Who are you?

People only see sides of us, 5 different people will see 5 different people in you. This is determined by either what they recognise of themselves in you or by how you have treated them. I am fascinated by the people we can be, the people we are and the degrees of separation between the two.

So who are you? How do you want to be seen? What's the story people make up when they see you walk by? Do you have a story you made up about someone? The girl sitting by the phone hoping for a message that never comes? She may seem desperate or maybe she's just addicted to her phone. The boy so hurt by the past that he shuns love completely? Is that the story you've given the chronic bachelor who's just busy living his drama-free life?

I love people watching... giving people back stories, giving them names, character profiles, reasons of behaviour. I'm convinced this is a normal activity that people do. If it isn't, just humour me here please. And that's why I wonder what impression do I give the world? What do you see when you see me? Do you see the pain of my past or the smile my present brings to my heart? Do you see my flashes of loneliness or do I give off a sense of happy singledom? Who am I to you? What am I to you?

But then comes the question of the people we can be. Can we truly change? Marriages around the world end because people get married to the version of their spouse they envision in their heads - whether that version exists or not. I don't think people can fundamentally change at all. At the most they can perhaps modify their behaviour; especially with a little Pavlovian conditioning. (It's a wonder what a bribe can achieve in relationships!)

I try to see the best in people, it works for about 5 minutes and then it all depends on how they've treated me. Being non-judgemental is the hardest, especially since I had a very sheltered upbringing that didn't really prepare me for the real world. So the emotional baggage I carry colours my perception of people. Dubai can force you to see the world differently, especially if you let the world in by making friends from everywhere - from Yemen to Australia.

That girl I see looking out the window? She's just came from Tanzania where she stays with her second-generation immigrant parents. She's got a job with a hotel consultancy and will be travelling around Africa as a part of her job. Now it's turn, who do you see? Make me a story... I'm waiting

Adieu mon amie, je t'aimais bien

Its not something anyone wants to do, but saying goodbyes is undeniable & inevitable.

Some goodbyes are final and come with varying kinds of grief (or relief), while some goodbyes are temporary with a chance (however fleeting) of turning into a hello somewhere, someday.
But what about the goodbyes that we stretch out, like goodbyes that signal end of relationships.

So many of us hang on to some slim hope that what we shared with someone else will survive. We hang on desperately in the hopes of recreating past highs together, while the ghosts of lows haunt us from the edge of memory.

We are addicts who are at the wrong end of the addiction - not riding high on a new buzz but trying every trick to get the buzz back.Love is an addiction at the best of times. This is true for the feeling itself or the idea of it & sometimes, the hope of the feeling is the high itself.

We have millions of songs, books and poems about the grief, loss and sometimes joy & freedom that goodbyes are often accompanied by. There is a bittersweet release in the act of letting go; whether welcome or otherwise. This is an universal phenomenon, wholly complete in its humanity.

But I am letting go of myself, the versions of myself that lived in the past. The girl who couldn't grow up fast enough, the girl who was bullied and abused. That is not to say I didn't have a happy childhood, my parents loved me as best they could, my sister gave me everything she could. But I was just not capable of being the person I wanted to be -- like many tweens and teens both before & after me. I have been many versions of that person, many I didn't like, many I am ashamed of. I guess they are right when they say that childhood is wasted on the young.

It is today as I look back on my mistakes, I am trying to let go of the person I used to be in order to really be what I can be. I am saying goodbye to the small infinities that made up my past and looking forward to the infinite infinities ahead.

I am doing it in part with the help of my job that I love, understanding how I feel about how I look & surrounding myself with people who accept me without judgement. I am also trying to feel less like an impostor who is waiting to get caught. I am learning to like myself and accept my drawbacks and grow on my strengths. Love is still elusive but I am hopeful that if I am lucky to find it, I will be ready for it.

So this is both a goodbye & a hello, a goodbye to the neurosis of the past and a hello to the insanity of the future. 

Miss Misunderstood

I am often criticised for wearing my heart on my sleeve; for being vocal about my beliefs and thoughts. I feel strongly about a lot of things and have a lot of opinions. I am open & honest and don't have much of a censor either.

All of these things & more cause me to ruffle a few feathers. Today was the day people got shot down for having satirical views that made fun of a certain organised religion. What can you make of that? Do we blame religion or just someone's perception of it?

We're living in a world where we start the day not knowing if we're coming back home. People are getting murdered in schools, offices, homes, getting coffee and while travelling. Nowhere is safe and fundamentalists are twisting around in their seats to find ways & reasons to destroy the world's collective sanity.

I have often been asked to delete my status messages, posts & comments because people think I'm crossing the line. But just as often, I get messages from people who agree with what I am posting but don't want to support my views publicly. They don't want to start an argument but also don't want to be seen to have firm opinions.

Who is in the wrong then? Me for having an opinion, the hidden supporters for not being open, those who want me to be calmer about what I say or the people who get offended by a few words online? This is a very complicated world we live in; fueled by greed, money & religion. Out of those three, two are human constructs that were established to bring people together & help humanity. They are now what corrupts the world & are at the core of all that is wrong in the world.

Religion was just a tool to show people the right way to do things, which was then embellished by god who had the power to make things happen and the promise of a happily-ever-after. Now it supersedes anything else on what divides humanity. If following religion is supposed to save our souls, does that mean we've now lost all chance of redemption?

Words in Motion

I went to the litfest last year and was surrounded by authors. They all have stories they want to tell. So many of them know what they want to write next and the ones that will come after. I wonder that's how I know I am not going to a good writer, or is that just another excuse I've found to not be all that I can be.

