Euphoria

There is a huge difference between what a person wants and what a person needs to be happy, satisfied, loved, adored and fulfilled.

More often than not, the overpowering of the want somehow pushes and suppresses the silent voice of the need.

As far as I can tell, it happens to most of us. At the very least, it happened to me.

How strange it is that for something that we want so dearly, so desperately that we’re ready to hold on to it so tightly just to let it slip away?

How awfully unfair everything seems when what we want is in the distance, fading away, never to light up again?

How catastrophic our existence becomes when we realize it was all an effort for nothing?

How lost and lonely we feel, like falling into an abyss, with not a ray of hope, a flicker of love, or a soft hand to pull us back up is all but a distant memory?

They dwell inside you. Things denied, things untold, things hidden and disguised.

And sooner or later, the cloak is lifted, the veil moved away, and nothing but a shattered and broken heart remains, remains to be seen, to be mocked at, to be laughed at and to be pitied. Worst of all, pitied.

It has eluded me for long, the difference between want and need. Does it elude me still? I do not know, perhaps I never will.

It never was easy, it never will be.

But sometimes, when all else fails, and when you least expect, He has planned a miracle for you. The very ray of hope, flicker of love and a soft hand pulls you up, ever so unknowingly, ever so mystically and ever so magnanimously that you can hardly fathom the graciousness bestowed upon you.

This messiah expects nothing, and continues to give, while all you can do is watch in awe, wonder in amazement what you did to deserve such unconditional love. All you can do is prove to be worthy of it in every possible way.

And before you even realize it, you’re a better person, a stronger individual who will do all he can to protect and cherish the wonder given so generously. Euphoria.

I don’t know where I was when I found you; I don’t even know how I did. All I know, and something that you don’t, is that I was lost. You found me, you saved me, and for that, I will always love you. Thank you, though it hardly does justice. I am forevermore, in your debt.

Revelation

When you are alone, wandering about unknown hills in the dark with snow falling, no shoes and no light, with a fear of being attacked by a snow leopard, you undergo a variety of thoughts. Atleast I did.

I remember the cold rocks piercing my feet. My hands being numb despite of three layers of clothing. I was unable to find the path back to my camp… I couldn't think of anything… Shouting wasn't an option.

Being out of ideas, I sat down. Closed my eyes, held myself tight, I just sat down. It was still snowing.

It is really strange how your whole life reflects before you when there is an immaculate silence around you… 

I clearly remember. I could listen to my thoughts. And for the first time in a long time, all my mistakes were loud and clear… All my goof ups, all my naïveté and all the bad decisions I took were right there, before me. I could finally see what I did and was shocked. 

Have you felt the sinking feeling you get when you thought you were right all along, but suddenly realized you were as wrong as wrong could possibly be?

Have you felt the desire to do the worst you can to yourself because that's what you have been doing to someone you cared for the most?

Have you felt the need to hide yourself in a place where no one could ever find you?

Have you felt a rage so strong, that you would think that everything bad ever happened was because of you?

If you have, then it's simpler to picture what happened that cold night. 

It took a lot of time to put these in words. But it took just a brief part of a second to feel all that…

I was sitting still, eyes shut tightly, not wanting to open them and see the world around me… But somehow, something compelled me to open them… I couldn't see anything. It was so dark that I could barely see my own hands, let alone anything else… I did not know what to do.

Suddenly, as though it was a miracle, the darkness started to fade away slowly. I could see where I was, and I could get a clear picture of where my camp was…

Thinking something, I smiled. I got up, walked myself to the camp, went in to my tent, opened the sleeping bag and went off to sleep.

Isn't it the same in our lives?? We are running along helplessly, in panic. All the time, when we decide on something, we do so with our eyes closed, not allowing ourselves to see the whole picture. And finally, when we do open our eyes, the darkness around us does not allow us to see our mistakes and we continue to think we are right. Only when we give something time, we see the whole picture and realize how wrong we were and what we could do to make things right… 

Little did I know that getting lost on an unknown hill would teach me something so valuable. I learnt an important lesson there and I sincerely hope I am able to make the most of it.

Metamorphosis

I sat down by the window, looking at the drops of rain falling mercilessly on the ground. The sky was dark, illuminated every once in a while by lightning, and echoing with the roars of thunder. Neither a vehicle, nor a living soul passed by the road the entire time I was sitting.

I sat down by the window, as still as a mountain, unshaken by the thunder, unmoved by the strong wind. My gaze was fixed on a tiny leaf, swirling wildly. Water was falling on it continuously, but it never got drenched.

