I thought..

If Life is the biggest school I am enrolled with, I am obliged to do and redo the greatest piece of homework, every night. Things I learnt transform into new things altogether after I believe I have caught them neatly printed in my learning book.
For instance,

I thought life was a risky gamble. You play it safe; you win. But it turns out that the best way to live life is by experimenting with it.

I thought movie titles were a prelude to the movie. If movies were to be judged by their names, I would never have chosen to watch Monsters Inc.

I thought days in July seemed longer because of psychological reasons. Some kid’s book told me it’s because the earth is closest to the sun during the month.

I thought Punjabi food was the most overrated Indian cuisine, with the annoyingly extensive usage of ghee in chicken. I was bowled over when I saw plain strips of ham baked in honey, eaten lusciously as one of the best celebrated food in America.

I thought failure is what I feared the most until I was introduced to boredom.

I thought actor Arya did not deserve a hot seat in the Tamil films. I opted to change after Sarvam.

I thought if you didn’t have a Barbie doll in your childhood, it was a shame. The recent adulterated styles of Barbie furnished an aversion in me.

I thought to be cool, clothes made a great part. Now, clothes are great but to be real cool, try brains.

I thought Pink was a girl’s color. I refuse to change ; so those film makers who get their heroes wear pink suits, please, for the sake of basic way of life, be aware, pink IS STILL A GIRL’S COLOR!!

I thought Autumn was something to be experienced in the western countries. You should take a drive on the Coimbatore-Palakkad highway during August-September.

I thought time played a good chance to chill between farm duties. But it proved to be a rear-view mirror. Objects are closer than they appear.

I thought it was better to have a job that paid than to be friends with nothing. I say, it’s much better to make something out of nothing than a job that pays but sucks.

I thought fashion magazines were a cool heap of pictures to lose yourself into. Well, that was long ago. If you ask me now, there’s nothing worse to waste your time and money on than fashion magazines.

I thought I would never look for those old cassettes I used to love when I was a kid. When we stripped our house of the clutter, I fondly dusted them and put them back though I no longer owned a cassette player.

I thought the queen of England was an evil witch until I lately stumbled over some great writing about her life.

I thought Mathematics was a simple art of numbers which required only a basic knowledge of multiplication tables. I scored a 16 on 100 in class 9. I have hated Mathematics ever since.

I thought the Internet was the best medium to touch base with the world. A kid-neighbor took me by arm for a run on the grass and asked me, “ do you know the best thing to do ?” My silence replied for him and he went “to take your shoes off and run on the grass”. That meant something.

yeh dosti na ho to, kya phir bolo ye zindagi hai...

We were pretty edgy those days. But then anybody having to put up with an evil boss is doomed to negative mood fluctuations. That’s considered normal biological reaction. So to put out the fire that was burning in our eyes for weeks, we decided we would use the weekend to wash out . After about 100 suggestions and debates, we chose this serene beach that was in the suburb of the city. Nothing to complain, it came with a resort and Smith knew the place very well. Thumbs up, everyone. Friday evening. Happy weekends-Byes- Have Funs, exchanged. We were six in the gang. But Titto always gave a don’t-you-do-that-to-me look whenever we tried to woo him with a plan. No gimmicks could buy him. So that reduced us to five-Smith,Pinks,Lav,Meerkut and me. Considering having and not having Titto would literally mean the same, we were quite fine and decided not to push him. 6:00 PM; Smith was talking about when she would come to pick us all the next day. She was the chauffeur of this so called self-propelled vehicle. Commutation was never a question as long as Smith was there. So getting back to the plan, discussion hit heights on when we should leave and things to do and the like. Meerkut was lost in google images, as usual.

Lav had other plans but because we threatened him, he agreed he would come, though the flip side of his brain was seriously working on how to wriggle out. I am sure of this because he didn’t turn up the next day.

“Meerkut, 9:00 AM ok?”, I asked

She threw a look which seemed to say whatever, just get lost.

“Meerkut?”, Smith went

This time she put a face like she has committed some serious crime.

“God, Meerkut, did your program bomb?” Smith raised an eyebrow. She was in no mood to bid bye to her Friday evening and do some binge recovery.

“Nope, nothing actually”.

We let out a sigh of relief and continued our discussion.

“Actually, “, Meerkut started

Meerkut was called “The actually Meerkut”. You wouldn’t find any sentence that came out of her, with out this word actually.

We paused, when Meerkut says actually and stops, it’s not good news.

I clenched my fist,prepared to give a blow, if she were to say she was not joining us for the trip.
“Actually…”, Meerkut went for the second time.
Nobody said anything.

“My dad wants to see me sooooo much”. That sooooooo was long enough for my fist to tighten harder and my breath to wheeze faster.

“Would you mind if I just drop out?” And she put up a face like that cute puppy on that Pedigree ad.

Meerkut is basically beautiful but under such occassions, beautiful faces didn’t really count.

That’s it. I was going to say something real bad that she would never talk to me again.
Smith gave a pat on my arm, something that acts like aspirin for that gushing headache.

“How can you..” I started
Meerkut held onto the puppy face.

