Sunday, July 18, 2010

I can learn to do it

I’m moving from one place to another at a pace, that everything around me is becoming a hazy picture to me, even those pictures that I personally sketched. The changes are too many. I’m following my heart now more than ever. Just focusing on the fact that my family is important, if I put my heart to it, I can do anything, and I can do it.
Total disregard for opportunity cost… just the fact that my dad did it, and I can make it too. In the end, no regrets, because she showed me that it’s not worth it. Just not worth losing out on family for ANYTHING. So I’m going back home. I’m going to guard what my dad strove so hard to develop and I’m going to give shape and size to my dream. I’m going to make it tangible. One thing that is helping me holding on, believe myself amidst all the uncertainty is a promise … not exactly a promise, my word, that I gave to her long ago, saying I’ll become famous one day.
If he can learn to do it, I can, after all, I have his blood and hers. So I’m going to be doing what they both did, come back to family, start something that I can call my own, make use of my full potential, not settle for what I can get, but go for exactly what I want, in the end, if I’m not able to get it completely, I still want that realization to strike only after I know I’ve explored eve

So much to do

So much to do, will I do it ?
All my dreams are in front of me, they’re calling me, just beyond the door.
Classic choices: Stable income in a job I don’t like much Vs. Following my long term dream, making it real, but filled in a world of uncertainty.
I just saved this doc., the name option given was “So much to do”, the question wasn’t there. Guess that answers it, there is no question, so much to do, and I will do it. I have to. Because I’ve always wanted to.

Rain in Hyderabad

I don’t like the rains here, where I’m staying alone. It is beautiful… the long stretch of road between my office and my home. Some of the best land-scapers of the country have probably worked on various pieces of land that are on that road. There is no lack of greenery. It’s beautiful. It’s interesting how much of what we perceive is determined by the state of our minds.
They say beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder, but I guess it lies more so in the state of mind of the beholder. If I were with someone… My sis…my dad…chachu… Gita…Sugie… or any of my friends…, I know I would’ve been grinning from ear to ear, looking up to the rain, and probably dancing too. Today, I was sitting in the middle of the seat of the auto, trying to make sure not even a drop fell on me, and all I wanted to do was curl and cry. For reasons I don’t even understand. Probably for every thing I’ve ever wanted to cry about.
When People used to say that they hated the rain, and it only brings sad memories, I used to laugh and think that it’s absolutely not possible. Now, Unfortunately, I can understand. I’m so glad I’m going back home. I’m one of those people for whom home means more than anything else in the world. Home is not a building, it’s a place I go to, knowing that there, I am completely accepted for who I am. They might want me to change somethings I do, but they wouldn’t want to change me. There, I belong. Belonging is such a nice word. Like a big bear hug from a friend.
It was so beautiful…and I could feel was loneliness. This is not the place for me.
I would like to come back though. Walk the entire stretch of that road, hand in hand with someone though. I wonder of daddy will make it at the end of July. I hope he does. He’ll love that road. Almost every big brand that’s worth working for, have their stamp there. He’ll be proud that I work there too. He would probably bombard me with ten thousand facts about each of those organizations, out of which I would remember only about a tenth. But he would be there, he would hold my hand when crossing the road and he would be able to admire the foot ball ground and the tennis court as a proficient sports man, and admire the companies as an eminent business man.
If I were walking with my mom, she would mostly admire the beauty of the entire scene, the road, and how good it would look if painted… she’s got one of the best artist’s eyes. She would also take one look at my office and start calculating the number of people who would fit in there, and the shapes that are there. Then both my mom and dad would have a discussion about the building, my dad giving a civil engineering perspective, and my mom a mathematician’s. What perspective would I be able to give? The insider perspective? :P I would probably be reeling off every statistic I know about the place, trying as I always do to make them proud.
As I always have… always will. I still haven’t found my perspective yet. It’s too much of dreamer’s, who believes anything is possible, it probably is. I plan on finding out.
I’ve not been liking the rains too much here. I wanna go back home so I could remember and write about all the beautiful things I noticed about the rains at Hyderabad. The roads that go up and down, and the water flowing along them. The view from the previous office, where they had slanting glass, and the rain could keep you addicted, sitting and staring forever. It always gave me a mental picture of woman silently shedding tears because someone had walked away. She either couldn’t or wouldn’t stop that person, but cries because she wishes they hadn’t left. Opted to stay.
Or the view from my cabin, where it feels like the rain has enveloped the whole building, Like the clouds descended on us… 7th floor... South Tower…facing the road that leads away from the side of my house… there’s a lake in the distance.
I caught the sunset from the foot of my building once… the street lights were on, they are in the shape of a T, designed in a way that combines both the oriental lamps and modern steel, white light, a long stretch of well laid road, with not too many vehicles on it, and the road has a better look as it’s on a slightly hilly terrain. The sun was sitting to the left of my office building, Orange…fierce… the light reflected of the glass. No match to the white light coming from the street light, but somehow they quietly complemented each other. The breeze was just a tad on the heavier side of gentle. I just stood there staring. Not a thought in my mind … so very peaceful. I wonder how many had stopped and taken a break from the hustle and bustle to look at that view.
Today, as I was coming home, and the rain was falling in a slanting angle because of the rain, so many things looked postcard perfect. Moments, worth capturing … A black BMW which took a swerve and sliced through the rain, A fiery red bike, with black streaks, parked on its side stand, under the fresh green of a tree in front of a beige building, Green and white umbrellas strewn close to black gate, with water dripping from the grills of the gate…Pink Cherry Blossoms fallen on the road…
The symbol of Taureans is the Earth. Pretty obvious isn’t it :P
I still don’t like the rains here at Hyderabad …

The nights are the hardest part of the day.