I sat down by the window, with a hope that I would get to see someone, even something passing by the empty water-logged street or a flying bird trying to reach its nest made with a lot of effort, a symbol of its dignity and perseverance.

I sat down by the window, thinking about things important and not, but ones always circling my head. Thinking what matters and what does not, I kept mulling over the past, like it was something which was going to determine my future.

I sat down by the window, tears in my eyes, longing to see that face again, yearning for the comfort once felt, which got lost in the midst of confusion, chaos and an underlying sense of guilt and regret.

I sat down by the window, clenching my fists, clenching my teeth, so full of anger and rage, wanting to destroy all the innocence I see, for that’s what I always thought happened to me.

I sat down by the window, the strong wind turning to breeze, calming me down; consoling me like a mother’s lullaby does to a baby, and erasing the clutch of negativity growing inside me, like a shadow with each passing hour.

I sat down by the window, looking at the reducing rain, listening to the serene sound of small droplets falling on the streets, taking in the sweet smell of the moist soil, overpowered for so long by the thunder and the whistling winds, rising from the earth slowly, reminding me of the importance of what lies beneath.

I sat down by the window, a damp day turning to normal again, cars back on the streets, birds flying by, bees buzzing from flower to flower, children and adults coming back out, not caring about what happened just a few hours ago, completely devoted in the present.

I sat down by the window, tears fading, lips curving into a wonderful arc, happy that I am present, realising that it is a present, with memories of both extremes, making me a stronger person.

I thank everyone, who has made me what I am today, for whatever part you have played, you have made me stronger.

The Eternal

This one's for you, Sunshine. We'll be forever more, best friends for life.

Something about what lies ahead. This is the most hidden part of me thats finding a way out here. Confusions, if any, are understandable.

Here are a few questions that have been bothering me for sometime now.

How many times have all of us felt devastated when something we didn't even imagine in our wildest dreams to happen, happened at a blink?

How many times has our world, or should I say, our own little world, made up of all what we hold dear, has come falling apart, like in one of those sci-fi movies?

How many of us have spent at least one night thinking, wondering, contemplating and crying as never before because things were worse than ever?

How many times have a few things made us believe that with them coming to an end, our life comes to a stand still, a dead end, with nowhere to go?

How many times has such a particular 'change' happened in our lives, that has left us completely helpless, at times at will of the others, though it's not fair on them?

Change. A mere change.

There might hardly be a few people who haven't gone through a transition, that has completely changed them, changed their relationships, and changed the way they think. And despite that, this is the one thing, which we fear the most. Change.

But the thing we forget is, that even after everything we hold dear has changed, we are still there, broken, beat and scarred, but still very much alive to face another day bringing something new. Did I say alive? Well at times, all we need to know about being alive, is that we are still present, here and now.

A new day, a new beginning. Easier said than done, right?

Let's look at a seed. It transforms itself into a sapling, then a plant, then a tree. Soon it blossoms, and we have fruits. We take the fruits, cut the branches. It sheds it's leaves, becomes completely different from what it was last spring. But life does not end there. It's always alive, getting back to the form it was. Providing shade, flowers and fruits.

How easy all of it seems. It was a tree, it remained a tree. What was the change?

It's the process of breaking or being broken, and then making yourself again.

For the past couple of weeks, I have been dealing with a change in my life. And no, it hasn't been easy. I went through all the questions I asked, and here I am. Yes, it has changed. But why to look at it as a dead end? Why not a new start to something more beautiful?

Pondering over it, all I can say is that change is eternal. No beginning, no ending. Perpetual and enduring.

Change.

All I can say is, that I am sorry. I took something as an end. And I am glad to say that I have finally realised that it's not an end, but a new beginning. Whatever led to the change, happened. What it was, it was beautiful, and I cherished every moment of it. And what it will be, we'll make it better. To us, Sunshine. Cheers.

At first sight

I sat by the window, on a June day. It felt gloomy, but I guess that’s what it’s always like in June. It had been similar for the past few days, but today was different. I felt at peace with everything. The breeze was cool. I knew today was the day, the day of the first shower. I asked Ma to make coffee for me. Suddenly in a flash, I heard the rain. The sweet smell of Mother Earth got a wide smile on my face.

I asked Ma to make coffee later and rushed out of the door. As I stepped out into the open, I was greeted by the unusually heavy downpour. But it felt great. Heat had taken its toll and now was the time for the Earth to cool down and nurture the scars.

