not reply and you lose your sense and do something extremely stupid. Well, in my case, it was a result of the above mentioned and the fact that a high school crush lasted like 5 years. The conversation should be understood to have happened between 3 (or more people). For general understanding, I’ll name them as follows: Usual-Self (or US) - the self who you will normally encounter when you talk with or meet me. Subconscious-Self (or SS) - the self within that talks sense into me in all sorts of situations, that valiantly argues against the US and is never afraid to lay forward blunt truths as arguments and also, sadly, loses to the US most of the time, its voice going unheard. DY (or DY only - cannot say name, go) is the forlorn high school crush that my heart so willingly harboured for the past 5 years – it deserves appreciation considering the fact that it never let go of this DY in spite of the fact that it found other souls it thought were worthy enough to invest love and emotions in. ‘How silly?’ are you thinking? Tell me about it. Keeping all this in mind and hopefully some pity for the wrecked soul that narrates this story, you may proceed to read further.

So I lie wide awake at about 12:30 in the night, exhausted from waiting for replies for the text messages I had sent to a couple of people who usually succeed in putting my drifting mind to ease. I resort to throwing tomatoes, rotten tomatoes and even broken flower pots I found on the terrace to this one fellow who I desperately wanted to talk to (read: Snowman) and he still maintains his silence extraordinaire. Now the mind starts playing silly games on me and the US temporarily convinces the SS that sending a text message to DY was a brilliant idea. Barely leaving any time for the SS to comprehend what was happening, the text message is sent.

Me (US): Hey, hi. Reply, no? (SS: Great conversation starter.)

DY: Who is this?

Me (US): Schoolmate of yours. Never really got to talking with you at school. Gathered courage (SS: Gathered WHAT? YOU’RE NOT TYPING THAT!) and wished you on your birthday.  You didn’t even reply. (SS: Seriously, why would he reply to a message from an unknown number?)

DY: My mobile wasn’t working properly that time… Who is this? (SS: *smirks* He’s just being nice.)

Me (US): XYZ. From XII Section X. (SS: What are you? Like 14?)

DY:  Oh… Hey wassup?

Me (US): Umm. Sky. Enamo no stars today. Sorry, eh. Hate that question. (SS:WHO ARE YOU KIDDING? How much does it take to talk normal to this guy? You’re talking for the first time!)

DY: Where are you now?

Me (US): Motta maadi (terrace). Home. Chennai.

DY: Nice... But I meant in general which college and stuff... (SS: God! What must the guy think of you now!)

Me (US): Oh. Sorry. Just finished my Blahblahblah at Blah College. Currently applying for Blahblahblahblahblahblah. (SS: And he’s recruiting you for a job.)

DY: Oh... finished graduation! Congrats

Me (US): Thanks. :) How’s life at the premier institute? Interning somewhere now?

DY: Yup... Interning at BLAH...

Me (US): Cool. No idea how I got the courage to text you again. (SS: There you go again!)

DY: Why does someone require courage to text me?

Me (US): Someone, I don’t know. I do. Not sure why though. :S Took me like what… 3 years to decide to ask someone for your number and actually text. (SS: Honest and all okay, but you’re freaking the guy out!)

DY: Oh where did you get my number from?

Me (US): Make a guess. Not very difficult.

DY: ABC?

Me (US): Haha. No. Snowman. And you know ABC? (SS: Why DID he guess that?)

DY: Yeah there's a guy in my hostel who is also in the team he told that ABC asked my number... That’s why...

Me (US): Mayor. Mental Mayor, is it?

DY: Yup... (SS: Now remember to throw a flowerpot at that guy the next time you see him at the insti!)

DY: So which college you applying? When? (SS: Thank God you didn’t have to dig for some explanation there.)

Me (US): Got selected at BLAHEST today. Waiting for my interview call from OkayPlace. AnotherOkayPlace also.

DY: Did you see this movie QASDFR?

Me (US): Not yet. Did you? Is it any good? (SS: Thank your stars now that the guy is actually trying to pull a convo out of this phail situation.)

DY: Am sitting in the theatre and bored like crazy... :( (SS: SUCH.A.BULB. Now you know why the guy is texting you.)

Me (US): Haha! And you’re texting me? Are you serious? :D (SS: Now go ahead and make the obvious explicit.)

DY: There is nothing good in the movie... Anyways why did you give me a chocolate on the last day and all that?

Me (US & SS): *heart skips several beats* (to self) He still remembers that?! *tears of joy*

Me (US): Lol. You’re finally asking this after 3 years. :P It was a dare. Was supposed to be. You calmly said ‘Thank you’ & left. Barely dare material. :P

DY: Lol... All I cared for then was the chocolate... :D

Me (US): Even when it came from a girl you’d never even said hi to? :P

DY: You said friends and offered the chocolate so I took it and said okay... I seriously thought you would try to speak some time later… (SS: You can go shoot yourself in the head & then hang yourself up. YOU did not remember that bit? The ‘friends?’ bit? And he all along expected you to speak up? DIE!)

Me (US): Damn. Back then, you were this intriguing guy dribbling a tennis ball & singing to himself in the corridor all the time. And a very brainy one at that. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if you knew me in the first place & I really didn’t think you’d remember. (SS: I can’t agree more.)

DY: Those were real nice times... I knew you of course... There were very few girls in school anyways... :P (SS: And you thought while reading the first half of the message that he was being nice.)

Me (US): Not entirely true. :P (SS: Yeah, right. Try and save your own grace.) I used to think you were mad in a nice way. :D

(after what seems like an eternity of silence) Err. Did I say something wrong?