I like so many different kinds of writing, but I think the trait I admire most is the ability to weave a story. Being able to construct a story about fictional strangers that makes real strangers feel like you know their hearts. I tried writing a story once but got lost in the myriad ways I could treat my character. What would I have her do? What anguish would I make her go through?

I could base the heroine on me but how much? There are many small stories in my history, things that only I know, scars I have given & received -- would they make for an interesting yarn? There are small infinities in my life I haven't yet gone back to, they are just there, in the background, waiting for me to call on them and bring them back to life. But these infinities bring with them the pain of ghosts past, the mistakes I've made, the persons I was trying to be by lying to myself. So maybe they're better off where they are.

Then I could base the heroine in a situation I research about, bring a world to life in the only way I can. But then I have read so much, I keep fearing that I can never be good enough to write the way I would like to. More & more of the books I read lately are books that are derivative and want me to put a lot of work in to follow a story & I'm just not intelligent for that.

All I want to do is write a simple story that is all me & there is a part of me that wouldn't mind it if no one read it (somewhat like this blog). Which brings me back to the crux of this post, what would make for a good story? They say you should write what you know -- that cuts out so many genres or maybe I'm just making excuses for not being creative enough.

Maybe I maxed out my creativity making up the very many lies I told incessantly as a kid. Do liars grow up to be fiction writers? Or are fiction-writers just liars who are being paid for lying?

Emotional scratching posts

Do we all have these? Emotional scratching posts - moments in time you go back to remind you of your biggest smile, or to an epiphany that made your world clearer. In my case, these are the lifelines that stave off attacks of depression or pull me through my lowest points of self doubt. Also in my case, some of these might involve situations that were miserable for others. Yes I do delight in the misery of others; especially if those people have at some time contributed to my misery.

I like the idea of holding on to these high points instead of holding on to grudges. Getting an emotionally uplifting scratch is so much more satisfying than a vengeful stirring of all that has gone wrong.

There are these moments where you need to pause, get off the roller coaster that our lives become. Moments where the world gets too much with us, so much so that all we see of life is a blur where we only see what we want to see. These emotional scratching posts are also great for moments of self-discovery.

Unless you know what truly makes you happy, can you know what kind of person you are? Do you exult at the small moments or the moments you fulfilled a long-held dream? The times where you saw Karma in action or when someone got what they deserved (good or bad)? Or is your ultimate high that minute you heard your little niece's cry for the very first time as she was born?

Then there are the times where I self medicate and look for emotional scratching posts through travelling, shopping and/or sleep. Sometimes looking outward is what the inside needs. To turn towards something unfamiliar can be the diversion our brain needs so that they can go on timeout. Coming back to the familiarity of the real world can feel so much better after a meandering through the unknown.

Dancing with monsters through the night

I've met many of the demons of the past. Some I live with everyday, some are part of me. There are others I struggle to forget and yet others that I struggle to bury in the recesses of my cluttered brain. I mostly succeed & living in denial of these demons works on almost all days.

But every once in a while, they refuse to be pushed down & I have to face them head on. And invariably, I become the person I was when those demons first overwhelmed me. Its like a unwanted surprise trip back in time. I remember my vulnerabilities & become my insecurities & fold into myself. Its not something I have any choice or will power over; because if I did, trust me I'd choose any other mental disease over the threat of these demons.

Its easy to judge me; I wear my heart on my sleeve. I will do anything for you if I like you & I will gently excuse myself from your life if I don't like you. I am open, honest to the point of rude & straight forward. But that also means I can't maintain a charade of things being right when they're not. I will still be smiling but I will have no idea who the smile is aimed for. 

Even today, I know the world is still spinning as it should with everyone trying to kill everyone else. But in my head, I'm back in college as an insecure girl with ambition but no plans or goals. Being taken advantage of, being lied to, being naive and not caring about how easy it is to get your heart broken. I'm battling my demons of the time I was in an abusive relationship because I thought that was what I deserved. 

But we're all older & wiser now, or atleast we pretend we are. Imagination is a tool that comes in handy when you're trying to rewind & play & fast forward the video tape that is your life. 

Enough is a Feast

A conversation I had recently got me thinking of excess and how very intrinsic that idea is to Dubai. But what if 'enough is a feast'? What if this constant search for more is the reason why the world is so much lesser happier nowadays? Was it a simpler time because we accepted the spouses we were arranged to marry weren't going to be perfect and that compromises would be necessary? Or because we used to accept that love wasn't going to be all doves and unicorns and rainbows.

Its easier to lose yourself in the quest of wanting more. The rat races, the dog fights, the constant up-manship, the games of control just seem to come so easily to so many of us. And isn't that how love stories work today?

"Never meaning what they say, yeah never saying what they mean."

Everybody is always trying to get the upper hand in a relationship; as if emotion can ever be played around with. Everyone is so scared of getting hurt and losing everything that the only currency they can deal in is fear.

We're all on this huge Monopoly board but we're playing the game blind. We're hoping against hope to land on Mayfair or Park Lane before someone else does but knowing in our hearts that we'll probably get Old Kent Road instead. Or, as in my case, get stuck in Jail. We see others buy up the properties we want, but we keep playing, wanting to see how much we can win... or if we can win at all.

But can enough ever be a feast? At what point does a person feel content? Or is contentment just a myth like other myths perpetuated by the fairy tale industry? I come close to that feeling very often but then a small glimpse of love between parents, children and lovers can push me back into the abyss of wanting more. That I suppose is more a glimpse of my humanity than my faults.

I have a lot to be thankful for, but I think it is time I wake up to my reality, the reality that I will always be the person who will keep looking and hoping for more. I will always be glancing around the corner and expecting love to just show up someday. And I've heard hope floats... which is good because I can't swim.