Alive

Breathing, surviving, existing...is not living

I fear

A moment

When time stands still

And yet moves on

When I am stuck

And the world still passing

Unnoticed

Unnoticing

A moment

With nothing to look forward to

No passion

No love

No laughter

No smile

Just me

And countless faces and names

A moment

When I realize

That I exist

But every breath seems pointless

When I can move

But have nothing to move for

When I’m alive

But have nothing to live for

I Just Want to Write

I want to write something

That will shake people to the core

That will make them think and wonder

And leave them craving for some more

I want to write something

That conveys what I really feel

Where people understand what I want to say

And understand that it’s a big deal

I want to write something

That will change the world

Though they tell me it’s not possible

And there doesn’t exist such a word

I want to write something

That everyone will remember me by

Words that they’ll quote and misquote

Even long after I die

I want to write something

That leaves you feeling inspired

That moves you to take some action

Even if you’re completely tired

I want to write something

That manages to break through this dam

Because writing is all that I have

To make you understand who I am

Aim in Life

There’s this memory in my mind, which keeps coming back. And it’s been getting more and more frequent lately.

********

It was a room in a high school – a group of around twenty girls of grades 11 and 12 were sitting there in a circle. There was a teacher – or perhaps a moderator. And a single question: what is your aim in life. It was passed around the circle. Answers were pondered, dreams were shared. Until finally, it was the turn of one of the younger girls – a quiet one, rather lost in the new crowd.

Softly, embarrassedly, she read off a paper: “My aim in life? To be remembered by people in such a way, that every time they think of me, it brings a smile to their face.” With that, she ducked her head, avoiding the eyes of others in the circle, and remained quiet for the rest of the session.

What is wrong with you?! What kind of a stupid aim was that?! she yelled inside her head. Listen to the rest of them…ambition, leadership, love, family, success – these are aims. Making others smile – that’s not an aim!!!

Why can’t it be an aim? It’s what I want from life – to bring a smile to the people around me.

What are you, the happiness fairy?! Seriously, get off the bloody rainbow. Open your eyes. People aren’t just nice to others for no reason.

There is a reason – it makes me happy!

You’re seriously demented. This conversation is over.

Looking up, she realized that people were getting up and moving towards the door. Scrambling up herself, she continued to avoid eye contact as she fumed inwardly at her indecisive mind. Just as she stepped outside, one of the seniors stopped her, smiled softly, and said “I’m sure you’ll fulfill your aim. For what it’s worth, I’m definitely going to smile whenever I think of you.”

Smile

It’s a part of you

In fact

It is you

The happy-go-lucky you

The go-with-the-flow you

The ever-cheerful you

The taking-life-easy you

The refusing-to-be-bogged-down-by-problems you

The smile refuses to leave

It’s been there for so long

That you probably didn’t notice

When it stopped

Being real

But now that you’ve noticed

You can’t keep it there

The effort is just too much

So take that moment

The one that’s just yours

Where no one’s looking

Where no one’s judging

Where you’re free to admit

That sometimes it gets too much

It’s okay to give it a break

And let that tear you were holding back

Finally roll down your face

Now take a deep breath

And another

And if you really need to

Then another

But no more

Because it’s time

To put it back on

And turn around

Your world awaits you

The smile awaits you

It’s a part of you

In fact

It is you

Walk Down Memory Lane

Recently, I was walking by Mota Arcade (I think that’s the name) at Brigade road, and I was struck by a memory of the first time I had been there as a 6-year-old, and how excited I was to step on the escalators there. I think the excitement was less about the escalator, and more about the novelty of the whole experience. That incident took me down memory lane, and I started reminiscing about several of the things that have now become a routine part of my life, but at some point, when they were first introduced, had been such a source of joy.