DY: Lol... Was driving back home that’s why no reply... Not your fault if you thought I was mad

Me (US): Mad in a nice way only. (SS: *facepalm*) You’re at City1 or City2 now?

DY: Ciy1 in my friend’s house now...

Me (US): Ah. How’s the intern going?

DY: Intern not very awesome but is okay

Me (US): Nice. It just struck me. (SS: YEAH, RIGHT! :D) You did see me at the canteen the other day la? If you knew me, why not come over and say hi? (SS: God knows how long you’ve been dying to ask him this! :D)

DY: You were with someone right?

Me (US): Umm. Shd’ve been ABC or Snowman. I’m with either of them. Lol. That’s why?

DY: If it was Snowman I would have come... I don't know ABC at all... That's why...

Me (US): Ooh. Okay, okay. How come you’re up this late? Office iliya tomorrow?

DY: Tomorrow Saturday... We no work on weekends... :P

Me (US): That should make your intern awesome enough. :P

DY: But generally work is from 9 to 6:30 and its so far away... :( (SS: DO NOT IMAGINE A PUPPY DOG FACE and go ‘Aww’ at that smiley he just sent!)

Me (US): Aiyo. That is one taxing field, no? You’ve got <insert keyword> work ah?

DY: For one week I had... But they can't provide accommodation hence no more site work... :)

Me (US): Haha. Lucky you. So. What other interests apart from football and sport-crush-is-supposedly-good-at? (SS: Definitely 14. And now he knows you stalk him.)

DY: Nothing much... Used to play hockey too but now became too injury prone so even not playing much of football...

Me (US): Hmm. Heard from OneGuy that you guys used to have some sort of HP fan group or something at school… :) (SS: God, please let Snowman be wrong for once and PLEASE let this guy be a HP fan!)

DY: Not me... Me was never a big fan of Harry and also they did that in 11th and I was in Batch-something-else at that time... I still remember you singing ‘Vellai Pookkal’... That was the first time I ever heard that song... Would you believe? (after prolonged silence from my side) Slept?

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Yes. I did fall asleep and I’m sure you’d know how stupid I felt about myself when I woke up and found that this was the message I’d got when I had dozed off. Let’s say, both the US and the SS unanimously declared that I was stupid but also agreed that this guy sure did remember quite a bit about me and maybe I deserved a pat on the back. I should also mention that the SS promptly reminded me that DY had also mentioned about there being very few girls at school. US vehemently disapproved of this idea being the reason behind why DY did remember quite a bit about me. You do too, right? Now, if you also share an equally embarrassing episode in your life, you are welcome to share it and make the author feel good about herself or at least make her feel like she has company here. If you’re laughing reading this like my noble friend Snowman did after he heard but half the story on phone, you are welcome to shoo away because I am going to go dig a hole in the ground and bury my head in it. I hereby hold Snowman solely responsible for this disastrous night of my life and whatsoever the consequences it holds in the future. Now, GO.

P.s: Dearest, Snowman. After you’re done reading this and laughing your ass of all over again or even distributing printed pamphlets of this story to all the people you know and forcing me to think if I should probably dig a life-sized pit in the ground to bury myself alive, go be of some use in life, call up that guy and find out how much of a phail he thought this was.

(Somehow this little bit of innocence stuck through the growing-up years. Just this case where for once I saw myself fret and worry over talking to someone. There would’ve definitely been some point where I would’ve written about this. I just thought, ‘Why not now?’ DY was/is a nice guy. I hope we turn out to be good friends.)

I wish I knew what this is about.

I really do. Honest.

So this is how it feels when you are all fucked.

And I have a semester exam to prepare for.

Choices don't seem to be so easy. And decisions suck even more.

What really do you have going when you seem stuck at one point and the world seems to be rushing past you in a haze, in a hurry?

As much as ego as I may have, it does take more than just mere human humongous effort to just sit back, let it be and see what happens. What if I lose it all? But that is the point. What if I am the only one scared to have lost it all?

Do people ever get scared of losing me like… like I do?

What if I just died and the previous time was the last they ever saw or heard of me?

Will that conversation be enough… to qualify as a fitting farewell?

Or more seriously, I need to know if I deserve one.

Most of the times, I am so sure that certain concepts of ‘general’ life cannot figure in my books.

And no one has proven things otherwise, tried to, etc. I wave the subject off, laugh it off, shake it off, sleep it off and stuff. Until in those few instances I fall, fully aware that I must have to collect myself from tatters and rise from it on my own. When no one will understand, no one will really have the time or emotion to invest in you to know exactly how you feel, what you did go through. And most painfully and atrociously, no one will notice.

It is nothing less than a curse to be living in a city with the world's 2nd largest beach and having security issues to go there alone the time you want to. Even if time is excused, aloneis suicide – moral and otherwise, I hear.

Water and solitude can do that to me.

Make me pensive. Make me ponder. Wonder. Cry. Breathe. And forget, perhaps.

When was the last time you kept a promise?

Last time you broke one?

Met someone and genuinely gave them your time and heart and soul?

Or done any of these:

Shut your ego and came down to find out if someone is okay.

Let love take over anger and your side of the story.

Sat down to value what you have.

Speak out what you really feel.

Write. Cheer. Laugh with. Be with.

Sounds too sappy. But kills to be at the receiving end.

I'm only wishing I could make more sense of what is going through my mind now and that the tears would just shut themselves somewhere and stop portraying me as weak or way too frivolous. And I’m sorry for sounding so depressing. Kinda had to put it all out, you know. Got a semester exam to prepare for.

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- Just Someone.