I felt the coolness of the raindrops, wetting me completely from head to toe. I jumped, splashed, shouted, giggled and whirled and whirled around in the shower. My joy knew no bounds. The sound of the drops felt like music to me. It was bliss. And sometime later, the shower stopped. I heard the birds chirp and rushed back home to dry myself.

As soon as I was done, Ma asked me, “Beta, enjoyed your first shower? Liked it?”

I just replied, “Ma, it felt beautiful. How I wish I could see it myself.”

I knew Ma was in tears, I just knew. Yes, I was blind.

But as time advanced, so did the technology in every possible field, specially the medical field. Now, it was possible for me to get operated and get my eyesight back. I was more than eager to get it back, for I wanted to see Ma and the rains. I had no one else.

23^rd May. I was to be operated. Simple operation, just a few hours. But the eye sight was to come after a few days. It started, ended. The doctor announced, “Operation successful.” That was it. Once I gained consciousness, I said to Ma, “Ma, I know I can start seeing in a week, but I want to wait till the rains. I want to see you, and the rains, on the same day.”

Ma must have smiled, I guess. She agreed. I didn’t have to wait too much, as the monsoon was early that year. 15^th June, it was, I guess. I felt the same strange peace. I knew it was going to rain. I yelled, “MAAAA, remove the bandages, it’s going to rain!”

She got excited, but remained calm and did as was told. She removed my bandages and I saw the face of God. Wearing a simple saree, hair in a bun, bangles as the only jewel on her, she was smiling with tears in her eyes, looking at me. I saw my mom for the first time. Yes, I was born blind.

I cried too and hugged her. And then I ran for the window. 5 minutes was all it took to shower. Yes, I saw a rainfall for the first time. It was magical, the sound I heard, when the water splashed the leaves, was as beautiful to see as to hear. The sight of the mud getting wet was as serene as the smell arising from the same wet mud. Feeling the raindrops fall on the palm was as amazing as watching the rain. I was happy; much more than I have ever been before.

Days passed and I was getting used to this new ‘seeing’ business. The first to sights I saw were the prettiest, but later. No. All I could see was filth spread across streets. All I could see was beggars and lepers crowd around you. All I could see was a crowd always in a rush. All I could see was busy faces having no time for anyone in the world but for themselves. All I could see was the miserable condition of the city.

Was this the reason people felt superior to me? Were these the sights I was jealous I couldn’t see and many others could? Was it because of this that I was always considered handicapped? Yes. It was all this.

I felt like I was choking. This was not what I wanted. If this is what someone gets to see, I prefer being blind. I stopped my medication, despite Ma crying. Slowly, my sight kept deteriorating, until it was finally gone. Ma, was sad, but gave in eventually. The sight of her and one rainfall was enough to keep me contented for a lifetime. I was satisfied. I was convinced. For now, I knew that I was not handicapped. I knew that I lacked nothing. I knew that I was awesome the way I was. For the way I could feel every emotion, the sighted cannot.

Monsoon approached soon. I sat by the window, feeling the unusual peace. I knew what was going to happen. I asked Ma to make coffee. I felt happy, again.

Life, NiOxford way!

My frizzy hair were swaying with the breeze, as I sat on the parapet of the terrace of my 42-storey building, all by myself. Expressionless, I was. The late-night breeze had left my eyes tearless, and my face expressionless. I felt it was talking to me, talking about something very precise, but quite undecipherable.

I knew why I was up there. Fed up of everything, I was. But the breeze, with the hooting of the owl, the moon lighting every bit of the sky, and the glistening stars, all trying to talk to me. But yet again, I failed to understand any of it.

I had a purpose of being up there. And my fate lay below. 650 feet below. One fall would end everything. The pain, the sorrow, the misery, the jealousy, the pressure, everything.

But then again, something held me behind. Fear? No, it cannot be fear. Death didn’t scare me. It was the breeze, I thought. Yes, it is the breeze. It didn’t let me move an inch further. It took me to trance. And the breeze became my master.

Thoughts started circling my head. Starting with my failures, my unsuccessful attempt at things I always craved for.

1. Failure [feyl-yer]

-noun

An act or instance of proving unsuccessful.

How easy it is give up, isn’t it? Not that we do not want to try harder, and how much ever we deny, after a certain saturation point, we give up. For me, it was very easy. Unsettled, you may call my mind. But that’s the way it was. Failing always took a toll on me, be it in exams, or in my life.

I had a lot, but always wanted what I didn’t have, or to put it exactly, what others had. I was jealous.

2. Jealousy [jel-uh-see]

-noun

Mental uneasiness from suspicion or fear of rivalry, unfaithfulness, etc., as in love or aims.

