Monday, October 26, 2009

What's your word ?

If you have read ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ by Elizabeth Gilbert, this would have occurred to you. If you haven’t, well, on my guesses to a normal soul’s path of life, it might still have occurred to you – What’s your word?

According to the book, everything can go coupled with a word that best goes with it – everything -a person, a place, a book – just everything. It’s said to be more natural than we think.
Like, let me try -

-India – people
-Home– heart
-Fridays – boon
-My best friend – hysteria

- See? Simple!

Actually, it doesn’t sound that complicated in theory – a question you would have to answer in just about a word, just about what hits your mind, I think it should be - heart, before blinking off – what’s your word?

So why does it confuse the shit out of me, in practice, in real, into my face???

When I read the book a year ago, I decided to pretend I hadn’t read that question – after intensely going thru’ oodles of deranged hours on the couch, thinking about it, well, like you had guessed, to no answer.
For, again another deranged reason, I am re-reading the book, this time, with a wider eye for all that I missed during the first.
A word – okay, not necessarily ­about the type of personality you possess – it could be a thing that’s like a hymn to your soul, that breathes in and breathes out, that lives in your heart, that comes to life in dreams during those soundest sleeps, that without which you would not be you! And the truly magical part about it is-you gotta trust me on this-that you may not know it exists – but it does.

- Well, at least I like to believe it does even if I haven’t come to terms with it.

Play it safe – the book convinces that it’s ok not to find it even if you set out on a hunt with just all the honesty you could harvest from deepest roots of your heart. But you will, one day.

Now, fortune telling could be a different ball game, but I trust on this one – I will, one day. I hope, I will – damn, what the devil can the word be ?

I'm sure many of you might give a smug opinion that why would anyone give a damn. If it's so - good for you ! It keeps you from hysterical limits your soul can scale up to - umm, well, never mind!

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

I swear to God - this ain't normal

Okay! This is crazy ! This is the first time ever - ever in almost 3 whole years of blogging that I have something for a consecutive day of having posted another something.
I am cured of long-term ailment from potential numbness .Yea, that’s gotta be it !
It’s like a drug that went straight to my brains on an over-dosage run. I am hyper – I am really hyper – What the hell is wrong ????

I met a little someone today who embraced that inner soul – sweet smiled, noodle haired, dressed like chic – you know the type. You pass a stealthy look and gulp a ball of awe until you hear them talk. No, wait – much against the normal cases, she just got better when she talked. Between silent gazes of waiting for her turn in the long queue at the microwave, she smiled and nodded as if in perfect unison when my box declared a long 2.5 mins to heat. I hate it when the queue behind me stares down, waiting to jump right on after I move. Scary! Now, let me get back to this angel - I said LITTLE, because this lady behind me was not some five-foot-six-inch masquerade of wholesome good looks. Well, she had the good looks but she was probably just about 3-foot-not-more-than-3-inches composition of life. I honestly do not go beyond a smile at such impromptu-bonks but she ought to be different. She was. From what I gather from the 2.5 mins we stood there, she simply seemed more comfortable than psyched-up with the way the world moved. Why would she otherwise take another sweet 10 seconds to let me know that she loved the way Indian food smelled? But that was it. I couldn’t manage more than a humbled Thank You! And here am, writing about what was her name ?

This I am guessing is not the first time I am taken to a road of inspired-creativity by a woman. There have been quite a few instances in my history when I was completely consumed by the beauty and goodness of such female souls. Now, is that okay? I hope it is – because I am freaking straight but why am I quite in love with such stories? What's with a few counts from the male community who will make good story-pieces on my blog? Well, atleast.

But that’s not what I am worried about. What is more serious at this point is the spooky hyper self that has possessed. I am just hoping I don’t have to take a pill or something to get back to normal state of having nothing to write about. If I live life at this rate, I am gonna crash into total madness !!!

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

One of those hyper evenings, it is

So –

I have always had this intuitive guilt when I take myself on a shortly long sabbatical from blogging - but that’s not why I am writing.

The town, after 3 beautiful weeks of celebrating color (also reminding us again of why we should not contemplate suicide) went paler and thinner (after the leaves bade good byes) today. Winds have taken their time of the year, indicating – ‘get aside, I am gonna show what it’s like when you disrespect nature’ – yea, understandable –every dog has its day – I should say season. The depression dawned on me when I had to wear my first weather coat of the year. But that’s not why I am writing either. I hate winter !

I met another lady who hates winter much more than I do. After wriggling off the misty beads that found home on her jacket-braced arms, she shook her head in frustration, looking behind her shoulders, the hazy morning. “It makes me sick” , I tried to offer solace. She shook her head harder – I didn’t know if she agreed or hated me for talking about something she hated.
“Oh, try driving up to work at 4:00 Am everyday, honey. You haven’t seen anything yet”.
- Really, there are things I need to say thanks to.

I have for once in these many years, started listening to my body. It’s like coming of age. So no more shrugging off the tiny aches or reactions-to-my-hysteric-nothings or even cravings. I want to listen to them all and understand (tryin to) something that embodies me – my soul – my life. Guess the work out sessions are playing their influence – good to know – I wouldn’t have known my own heartbeats otherwise. These are things worth your time.

Last Saturday was Diwali. It wouldn’t mean a lot when families and friends are seven seas, seven mountains away. So mind half goes – who cares – why bother anyway ? But I think it’s the hangover of the changes that I want in myself these days, that I decided to celebrate it anyway. It ended up, well, half fun, half frustrating. Fun because we had surprise guests who stayed till midnight and frustrating because they went “oh, dear, you really shouldn’t have bothered living half a day in the kitchen for a biriyani that tastes like this !!!!”. It went past me I guess - am more into the meditative trance now. (What!!???)).

Over to matters that matter right now – I really, really have gotten back my love for writing. In fact it’s a little over the board this time that I am already thinking of compiling my short stories for my yet-to-be-titled book. When it’s too much, I know it’s like a just-opened can of beer and before the fizz dies, I will Shut up !!!