I will not go down without a fight
I will not sleep tonight
I am not a candle to blow me out
I will kick, scream and shout
I will not lay rest my soul
I will not help drill a six feet hole
This is my promise to you
on this lonely, starless night
I will not go down without a fight
If I whisper a prayer
will it reach you
even when it doesn't spill out of my heart
Will you hear my voice
and understand
my strength is my greatest weakness
Will you answer them
or pose another question
to confirm my hatred
which you instilled
is my fate my boon tonight?
You know, I have always -- well most often than not -- been the person who has gone and got something that I have wanted. I work on greed and want and need. I wanted love, I wanted to be with this one guy. I attempted to get him. In retrospect I realise it could never be about the guy itself. It was when I took the step. It was more about reaching out to see if I could get what I wanted. Quit a job, move to London, see if I can get a new job. Let go of my ego, tell a guy I love him and see if it works. But now I find myself in a weird predicament. I love my job. I have realised money and fame isn't everything for job satisfaction. I also realised I have no want. I don't have a man that I am in love with, half way like or even turn to have a look at. So, what am I aiming for? The air? I have a bow and arrow and shooting in the dark when there are no enemies around me.
Necessity is the mother of all invention. Greed is the reason man evolves. Love is what makes him wake up every morning to take that overcrowded train. Happiness is why he kneels in front of a woman. Here I am standing straight, on the shores of a calm lake, with lots of fish but I am a vegetarian.
I can't even figure out if that analogy works.
Over and out
One year has passed by as whimsical as a fantasy, a spot of fiction that turned into reality.
I was more ponderous in my teenage youth - a derivative of spare time. I am more practical in my late twenties - a fall out of fractured time and a grapple to stay alive.
Alive in those desires that made you push through school and college. The drive to succeed, the subtle comparison against peers, the holding hands through the hardships and heart breaks. What was then thought of as hard now seemingly unnecessary. And this there is growth.
I know I have grown in ways I cannot begin to believe I could. Yet, I still feel I was this strong when I was a teen. Early twenties spoilt me with courage to do the wrong things in life. Not rebellious, wrong. Not irresponsible, plain stupid. I thought I could never get through those life-upsetting situations but I just had to look back to who I was and get her back because she knew how to live. How well to live and to love myself and to dance to bring a smile on my face.
I am left alone with my memories - some bitter some sweet but most of all I am left with the better part of myself and I am never going to settle for anything lesser than I deserve.
I seem to always tend to miss my blog and writing my thoughts on it when I have no words to say! Life was once fascinating for what it could present to a young mind. It was the exhilaration of walking into the unknown, getting to the treasure or the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and the perpetually endless journey to the end that kept mankind on the invisible path. But it seems like life has a way of weighing down on people, forcing each one to be pessimistic and cynical about hope, hope of finding that pot of gold, however small it might be. One bright friend of mine said that you never draw the line between being optimistic and facing the reality that we might never reach the end of the rainbow. Is it better to be a person who has understood that this mad rush to the end in hope is nothing but an illusion and be a grouch? Or is it better to be a person who is filled with hope that there is the treasure we seek and be stupid to reality?
For a person who has no words to say, I do say a lot! Maybe I should have said that these aren't coherent thoughts at all in the first place!
I am cringing about the fact that I have stolen Akshay Khanna's movie title for my post title but nothing better to describe this feeling within me. I am so happy that my heart's having this really big smile that my face can't even begin to exhibit. My last day at work was 28th Feb and the following day I was a goner. I was sitting at home, jobless and that was something I couldn't handle. But the minute I landed in London and saw the pretty blue lights that lit up the trees sans any leaves, I realized that Spring is right around the corner. It is the beginning of a new dream. London Dreams!
For the brief moment I spoke to one of my good friends, I realized that it is easier to look back – say the last ten years or lesser, say five years – and count at the things you had dreamt about doing and not done. Everyone has their bucket list but I think with increasing age and changing priorities the list is like life – never constant. So why fret about the things you haven’t done and list the things that you actually never thought would have entered “the-things-to-do-in-life-in-ten-years” and point out some that you have. I hope whoever is reading this can name at least 5! :-) Mine are as follows and by the way it is more difficult than you think. Why? Cause you have raised the bar high for yourself by doing great things :) pat yourself for that and cheers to many more…
1. I went to London to study – I never thought I could convince my mom, who was quite adamant that Indian education is much better
2. Paris/Egypt – Went to some of my dream destinations
3. Fell in love, fell out of it, got my heart broken, broke a heart and did one all over again
4. Business Journalism – of all the things the one thing I NEVER dreamed of is to become a part of the financial sector. And I love it!
5. Poetry – I was always in love with words. I tried my hand at prose. Theory is not my cup cake! Then all of a sudden there she was… My muse. And then to make life better, brighter and sun shiny I stumbled upon Emily Dickinson!
Most of us love change in its simplest form. A change in seasons, a change in clothes, and a change of jobs – we except, and sometimes even enjoy. Recently, my friend lost access to her blog, which she had created and come to love. However, it was not her first blog but her second. She was debating as to moving into her old blog or starting one afresh. I haven’t followed up with her regarding her decision, but that debate spun off a thought in my head.
Late last year, I created a new blog for a new beginning, a new direction a new me! I have written stuff that I like, I don’t like, I will miss, tell and never kiss, but it lacks the “real sense of me” -- an idealistic dreamer and a story teller -- who in an impulsive spree opened her own book, opened a book as an ode to her life. It was real, honest and even brutal sometimes. Well, most of the times. But the people I spoke about, tarnished or plain pointed fingers at understood why I wrote them. It was personal but it wasn’t me taking things personally. Every time I feel like writing a heart rendering post I run back to my old one. The new one is a pretty dress. The old one is me, sitting in front of a mirror finishing up a long day’s work, mascara running down my cheek along with tears, after a performance worthy of a standing ovation.