Smith did the talking. For a while, they were talking.

It was our first weekend plan after months and we were so desperate to get some break. It seemed like a Monday morning when Meerkut came up with this reason to back out. GOD.I hate it when girls throw tantrums.

I sat there pretending to work, hating Meerkut for being so daddy’s girl, but all my senses were fixed on what Meerkut and Smith were saying. I wondered how could somebody be so calmly responding when someone busts a plan like this at the last minute.

Finally, I saw Smith hugging Meerkut. She gave a peck on Meerkut’s cheek and said, 'it’s okay sweetie, you go on'.

What the heck? They looked like they were exchanging congratulations like you do when marriages are fixed.

Meerkut turned to me. I turned away. I am not good at handling such situations.

Finally, Meerkut picked her bag, pretended to put an apologetic face again, and hugged Smith with a smile as if Smith was the one who let her free from a plan to clean the city’s drainage.

Titto didn’t come. Lav wasn’t sure. And now Meerkut, gone.

I was as angry as a tiger, okay, tigress, when Smith came to me, smiled and said it was ok. I put a face which said how could she do this and how could you let her go.

That’s Smith for you, she can understand everyone even if it meant getting ditched at the last minute.

She was helpless, she had to go (Smith’s version of Meerkut backing out).
She ditched us (my version).

So I thought the plan was down in the dumps; no point sitting across the beach and making faces at your own shadows. We were not the Dil Chahta Hai trio, you know.

But the next morning, Smith and Pinks were at my door, right at 9:00 AM and guess what, we drove like Schumacer, ate like that famous Peter guy (who broke records for maximum eating), sang like American Idols, cycled like (I don’t know any renowned cyclist’s name) and told each other stories from our own lives as the sun made a face to go down. By the end of it, I felt, it was actually like that song in Dil Chahta Hai, though Meerkut,Lav and Titto were terribly missed.

That was one of the best days we had. I thought it wouldn’t happen. But that’s Smith, for you; she makes things happen.

Meerkut and I did not talk for a week but made up after she brought us all a yummy chocolate clad marble cake.

After so many days, so many changes, I am sitting here alone today, missing those beautiful moments which really did not mean much then, but make my life a lot richer when I think of ’em.

With all my heart and love, Happy Birthday, Smith !

The musings by 'The Muse'

She calls me ‘The muse’. Of course, I obviously do the harder part of creative thinking and imaginative writing, while she simply types out whatever I tell her. But basically, I am a mouse; a simple, intelligent, frustrated hybrid of white and gray. For as long as I can reckon, I live inside the head of the self proclaimed author of this blog, who steals my identity and regenerates my ideas, conveniently stamping those under her copyrights.
I love being me. It’s cool kinda being the pool of ideas to someone. It makes me feel good. Actually, it MADE me feel good. Yes, when she used to write something, sometime in the least to mention. I had a purpose. I loved to think. And always did my ground work on what to write next. I’m pretty smart, thinking, trying and raring to go. And like any other mouse, I loved eating coconut flakes and oatmeal. I thought I had a good life to live until my brain attained self actualization one day to realize the fact that this girl I live in is nothing bigger than a sleepy head!!
I mean, she has got a BIG head and a bigger nose, none of which serves any purpose to her existence, except for the breathing part to hold her alive. But if I had that big a nose, I would take a course on the art of sniffing and become like that little rat in the film Ratatouille. I would have written a book for my fellow mice family on how to think and lead better rat lives.
She stopped eating coconut and oatmeal, two of my favorite food. She says coconut is unhealthy and oatmeal makes her sick. But the real reason, I repent not being able to shout, is that she is one lazy bum to shred coconut into food. If coconut is unhealthy, god forbid those gummy jars of mayonnaise that sucks the life outta me every time she gulps down. And I have to run like crazy all over because it makes me sick!!
Okay, coming back to writing. After truck loads of motivating speeches and inspirational quotes about how those people do so many things in life and still manage to do what they want, out of sheer frustration, on this New Year’s, I renounced the idea of getting her to write. She wouldn’t anyways. And when she sits to write, her head turns towards her right shoulder (I have always wondered why she does that; come on, I sit on the left side of her brain) and gawk with a blatant look as if the words had promised to just break out of the wall on her right side!! She sits there so long gaping at the wall that I eventually fall asleep and then she leaves, sighing and wagging her hands that, I got a writer’s block today.
As if she writes great stuff every other day!
It’s like a yardstick rapped up on your knuckles!
It’s like that monster -website’s ad where you are actually a star but stuck up in a job that sucks!
It’s like you are ready to do homework, but the teacher wouldn’t give any!
I am exhausted and I have given up !! I am just done with living inside this dork-head.
So if there’s a soul out there who can be gracious enough to adopt me, then please, here I am, waiting to be all yours. I am pretty smart, quick and funny. Well yea, if you are a coconut lover, then I am more than willing!!!

Like I have always read in fairy tales, I am here, hoping and waiting for my foster soul.
Yours,
The Muse
(Actually, I would like to be called Sir. Wicky Ratington)