Jealous of others’ happiness, jealous of others’ belongings, jealous of others’ everything. I had it all, but all I always wanted was what others had. Disturbed, I had become. ‘All this is baseless’, my mind would tell me.

But I never paid heed. I knew I have everything, but I preferred to stay aloof.

‘Become a doctor, or an engineer, or this, or that’, my parents would always tell. Pressure, a lot of pressure to stand.

3. Pressure [presh-er]

-noun

Harassment; oppression.

I was always under pressure, from parents, teachers, but above all, from myself. I cannot blame anyone else for what I am into, but myself. The failures, the jealousy, had taken me in. It pressurised me, or maybe, I did.

And only one way seemed open, to end it all. Finish me.

All these were the things I thought, before I decided what I wanted to do. And I was clear. But my master, the breeze, despite of making me think the same again, didn’t let me reach my fate. Perhaps, it wasn’t. Thoughts started circling again, but they were not the same. Black had gone; it was the time for white. No, I am not being racist here, just using to symbolise the darkness and light. It showed me the times I was happy.

1. Happiness [hap-ee-nis]

-noun

Good fortune; pleasure; contentment; joy.

Do you remember the time when you first rode a bicycle without anyone’s support? Or when you were able to spin the ball for the very first time? Or when you held a small kid in your arms? Or when you played the game of your life? Or when you saw the smile you loved? Happiness. There are so many small things which make you want to live for a thousand years, but yet, when you most need them, you can’t think of any.

Was I loved? Yes, I was.

2. Love [luhv]

-noun

A feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, as for a parent, child, or friend.

My parents loved me, no doubt. I know they scolded me, but for my own good. My friends, they loved me too! The laughter, the pranks, the shouting-in-the-middle-of-the-road moments, the getting-caught times, the pure relation of friendship. Did she love me? Yes. More than I ever asked for. Selfless love, I would say. But then again, when you don’t want to see the diamond in the coal, you just can’t.

But when I see it the other way, my life wasn’t that. It was full of diamonds, with one dark feeling of the coal overpowering me.

3. Exhilaration [ig-zil-uh-rey-shuhn]

-noun

Animation; joyousness; jollity; hilarity.

The feeling you get when you bungee jump, or when you sky dive. The feeling you get when you face a huge wave of water, or climb a mountain. These are the things taking you just inches away from death, but are the moments to live for! I live for these!

It is always said, that if you keep one spoilt fruit with other ripe ones, the ripe ones, sooner or later, get spoilt too. So often, the ‘Lucifer’ of your thoughts overpowers you, and makes you want to do things, things which always seem the easy way out, but in actual, leave behind scars in our existence. The breeze, for me, came as ‘Michael’ and ‘Gabriel’, throwing the bad into the ‘Pit’ and saving me.

Trance faded, and I was in my senses once again. The early morning sun accompanied with the chirp of the birds, welcomed me. I was still on the parapet.

‘What was I thinking? This is not me, this cannot be anyone’, I thought. I just smiled, and went back home, back home to answer my parents about where I was.. Scolding, I would surely get. But then again, I deserved it.

Life is too precious. When we see people dying in floods, terror attacks, wars, we feel bad. So how can we compel ourselves to do something like that? The giving up thing I said, it’s true. But such small things give us the courage and the patience to deal with them. Even though we feel alone at times, we are not. There’s someone always looking on us, our Michael, our Gabriel, our GOD.

Life [lahyf]

-noun

Well, it’s personalised, the way you want it!

Believe in Him, He won’t let you down. He gave you life, He will direct it. Don’t end it yourself.

One night in my 2 years of bliss..