Here are some of the memories in that list:

• The first time I stepped on an escalator (and took several seconds to successfully land on that first step)
• The first time I ran in the opposite direction of the escalator (and jumped triumphantly on to the other end)
• The first time I went in an elevator (and looked out of the glass doors on the other end, where I could nervously see myself go up)
• The first time I pushed around a shopping cart (initially, my brother and I fought for a chance to push it around. Soon we were fighting to give it to the other person)
• The first time I used a vacuum cleaner to clean the house (and also the last, as the enthusiasm waned, leaving only the chore behind)
• The first time I sat on a plane (and was disappointed to find out that it wasn’t as big as a train)
• The first time I saw a computer (how many of you remember that?)
• The first time I typed a letter on Microsoft Word (and was horrified to realize that hours of laborious typing had only yielded four lines on the printout)
• The first time I was introduced to the internet (and was worried about where we would place it, because the computer table was already filled with the monitor, CPU, keyboard, mouse and printer)
• The first time I saw a multi-storey building (and by multi-storey, I mean over 3 floors) which marked that we would soon be reaching Delhi
• The first time I saw a handset phone (and thought it was incredibly cool, because now I wasn’t confined to one spot in the house)
• The first time I saw a person talking on a mobile phone (and thought that people looked too weird walking around with their hands on their ears)
• The first time I went to a mall (which, I don’t think it qualifies as a mall anymore)
• The first time I saw snow (and spent the remaining vacation locked in a hotel room due to a ‘stomach pain’ *truth was I was just too cold*)

There are several other things I wish I remember, like my first train ride, the first time I jumped into the sea waves, the first time I went to the movie theatre, and many more…but I guess memory lane can only dig out so much.

Rain Dance - Part 2

Two years ago, at Teach for India’s training institute in Pune, I found myself in the middle of a rain dance [see:  Rain Dance] with a bunch of strangers who were enroute to becoming friends. Today, in a completely different part of the country, I found myself in a very familiar situation.

 *****

It’s funny. I was sitting at the steps, watching some of the guys play football, and thinking to myself that I really wanted to join them. But I was held back partly by my own lack of knowing-how-to-kick-a-ball, and largely by my inhibitions.

Never thought I'd actually end up playing.

*****

It was a Friday afternoon

Classes were over

The laziness was engulfing

The wind refreshing

The weekend inviting

Conversations relaxed

The football game, entertaining

The sky was dark

So dark, that
It was hard to tell it was still afternoon
We knew it was coming
After all, it’s Bangalore
It rains all the time
Usually for a few seconds
And if it so decides
Then for a few minutes
A few droplets here and there
 
But today, the sky was dark
The clouds were rolling in
One after the other
Leaving you wondering
Just when they would let go
But they didn’t
They just seemed to pass by
Or maybe
They were gathering reinforcements

Because the moment did come

Not with a few trickles falling down your cheeks
But with heavy drops
Enough to clear the basketball court
Enough to push a surge of people
To the safety of indoors
And enough
To push me in the opposite direction

I have no idea why I did it

But standing in that cramped room
Watching the rain come down in a frenzy
I just knew that the place I wanted to be
Was on the other side of the doors

So just this once

I decided not to care
About the fever
About hypothermia
About the incredulous stares

And stepping out

I could feel every drop drench my clothes
The wind smattering me in the face
Shoes quickly filling with water
The cold numbing my ears
A smile on my face that refused to leave
Excitement that I hadn’t realized was there
Surrounded by half a dozen friends
Friends, as crazy as myself
And most importantly
With a football in my hand

And I kicked it

(Incorrectly, as I was later informed)
And we ran
And we jumped
And we sang
And we yelled
And we fell
And we froze
And in those few moments
I felt so alive
Playing football
On a basketball court
In the rain

It felt great
Knowing, that

The rain dance

Was back again
 

A Purple Lollipop

So in an attempt to overcome my perpetual writer's block, I've enrolled in a creative writing class in college. So, chances are, my next few posts are going to be mainly fiction. This particular one was a paragraph written around the prompt "A purple lollipop".

The mission was simple: get to the target before the enemy. As his eyes surveyed the corridor, he found several candidates that potentially matched the enemy description. But he wasn’t too worried, because his keen and experienced eyes had already locked upon the target. It was lying innocently on the ground, as though just waiting to be stepped on by an oblivious person in the crowd. Luckily, such a catastrophe had been avoided thus far, but he knew better than to count on luck. He carefully made his way towards the target, ignoring the glare of the sun reflecting off its surface. Almost there, he thought to himself. Stopping less than a foot away, he bent down slowly to pick it up, trying not to attract attention. Just as his fingers were inches away from their target, he felt the earth shift from under his feet and found himself in a firm hold in the air. “Calvin, how many times have I told you not to pick up food from the ground!” shouted the voice that resembled his mom’s, and before he could protest, he saw a hand swoop down, pick up the purple lollipop, and throw it into the nearest bin.

Inspired from my slowly-becoming-favourite character of Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes :)