Onwards towards regrets

Heat waves

Spiral in the sun

Red clouds

Come undone

Sea of sand

Oceans in still life

Change without changing

Move in all directions

The past in your head 

The future in your hands

The life you left behind 

Pushing you onward 

-- Jason Eisenmenger 'Mojave'

Whether it is the fear of history repeating itself that drives you, or running away from the past or even the determination to 'never go hungry again'; the past is always present in our future. Take That sang about never forgetting where they're coming from and Beyonce sang what goes around, comes back around. Whatever genre of music tickles your fancy, the past is always too much with us.

There are these constant struggles within when my memories threaten to become my reality and I have to shake my head in an attempt to reboot. Sometimes this works, the other times I have to shake some more or shut down for a while. I don't want to be the irresponsible girl anymore. I want to grow up, have consequences, be answerable, take control and have regrets because of the decisions I have made.

They say the best life is one without regrets & I've always been proud of never having a single one. But on the flip side is the fact that regrets happen because you took firm control of your life and dictated terms. Don't regret usually stem from the fact that you stood up for your convictions and didn't get the best outcome? Atleast you stood for something, even if it was during a movie and everyone was yelling at you to sit down again.

I have always made decisions thinking that if I don't do this or that, I will regret it in the future. But now, I am beginning to see the idea of short-term regrets and long-term payoffs. I refuse to just let go of my past, I want to carry those experiences and regrets with me as I try and mould my own future. I know in the bigger scheme of things, one human life is hardly worth a footnote, but it is the story of my life. I want to make sure that I do the very best with it, because who else will? 

I know these foot prints I leave behind are in a sea of sand but atleast I will always knew they existed.

Plus size or plus one

I think I'm a good catch. I'm intelligent, well-read, interesting with a good job and am even mildly well-adjusted. And I know the answer to the most inane and arcane trivia. I mean I would be the friend everyone calls during the phone-a-friend hint of who wants to be a millionaire. But what I'm not is happy with the way I look. I say that with an air of not caring when I distinctly do care.

What am I doing about it? Nothing. And as I continue doing nothing, I also continue to feel that my real life (as it could be) may be passing me by. But reality seems to be just out of reach. I feel like I'm a toxic and potent combination of pickiness, high standards & low will power. I also have a lot of second hand experience with relationships all around me that go nowhere really fast.

Everyone around me is having babies or getting married or crying about how horrible it is to be single or going out with just anyone because they really don't want to be alone. This is my every day. I see the death of hope and the rise of cynicism all around me. But there is always a kernel of hope that stays alive somewhere in the depths of every heart. I know there is one in mine.

I see the world move around me as I stand still like in a video montage. Going out and actually being a part of life feels insurmountable and sometimes it doesn't even feel like its worth the trouble. I see the drama, the misery, the constant pull and tug of people who want more but won't give enough; the hurt of broken expectations and the despair of not being able to let go.

But then there is the rare occasion where I see the magic that sparks into life when you see two people who are everything that people write songs and poetry about. Everything that people look for in the eyes of their casual date or - in my case - in the eyes of anyone interesting who can hold up a sustained and intelligent conversation. Yes, that's how low (or high) my bar is; but as I grow up I notice that intelligent men are a very rare species. Also, men get intimidated by super women or slightly intelligent women and the ones who don't, get snapped up immediately by women who (wisely) refuse to let go.

Is love worth all this trouble & strife? But is that really a question at all considering I am writing about it at 3.49 am?

Games Children Play

You can only know your future when you can see where you've come from. My road to here hasn't been an arduous one in the truest sense & not many books would sell off of it. But it has been interesting.

At home, I was the little girl who was never quite as good as my sister, this was true of school too. I was regularly looked down upon in school until I made my first friend. One of my first memories of school is getting friendly with one little girl who was kinda left out because she was the smartest while I was being left out for being new. That was it.

Another girl then joined in to this duo followed by another making it a quartet. This is the story of two of those girls : they were beautiful, intelligent girls who I always felt slightly dumb around. They were girly with hopes and dreams & fun parents who treasured them. I always felt 'lesser than' but was amazed that they still liked me. They never made fun of me or my shabbiness or my not-so-great grades.

They were good girls, the best kind. They had the true smiles and the genuine hearts. Smiles that didn't stop unless in a hospital bed, hearts that accepted my every flaw. Even when I made other friends, it was the first two that were always home for me. All through my rebellious phase & my weird stunts, they always had a spot next to them for me during lunch.

Their lives moved on and those beautiful ducklings turned into even prettier swans. As I write this, I am aware of how much of me is shaped by them. They were such a big reason I made it through school without a completely broken head and heart. I have blocked so many memories from school because I felt tiny & insignificant (inspite of my girth). Most of the memories I have today is of sharing my lunch with those girls and playing weird lunchtime games, sitting with them during assembly and talking about hating one teacher and loving another.

That life seems a different person ago, a girl who was so determined to never be made fun of again. A girl who was more than just a sum of her parts, a girl who was so inspired by her two best friends that she knew she'd be more than just another girl from Wadala. There are people who inspire you without them knowing why & sometimes you don't really know the reasons either. All I know is that two little girls held on tightly to this little girl's heart & refused to let go. And somehow, that just saved my life.

Both of them are married now and never tell me any of the things people say married people say to single girls. One of them is a mother and I wish everyday her mom was around to see the wonderful woman she's turned out to be. The other remains my shining light, who somehow knows to reach out to me at my lowest & bring me back. I am no longer a big part in their lives but for me, they are my childhood.

PS: Dedicated to Asha Krishnan Bhojani and Smita Sridharan Somani

Do I make you smile?

I see you stopping by. Stay a while, won't you?

What is a storyteller without someone to tell the stories to? I want to make you smile, that kind of smile that bursts across your face when you have a mental A-HA. When you hear something that's so very you that every part of your self identifies with it. All storytellers want to captivate you in, bring you into their parlours, but I want more, I want you to stay a while. Won't you?

Ben Okri once told me, "Once you take away all the fillers, what remains in your writing is your voice." (if you can start off your writing with a Ben Okri quotation, you cannot go wrong. All you have to do after that is hope people read it in a James Earl Jones voice.)

I don't know if my writing has a voice; but I know I have something to say. I have a few war stories of my own, though I usually like to hide them. I'm an introvert at the best of times but more often than not, I'm the most social in a conversation where people are trading experiences. It's simple. I'll show you mine if you show me yours, our stories are our currency. They are the measure of our worth. Most of my closest friends are the ones who inspire me with the rich and varied lives they lead.

Stories are entertainment for those who have longer attention spans than 140 characters. Stories are for those who have a curiosity for the world. There is so much to absorb out there, no one person can do it all. That's why we have books and that's why a storyteller's job is never done. We all want to write our books, have someone play us in a movie. We all want our story told & there are so many stories that deserve to be told.

You cannot sell anything without telling its story. The whole world of business is based on that premise. Everyone needs a human connection, between people, between products, however diluted it may be. There is a reason why everybody checks out reviews before trying out a movie or play or restaurant or even a book. This is why people want to be famous, all they want is to be seen, to be heard, for their stories to be told.

Hear my story. I want you to stay a while. Won't you?

Hindsight canonizes the demons of my past

Ever had a conversation with someone who is delving into your shared past but somehow you're thinking, "That's not how I remember it!"? In my personal opinion, while fact may be stranger than fiction, memories are always so much stranger. They stick around like unreliable & unwanted acquaintances who always seem to be right there, in the periphery of your subconscious.

Neurologically speaking, memories are nothing but a shoot of energy and chemicals. But man, do they hold power over us. A simple scent or a reflection in the corner can take you back decades in a single instant. The trick is being able to know that you can't stay there -- how much ever you may want to. 

That's the marvelous part of hind sight; somehow like magic, you only remember the reasons you wanted to stay & not the reasons you wanted to leave. You remember the funny things they did but not how much they annoyed you. In fact, if you're lucky, you remember the smiles so clearly that maybe, just for a minute, you forget the tears. Sometimes its just so easy to hold on to the best parts of our history & use them to canonize the demons of the past. 

We can easily remember the castles of sand but not how long it took to make them or how they were swept away in the first wave. Isn't that so much easier than reliving the heartbreak & the sadness (which is usually locked away in a different corner of the heart)?

Somehow, for me, the most interesting part of it all is how people seem to remember us. As I grow older I see that people don't necessarily hang on to the last or the best memory of a person. Its usually just a random moment, something said without much thought, something the sub-conscious didn't really register as a landmark at all.

People remember me by something I said to them in school, or by something I did in college or by a weird little remark I made about life. So many times, these examples have not even stuck around in my mind & the fact that they define me for someone else is, in equal parts, unnerving & humbling. 

The memories I hold on to dearly are all about people that have come to my life & touched it in some way or the other. But the best memories aren't always the most elaborate or the most well-planned. It could be a smile, a simple touch or a kind word. As I wrote in a long-forgotten poem once, "Its not about the money, its not about the fame. It is about how many people smile when they remember your name."

No one I know

Celebrities are not really important right? We're considered spaced out TV idiots or sorority chicks if we indulge in checking out celebrity magazines. But many more of us do it than we'd admit. Having said that, I'm not one of the crazy fans that idolizes people but I do like following up on what they do.

I also love TV shows; they're the only thing that keep me company on nights when I can't fall asleep, or when the dark clouds come a-calling. One of the shows that always cheered me up was Glee. Maybe I wasn't a complete G(l)eek but I did love the music, the characters, the storylines & the actors.

All of this has been changed forever though with the death of Glee's biggest star, Cory Monteith. He was just a month older than me with a great & amazing life ahead of him (or so it seemed.) His life story just seems so sad & frayed because of his addictions & stints in rehab. He's been through so much & seemed so brave about it, but its all over now.

Now the fan videos & the remembrance videos & the tweets & slideshows just serve as a reminder of what a beautiful life he had & will never be a part of it anymore. His relationships with his girlfriend & friends seem real & bittersweet in hind sight. Its all gone, just like that.

But things like this don't really happen to anyone we know, right? How many of us are struggling with life everyday? Aren't we all at some point faced with a turn in our life where just a simple "The End" tagline is all we need? I know I have been, more times than I'd like to remember; thankfully having my friends & family around has always shamed me into trying to fight away the darkness.

What of those of us who don't have that? There are too many of us just holding on to the hope of tomorrow; as if that magical word will make it all better; when all it could have are darker storms. We keep turning away from the demons we see around us, pretending that we aren't affected, much like ostriches with their heads in the (Dubai?) sand.

It's easier to pretend all is ok; that all is good. It's always nicer to think that true love is just around the corner & that hope is all we need. All of us want that, don't we? An easy road to happiness, of any kind. But what we actually get is a headful of sand & the ability to just do the best we can & leave the rest up to chance.

I keep feeling that's all life is; a game of luck where true gifts are given to (sometimes) least deserving & all we can do is watch in envy as someone else lives our life. And sometimes, all we can do is stare in shock as someone truly good & noble is the one whose life is being played with.

There has to be some pattern to this madness; or is wishing for that to be true, pure madness too?

London -- where I leave my heart & my money

We all have these places that feel like home even though you're not born there. For me, that's London. I do love the magic that is Paris, but London... that's where I feel the most alive.

I could never afford to live there; unless I had Jon Makinson's job I suppose. But the sheer love for history, the openness of the people, the plays, the shopping & the street markets & the sense of humour all comes together to ensure that this city is where its at.

I've never been able to actually take some time & see the city from a tourist-y angle; so this time that's exactly what I did! While I was still there for work; I managed to go on a bookstore tour around the major stores in London. I feel so humbled seeing where the book retail industry really began and where its almost ending...

I finally got some time to myself & the first thing I did was to go off to the Portobello street market near Notting Hill Gate. The beautiful vintage shops (authentic or not) make me go off throwing my money in people's faces! The Covent street market is another place I give my money away happily; not to forget the life-sapping Harrods! I also got to experience the British Museum & the British Library & of course their gift shops. A Pride & Prejudice bracelet is now my pride & joy. The changing of the guard left me unimpressed; but the Evensong at Westminster Abbey left me in tears. I have never been able to give full justice to the West End plays; but its good that I have something to look forward to I guess. Maybe next time I'll even be able to catch a show at the Royal Opera House?

I also LOVE the food in London, the Spanish, the Mexican, the pastas, Jamie Oliver, the soups, the English breakfasts, not to forget the amazing Chinese! Every meal is a chance for me to try a new explosion of flavour!

Don't neglect to observe the fact that all the other experiences cost money too. But I don't mind, because every part of London is special to me. Everything feels like a memory in the making. Every experience feels like a story that needs to be told. I want to take it all in; brand it on my memory. This ability to travel to my dream city once a year without paying for it feels like a dream that could disappear in a puff of smoke anyday. Till that day comes, I will have to work extra hard to lock away as many memories as possible. Memories that will help me get through lonely days in the future where my books just don't fit the bill.