LOVE.
What is love? Well, if you ask me, I have no clue as to what it is. Or maybe, I guess I do.
The last 2 years before teenage. That’s when I came across a feeling, a feeling new to me. It was something I had never gone through before. It was bliss.
It was bliss of LOVE.
And the girl? Well, she was the person I guess I knew the best. My first friend, my best friend.
I never told her, and I guess she never knew about it.
But then came the night. The night when only the 2 of us were together. It was the night I will remember all my life. It was the best night in my 2 years of bliss.
We were childhood friends. Always together.
But that night changed it all.
I was an 11-year-old, a spoilt brat, a kid who wanted everything as he wanted it to be. She was 11 too.
The day was horrible. As usual, wanting everything as I like, I had a tiff with Ma about dinner. We were expecting some 10-12 so-called sophisticated guests and Ma wanted to make them something sophisticated. I wanted her to make pani puri.
Sophistication. I so hate it. Being the kind of a person who wants to get married wearing shorts and a t-shirt, I never understood ‘sophistication’.
I cried and cried and cried and convinced Ma to make pani puri. Pa. How on earth to convince him now? But having Ma on my side, it wasn’t difficult.
Finally, the evening arrived. Pani puri was ready. Ma, rather embarrassed to serve pani puri to her home-coming ‘sophisticated’ guests, was feeling anxious. She sometimes over-exaggerates, so it was understood.
7.30 pm. The phone rang. It was S******, and I guess you might have understood that she was the girl. She was alone at her place. She went on, “Hey ******, come over, and we will have soup together!” She was important to me, but the tempt of pani puri was simply scintillating. I answered, “Am a bit occupied right now, guests at my place plus pani puri. Maybe soup some other time.”
There was a break in her voice. She was a bit sad. Don’t know why, but I didn’t want to see her sad.
I sighed. I said, “Am hungry. Can we cook something too?” She was like, “Sure! We will cook rice. I have a ready-to-eat pack.” I could sense the ecstasy in her voice.
Without telling anything to Ma, I charged out of the door. We lived in the same building, a few floors separated us. I reached her place in a jiffy. She was alone, and I guess a bit scared. She gave me a small hug on seeing me. I was surprised, well, kind of. It was unexpected.
She was gleaming. Don’t know why, but I was feeling something. It was not fear, certainly not. I cannot define it, but it felt good.
We went for her kitchen, and cooked. She made soup, I made ready-to-eat rice (though there was nothing much to make in it. Hello, we are talking about ready-to-eat!). We made, we ate.
It was 8.30 pm, I guess. I realised that Ma had no clue as to where I was. Pa would be home any moment. I went for the phone, called Ma, and said, “Ma, am out, will be back soon, don’t worry.” Bang. I kept the phone. Luckily, my phone did not have caller ID. Whew!
We sat on the sofa till 9.30ish, talking about our daily routine. The feeling I was having was getting stronger by each passing nano second. Jees! Don’t know what got into her, she held my hand, took me to her room.
****Now now people, I was only 11, and so was she. And when we were in school, there was no sex education for students of 6th grade. So please, don’t jump to conclusions****
It was dark. She didn’t bother switching the light on, but switched on the AC. In about a few seconds, the room was visible. She lay down on the bed. I was standing there like an a**hole. She told me to do the same. And I did. There we were, two 11 year-olds, laying down on the same bed, in the dark.
We just lay still for a few minutes. Then my hand went into hers. She didn’t mind. We just lay there, talking. The feeling was intense now. I wasn’t in a state-of-mind to realise what was going on. So, I just lay there, holding her hand. We were facing the ceiling. All of a sudden, she turned, facing me, rather staring. I did the same. We smiled. It was different. I saw the smile I loved.

We lay there, smiling at each other, NOT realising the time.
It was 12.30 am. TWELVE-THRTY!! I let go of her hand. She asked me what was wrong. I just showed her the clock. She asked nothing else. I ran for the door, she was coming too. I was putting on my chappals, she was standing. I saw her, she was seeing me. I turned and opened the door, but she held my hand and stopped me. I turned around. She gave me a kiss.
****Woah!!****
I smiled back, and rushed.
My floor, lights on, doors shut. I rang the bell, Pa opened. He stood there, stern. Ma was behind him. They were kind of like a wall, a human wall asking for an explanation. I didn’t bother giving them one. I went inside. They followed. Ma was screaming at the top of her voice. Sounded something like, “****** *****, where have you been? Do you.....” She went on and on. I have no clue till today as to what she was saying. Pa was a mere spectator at that moment.
All I did was – I went to the bathroom, washed my face, brushed my teeth, came out, entered my room, went off to sleep.
Ma and Pa, just gazing.
On the table, there were pani puris, waiting to be eaten.

SITUATION AFTER THAT DAY, FOR TWO LONG YEARS.
I was in love, but no guts to say it. She didn’t tell me anything either. I always wanted to be with her. In football, she always ended up in my team. In cut-the-cake, I always wanted to hold her hand. In hide-and-seek, I always hid with her. In short, all I wanted was HER.

SITUATION AFTER THE 2 YEARS OF BLISS.
She changed, a lot. I was where I was. We didn’t get to meet. My feelings reduced.

SITUATION TODAY.
We are just friends, we end up meeting once a month, I guess. And yeah, she still doesn’t know how I felt for her. She's happy. So am I.

THE PROMISE I MAKE TO MYSELF TODAY, THE 22ND OF OCTOBER, 3.49 AM.
Whenever I meet her next, I am going to tell her about my 2 years of bliss.