Change

We've always had it easy. We simply stated our desires and wants and our parents decided whether they were in the mood to fulfill those wants and desires or not. It was simple, dad got a job in some new place, all bags packed the family moved. I got used to being the kid that moved every one to two years. Even though it was difficult, change came without a choice. At that age you aren't exactly in a position to state that you want to stay and let it work out that way. But somewhere along the line of being the kid that was so used to change, I settled. I grew to love a single place with all my heart.

Delhi became that place. Well, Gurgaon. But the sense of familiarity and the known sunk in so deep that now after thirteen years it seems difficult to leave. The only difference with this move is that I took my own decision. A time when I was given the option to do what I wanted. So do I chose the familiarity of the place that I have now come to love as home? Or do I chose the familiarity of family? Of waking up every morning and knowing that I'm still a little bit of a child and knowing that my mom and dad are just in the room next to mine. Or do I chose my dreams?

Suddenly a time comes where you are stating your wants and desires but its no longer a parent choosing what to do for you. Its you. Somewhere along the line you are faced with a reality check. You suddenly realise that you're not a kid anymore. Your mom and dad aren't making the choices of your life anymore. You come to realise that twenty-one is grown up enough. Its time to make your choices, decide how you want your life to pan out. And not just state it on paper and wait around for it to happen but to take a chance on yourself and make your dreams and plans a reality.

I still have that anxiety. That feeling of the unknown that creeps in and makes you doubt this change. The difference this time is that its a choice you made so the doubt is no longer limited to is this new place going to be nice, will I make friends and the likes of that but becomes did I make the right choice.

People say life is a long road and we all learn from our choices. Some of those choices are right, some wrong. But either way we learn from these choices we make.

Letting go is difficult. It is for anyone- unless you are void of any personal association and emotion. I know I've always been a bit emotional. So this letting go suddenly feels like letting go forever. And even though deep inside I know thats not the case, its difficult to accept. I know this place is going to always be here. And the people are going to still be a part of my life. But then why does it feel like its not?

I accept that growing up and change is life. You don't really have a choice at the end of the day. And I know its inevitable. But it always seems to come too soon. I don't feel ready to be an adult. However, when you're almost a college graduate with your entire life ahead of you to do whatever you please, its a little unfair to yourself to shy back and be a child.

In my heart I know its fair to try. In my mind I know I made a good choice. My soul knows what its doing. And even though that tiny voice of self doubt creeps up every so often, she too knows this is worth a risk.

So here I am, trying to grow up a little. Embark on life for myself. Try something new somewhere new (relatively). Here's to trying. To growing up. To change. To risk. And to choices. I hope this is some new, crazy and fabulous endeavor that makes me know what I want to do with my life. And if it isn't, then let it be the first mistake I made on my own terms and let me learn from it.

We no longer have it easy. We make our own lives from here on out. We choose what we want and we are obligated to ourselves to make it happen. Today is the first day of the rest of my life...

Untitled

Its a cold cold night tonight,
And among the stars are fireflies,
In the darkness that's out of control,
I feel my emotions rise.

Its a tricky path, this life,
Full of forks and unknown divides,
And as we all stumble along to be,
The best version of us hides.

In the cruelty the floats upon the surface,
I wonder if drowning might show,
The goodness that lies beneath,
And can we catch it before it flows.

We live without respect now,
Money makes the world turn,
Each does as they fancy,
When did our moral compass burn?

What happened to the simpler times,
Where everyone was happy and fine,
No one walked around in fear,
Mistaking everything as a bad sign.

We run and strive for acceptance,
We want to be the best and outshine the others,
And we're willing to do it at any cost,
Even crushing and breaking our brothers.

Its a cold cold night tonight,
I pray for warmer sunny times,
Where life is simple and uncomplicated,
Where everyone is truly fine...

Broken Compass

"There comes a time when every life goes off course. In this desperate moment you must choose your direction. Will you fight to stay on the path while others tell you who you are? Or will you label yourself? Will you be honoured by your choice? Or will you embrace your new path? Each morning you choose to move forward or to simply give up..."

Today I feel directionless. I feel like I don't have the strength to choose my path. I feel regret and my choices and I feel lost in a pool of thought. Even though I don't have the strength to fight, I feel the will to try. My heart is bogged down by the emotions of embarrassment and resentment. These feelings I feel towards myself. I feel like a destroyer who burnt down bridges, who feels helpless and lost in abandoned land. There is no path that can get me out of here except the one I draw for myself.

I don't feel honoured at my choices, not all my choices. Somewhere I feel like I could have been better, stronger and maybe the outcome may have been more hopeful. Sometimes I feel I should have refrained, kept words in my heart to spare someone else's heart. Sometimes I wonder if I strived for too little, that I was worth more and that I may have settled. But then I feel that maybe I'm too little for what I have and that what I have is so much bigger than what I deserve.

My spirit is crushed, I can feel my footsteps faltering on this road. I can feel the thirst in my throat reaching an aching point. A part of me is determined to walk a path that will in turn please people and along which I may find some peace of mind and a sprinkle of happiness. Another part of me wants to fall to the ground and give up all my paths. And yet another part of me, the small voice inside my head, tells me that life is too short for the regrets I feel.

As this ongoing battle inside me drains my energy, I feel incapable of moving on from this state of mind. My darkness is not only inside me, but I feel it around me now. I feel the last two years have changed me so much. I feel tired and old. I feel lost and broken. And even despite the support I've had, I feel more alone than ever.

I feel directionless and lost. Broken in abandoned land. Down on my knees and thinking that this may not be worth it anymore- not the regret, not the sorrow, not the darkness nor the joy. I feel the penetrating gaze of society as it judges my every choice, my every motion and for the first time in a long time, I don't have it in me to fight to be who I want to.

Standing here I look around hoping to find a face to read, a hand to hold, a soul to bond. Even though the world runs by be in its hurry and rush to achieve, I stand here still with nowhere to run to, to goal to achieve. As it all turns into a blur, the only thing I see clearly is the broken compass of my life.

Stuck In Reverse

Its one of those days where I feel my mind being completely restless. I can feel the tension in my body as it paces up and down the narrow corridor lined with memories. Its looking for something, or wishing for something, I cannot decipher what it wants. All I know is that there is a sudden sense of longing and reminiscence.

The feelings make me feel old. I suddenly feel like so much has changed in such little time that it feels like decades ago when things were easier. My being craves for that senseless chatter in corridors trying to catch glimpses of winter sun, it craves for those days when it was so much easier to shake off a bad feeling. Somehow it feels like we've lost out on eachother, and I can't help but feel like I am no longer capable of mending a bridge.

As the tornado of these memories rushes through me, I feel like I'm stuck in some parallel universe which thrives on dilemma. I know not where to go, or whom to call when I've lost my way. Faces seem to be fading in my mind and relationships seem to just linger with a lost scent. Words lie here forgotten and promises of bonds remain tangled in the woes of daily life.

At some point in this text, I feel like I'm whining. Like I'm trying to make it seem like my life is miserable, it's not. That old 'Emo' version, as some would joke, has died away with time. I don't feel like the old version of myself, injuries and immunity issues aside. Its like another form of evolution. Time forces you to adapt to the environment around you and to cope with change, and one must learn to embrace the ticking of the clock. Granted that most of us have more tomorrows left than yesterdays, but those yesterdays cannot be forgotten as they define who we are today.

The whirlwinds of old flames and relationships and places are like old oil paintings, the frames are chipping and the paint is peeling off. And yet in its dishevelled face, there is still beauty. There is always an underlying likeability to everything, finding it makes accepting it easier.

I am walking down memory lane, and right now I do feel a little like a silly teenage girl feeling bad about who didn't call or what party I missed or why she's mad at me. At this juncture, the older version of me is saying that there are more important things than worrying, but I cannot help but do so (part of this problem may be genetic). The old days may have been fun, the new days far tougher, and yet somehow its the mixture of these two drastic sides of our lives that have culminated to make us into personalities.

Maybe today I am stuck in reverse and I miss old faces and people. I just hope tomorrow I can embrace the fact that maybe some of those faces are fading and there are new ones around, not to replace the old but to enrich me in whatever way they can. Life has changed, this fact just needs to be accepted...

The Warm Night

The warm night encases the light like a thousand fireflies in a jar,
The beginning of summer reflects off the coast, far.
The salty winds carry a message, strongly worded,
In the skies its left to be decoded.
Across the vast expanse of empty space,
Lingers a thought that one could not encase.
Words unspoken run through the streets,
Like broken jukeboxes with spurts of random beats.
A summer night eluded with mystery,
Weighing heavy with undiscovered history.
Somewhere a clock ticks slowly,
And somewhere the tower bell echoes lowly.

The raindrops linger on the leaves a while,
Before they begin their dance so versatile.
The green around pops with colour,
And we look around waiting to discover.
Underneath the moss it seems,
There are a thousand dreams.
Below the bridge over the river that flows,
I sense the currents and tides that rose.

The warm night is such a delicate feat,
It encloses me in its sublime treat.
Attempting to grasp its tiny nuances,
I am mesmerized.
Floating away into a never land,
I find my hand in your hand.

Walk with me now?
And I promise to show you how,
This night is tranquil and calm,
And exuberant with charm.

The warm night encased the light like a thousand fireflies in a jar,
The rain tricked off leaves and fell not to far,
Cool breezes blew the mysteries away,
And from this magic it was impossible to stray,
In its transformation I find my escape,
Simply foreseeing it as fate,
I run through these images in my mind,
In my heart they settle in time.

This warm night with its rain holds.
A secret not to be told.

2nd April, 2011

Last night more than one and a half billion people waited eagerly for what would be the clash of the host teams. The 2011 World Cup brought into its finals a strong Sri Lanka and a powerful India. As eyes remained fixated on a game that didn't end until the final six, restless hearts beat praying for their country and their team. A fight that was contended till that final moment that really could have gone either way. Moments of vigour and moments of despair, as fear and excitement battled it out and at moments when my faith would shake.

As I sat surrounded by friends who watched the game, my heart beating faster with every ball, every boundary, every wicket. Joy at the Sri Lankan wickets, fear after ours. Tears filling up at those early wickets of Sachin and Sehwag, and tears when Dhoni smashed that final six.

Last night was a night of nerves, of thrill, of fear and mostly of passion. I don't pride myself on being a big cricket fan, but last night I was proud to be an Indian. I sat glued to the television, superstitious in my black, praying at odd intervals, trying to reassure my faith. I gave up, like any typical Indian at one point, but I remembered that this country of 1.2 billion people was holding its breath with me. Cricket fans or not, the country stopped to pause and watch what was a glorious victory.

The night was filled with frantic SMSs and calls to my mother who reminded me to hold onto my faith and believe and the twenty years of being a commentators daughter kicking in. In a family where everyone possesed that love for sports, I felt like the black sheep. Last night I felt passion and love. I felt pride and amazement as the Boys in Blue became the Men in Blue. I may for the first time not have the words to express my sentiments about cricket. A sport that this country thrives on, where Tendulkar is God and where we all Bleed Blue.

This cup was ours from day one, and now it's shine will illuminate the entire subcontinent.
2nd April, 2011 will be a memory etched in every young Indian as the first time they saw their country hold the World Cup. It will be a day that generations ahead will reminisce over 1983 and feel that pride and joy for the second time in their lives. A morning filled with restlessness only brought to ease by a stunning victory. It will be remembered as the historic day when for the first time a host country kept the Cup.

So here's to that victory. The victory that was not only celebrated by those eleven men led by their captain, but a victory that is celebrated by one billion twenty one million people as their hearts swell with pride. To the World Champions. To India.

Jai Hind!

Struggle

I didn't mean to end up here. The path to this old door was so inviting. As hard as I tried, I couldn't resist. Voices and forces pulled my weight into the dimly lit curious corridor. I tried to keep my feet firm on the ground, but I found myself lifted and moving forward.

There are no people around me. Just a cold damp darkness and the longing to find the glow and shimmering light. The stone walls are bare, blank like canvas craving artistic strokes. My hand trembles while my mind works at a lightning fast speed. The intensity of the energy is too much to handle and it may drive me to insanity.

I turn, looking for an escape. There isn't even a crack around me. The door I walked in through has vanished. I'm lost. Stuck in this stone covered aura. Blocked from the world outside. There isn't a decibel of noise, nor a glimmer of hope. All the movement is restricted to my fearful trembling.

I'm stuck. The thought keeps overlapping all others. My mind is scared, but my body stands still unable to grasp the position I've found myself in. The cold wind is trying to tell me something. The silence is so unsettling I can't concentrate on its tones. I strain my ears, my mind and whatever part of me still functions. I can't. There's too much happening and yet its all still.

The blankness stares at me. Strong and bold. All knowing that I can't take its intense glare. It looks me in the eye, laughing feeling superior and I feel like a empty paint tube lying discarded on the floor.

I know there is a looming greyness over me, I struggle to find the colours. The darkness creeps into me and as I struggle to find the strength to fight it I feel my knees giving in below me. My weight seems too much to handle and I fall to the ground.

The cold hard floor sinks its sensation into me numbing any of my own. I sit there numb and trapped. Stuck in a world where I fail to see beyond the mist that fogs up my eyes. I feel my eyes bulging out in the hope of finding something that I know in my mind and heart exists but that which I cannot see. I let my beliefs get the best of me.

I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to yell. But the helplessness has caught my throat. I can feel myself choking on the silence around me. No sign of life, scaring me out of my skin. Goosebumps run up and down along with the shiver that chills through my back. I fall completely. My face hits the stone and I feel the cold surface take over the core of my being.

I lie there. Quiet. Shivering. Trembling. Hoping. Wishing. Waiting. No one finds me. What seems like days pass me by. I crave the warmth of familiar arms, the cackle of friendly laughter. Its lost somewhere in the silence. I am in another world. I close my eyes, a pitch black surrounds me. I let myself go.

I am lost. I am stuck.

Save me, I want to yell. I try screaming. Whispers leave my lips. I gather some strength and try again. A faint voice this time. I know no one can hear me. I wonder if anyone has noticed that I am missing. This thought scares me more, what if no one has. The minority of me that was attempting to hope, loses its battle to the majority of me that has given up.

No inking of optimism, I continue to lie on the cold ground. I look up. The blank canvas still stares at me. I find myself at war with my mind again. I feel my fingers at my side itching to move and my brain restricting that very function.

I stop and stare a while longer. I feel like I find strength in the emptiness. Time has taken the best of me. Fear has restricted me. The shiver has held me in its tight hold. And beyond all this I hope to be saved.

Save me. Hold me while I shiver. Laugh so to wipe my tears. Hold my hand through life till I find where I'm going. Push me so I stumble, and help me up when I hit the ground hard.

Teach me life. Teach me how to live.

Be.

Be with me.

Till I can be myself. Till I shed my cover. Till I break away from this cave I'm stuck in. Till I can hold you, not just in my heart, but in my arms.

I didn't mean to end up here. But I find myself closer to getting out.