Life, shife and some other stuff..

I'm often amazed at how amazingly different people are from each other.

The way they think, the way they behave, the way they react to situations, the friends they make, the values they have, the priorities they have, the way they treat other people, even the way they treat themselves. The way they live their life.

How does a person decide how to live his/her life? Is there a formula to it?

Perhaps there really is a formula. Each one of us has a formula by which we live our lives. A formula derived over the years by “N” no. of observations, experiences and experimentations, “N” no of mistakes and “N” no of lessons learnt from these mistakes. And the most amazing part is -- this formula keeps changing as the years go by. And no two people have the exact same formula.

It's a continuous process of improvisation. We add certain ingredients, remove some, some work out, some result in explosions, and then finally we come up with a suitable formula. Suitable for our life at that particular moment. Because come tomorrow, it may change. Heck, it will change.

Here are a few ingredients that go into the present formula of my life, that I remind myself of, now and then:

•Accept people for who they are.

•Take your job seriously. Some day you will want to look back at it and be proud.

•You can't possibly love everyone on the planet. It's okay to not like some people.

 •There may be certain people who dislike you and piss you off, but for each of them, you have ten others who love you.

 •A smile goes a long way. When you smile, do so from the heart.

 •If you love and trust, do so completely.

 •It's okay to be angry, hurt, jealous and negative at times.

 •Invest in your friendships. They are precious. And you have to work at them to make them work.

•Travel more. There's a lot to be seen, and there isn't enough time.

•Money is important. So spend it ;) 

•Be polite.

•Take time out for your hobbies. They are an important part of you. If you neglect them, you lose a bit of yourself.

•If you are in a position to help someone in need, don't think. Just do it. You have no idea how fortunate you are just to be able to help.

•Love people around you, but be prepared to steer your ship alone in a storm.

•If you don’t know where you stand with someone in a relationship it’s better you walk away

•Regretting is a waste of time. Every day is a new beginning.

•Don't hold grudges. They will only fill you with negativity.

•Never lose your sense of humour.

•Be tough in the face of adversity. Remember "Tough times don't last, tough people do."

•Take time to dress up. Pamper yourself now and then.

•Look good to feel good.

•Feel good to look good.

•Never miss an opportunity to surprise a loved one.

•Don't let anyone hurt you without your explicit permission.

•Don't ever forget how special you are.

•Life is short. Live it up.

It's true, no one has yet discovered the one magic formula that would be applicable to everyone to live that 'perfect life'. Perhaps because there is no such thing as a perfect life. Perhaps because we need to create from scratch, our own little perfect lives, with our own little imperfections.

 

When Words fail to soothe me..

Writing doesn't come easy anymore. There's an abundance of thoughts and memories and opinions in my mind, but they refuse to share themselves with my pen. The moment I try to untangle a sense of linear meaning to try form a logical sentence, the thought abandons me.

I envy people who can write at the drop of a handkerchief. It scares me but part of it also bemuses me. Do these people write because they care too much or do they write because they need that escape?

I think my incompetence lies in the fact that I want to remember what I write. I don't want to go back to my blog many years later and not recognize my own self in those words of mine. I have been afraid of change. At least of the kind that involves a greater loss than gain.

When I see people writing, especially churning poems like chickens churning eggs, I wonder. I wonder whether they remember it all. What prompted them to write that poem? I secretly feel that people indulging in poetry have forgot emotion now. Poetry has merely become that means where one strives to parade his/her grasp of language.Why, you ask? Part of it is a sly dismissal of jealousy that arises for these women and men of words. Another part is the realization that I will only be able to write once I strip language such that only my emotions and memories stay. That involves the fear that my words would never see the light of the day then. Why would I need to write if I could feel the emotions before the pen hits the paper? These fears have been my stasis for a long while now. I do try to slowly let go of these comfortable fears of mine. I also fear that what I hear happening around me has the tendency to affect me. In terms of the pointlessness of it all.

I do have issues. I knew my ruin was near when words would fail to soothe me. And I see myself becoming a man, a person who cares in this ruin perhaps. Perhaps...

From the Blank Mind!!

My blogging time seems to have shifted from 3 am to 5 am. Well, this atleast allows me to witness the sunrise. These being chuttis, such days are going to increase.

Lets try something different today...

She looked down the road. The wait hasnt yet ended. She is still there, on the pavement, all alone. All alone among a million people. People moving everywhere. People moving in front of her and behind her. People walking across the street, people sleeping in their rooms in the buildings lining the road. People sipping coffee and reading the newspapers.

Anyhow, lets get back to the her. In her red dress, she looks up the street forlornly. When will the waited come? Someone taps her shoulder from behind. She turns around slowly only to face a rag doll. A rag doll with a hand stretched out. A rag doll with expectant eyes looking up to her, hoping for some coins. A dilemna now adds onto her burderned mind. Should she give or not? The heart says "Give, she really seems to need some money, poor hungy girl". The mind says, " No, unless we stop helping these people, they wont start to help themselves. The parents conveniently send their sons and daughters to beg and then use that money instead of working hard themselves. Shouldnt encourage this practice." Before the fight between the heart and the mind ends, the doll makes its way towards better prospects. Thus, not taking a decision also turned out to be a decision.
Relieved, her mind gets back to the prime concern. How long shall she be waiting for her dear? Maybe some trouble has befallen. Maybe she should go get some help. Maybe she should just be more patient. Every passing second makes the dub-dub louder. Her gentle heart is overworking itself. Come soon, she pleads. Someone pushes her on his way to reach somewhere quickly. She murders him with his eyes. Fortunately for him, his back was facing her. Had he looked at her, he would have instantly turned to ashes. She wonders about these people. Each busy in his own pursuit, with not a thought for the people along the way. What do they do once they reach their destination? Run after another one. Run. That reminds her. And she looks up the street again. Willing an appearance, materialise into view at the peak of that slanted road. But all that appear are minute droplets in her eyes. She didnt even realise that her eyes were moist. She closes her eyes tightly. She shouldnt let anyone see her now. Atleast not her teary eyes. She should be strong. Or atleast act strong. Thats what she is has been told time and again. Be strong. Dont cry. But why? When crying can peel away your grief, why shouldnt she cry?

She seem to be loosing all hope. Just then, through her closed eyes, she experiences the pleasure. The pleasure of that familiar touch. That familiar sound. She opens her eyes. The eyes now filled with tears of joy. She bends down and gets her face licked. Who was more joyful, its hard to say. She hugs her Tequila. A hug that communicates all her love.
Picking up her puppy, she heads back home. Its almost time for school now.

Can't think of a title for this one!!

Aren't there occasions when you suddenly get this urge to talk to someone? Not someone in particular but not any-every-one either ... just that you feel a need to talk, about nothing in particular but not too inane to be ignored either. And, as it is bound to happen, you would not find anyone worthwhile to talk to. You can't call anyone reachable at the time without mildly upsetting them or making them question your sanity. The adjective 'worthwhile' does narrow down your choices quite considerably. So, you think, what the hell, just go to sleep! But you can't! As a result, you decide to have a monologue ... via your blog.

However, the point of contention then is that since you had no particular topic in mind to carry out the much wanted conversation, what would you start blogging about? Yeah, you can just type what you are thinking. And some thoughts ramble out.
There is as much mystery outside as there is inside .... both literally and metaphorically. Isn't it much tougher to figure out what you want then to actually obtain it? Even when you think you know what you want, you cannot be completely sure, since there always exists an uncertainty. It can get more complicated if the only way to know whether you want it or not is to try obtaining it but you cannot risk not wanting it once you obtain it leaving you are in a catch-22 situation (that reminds me, I still need to read that book)

Sometimes, you wish your mind would stop all the pondering and contemplation and give itself a break. You try to bring about the break by watching many hours of gripping drama or hilarious comedy but as soon as you stop, the mind jumps back to the same old state ... just as I am typing this, the song 'comfortably numb' comes out of the random selection on my phone... how ironic.

I know I am confused, but about what? No idea. Lazed around trying to figure what was wrong. The result.. nothing. Why is it that sometimes everything is fine, no troubles, no problems, no tensions, yet you do not feel good. You are surrounded by people, but you seem to be lonely. But no one can tell that anything is wrong because there is no change in your behaviour. Everything is fine but you arent.

Life is good but can be better :)