The nights are the hardest to get through …
Even if you can sleep most of it away, the minutes before you finally doze off feel like ages.
I’m stuck here so so far away …
People tell me I left too soon, I know. They probably, if at all, miss just me, I miss everyone… and I can feel it. The numbness setting in. It probably already did. The feeling of helplessness, and the feeling of having to let go, with no choice, that I force myself to not think of what I had to leave behind, forcing myself to be numb, because, if I did think of it even for one minute completely, I would be weeping, and it hurts. Like now…
It’s not fair… Every time I leave, I have to leave so much more behind.
All the time on my own does not help… if I had moved into a hostel, well, I would’ve hated it… not understanding the language… sharing a room. So is this better? The grass is always greener on the other side? No… I would’ve still been as terribly lonely as I am now…
All this time, all the time to myself… me and my thoughts. Thoughts of what was, and what could’ve been. The only person I’ve been able to think of the “What-could’ve-been" scenario is ....
I know he would’ve made sure I’m always happy, kept me happy and loved me and been my rock, like he always has been. The guy couldn’t see me even almost cry, of course he would’ve taken care of me! … But no… not feasible. My excuse to myself? His teeth… how stupid is that right ?!?!
Actually, I can’t do that to him. I remember when we first got together 2 years back… I was so happy, so in love, I used to keep grinning just at the thought of him. Or his name, or “AJ” on car registrations… I was so ridiculously happy. Then, just when I modified what was probably my longest most concrete plan ever, he said no, we should drop it. And we did. It was objective. It was the right thing to do. I cried, I cut off my hair. We’d dropped it because he had dropped my heart, and I didn’t object, I thought I was ready for it, I thought I was strong, but the strength came latter.
After a year, the next summer, I finally thought I could I ask him, how he had told his friends, and he said “Vendanu sollitaen da”. That’s it. That’s all he had said.
That’s when my heart shattered. When I realized that he had dismissed it so easily, when all my other friends knew that he was such an essential part of my life. I might not have been second priority, but back then, I didn’t matter enough to even admit to his friends that it had hurt. Because, like he said now, it didn’t hurt then.
My solid rock had crumbled just alongside as my heart shattered. That’s why I had to say no… one part of me hates him for making me cold again. Making me realize that loving too much had always been my problem, and I’m not going to do it again till I know FOR SURE. Which I highly doubt I will ever be. That is his fault. Or because of him. However you want to put it. He’s still my best friend, but not someone I know would never hurt me. I thought he was, then I realized, a bit too late perhaps.
He told me that what he liked best about me, and fell in love with, was that I had held on. Even through all those years, he didn’t realize that he had shattered what I had held on to with just one statement made to someone else.
Here now, when I’m all alone, I wish he were there. But I know deep down, that when he does come, I do think of him as the guy who completely shattered my broken heart to tiny smithereens. It’s probably not because of him, but because of what happened that I’ve become cold again. Everything that happened… Prasanna’s back stabbing… Rex saying no… Nitin’s Possessiveness… leaving home… became easy to deal with. Too easy! I’m able to be their friend to most parts, and feel almost no hurt for more than when it’s really happening. Irony was, it was because of that, that saying no to him was much much easier that I was afraid it would be. I was so worried of hurting him… and I was so worried about him even after, but when he said that one good thing was “Innum gethoda I’ve never been rejected innu friends kitta solluvaen” I stopped being worried about him. I miss him. But I’m not sorry that he’s sad now. It was really tough for me to say no. But if he just felt that he never said it, thank god, then good for him. He can live without my empathy.
I don’t hate him… I like him, I love him as my friend. Just like I love Rex and Nitin too.
I’m kinda starting to get the feeling that I won’t ever be able to love anyone properly…completely. I will always be waiting for him to walk away, and I would always be saving a little part of myself, unfortunately the most important parts to myself, so he wouldn’t have broken those when he leaves. That is coldness. I would think more objectively right from the beginning, because people think checks and balances when they are angry, so why wait till then? Consider all alternatives when it’s still sunny. So you’ll at least have an umbrella when it rains.
The problem is, it’s going to suck. If it goes on like this, I, not thinking of my friends…like really thinking of how much they mean to me, then I’m going to lose everyone. I’m going to end up alone, because I just kept preparing to be alone… Damn.
Why’d you go?
The nights are always the hardest to get through.

Dreams versus reality. In its truest form.

After the whole episode of “is it or not?”, “to pursue or to turn away”
After finally deciding that …

Some dreams are not meant to come true
They are just not meant to
When they touch reality
Become real, they change
Some dreams can’t survive reality.
Dreams which do survive reality are like bubbles that land.
Land so gracefully, that they’re still complete
Softly touching the ground…
Having a surreal feel of dreamy reality to them
Because that's exactly what they are.
There are some other dreams,
Which can land, and land
But they are like those bubbles that only survive half way
One half is muddy, dirty …
The colours are murky.
And the bubble doesn’t matter anymore,
The mud will eat it up till one day,
It eats up the bubble,
And the bubble bursts…
Into a thousand minuscule droplets
Disappearing into nothing
Except a few drops …
A few tears.
Some dreams are meant to be just dreams
That’s where they are the safest.
You can visit them
Enjoy them
Then come back to reality
Hard reality.
Some dreams are just not meant to be…
That’s probably not the one for me
Never will be
So, from a distance I shall see
Sometimes with sadness, sometimes with glee
Because it is my bubble
But, it will only be my bubble
Nothing more
Just another bubble in my sky
Among the numerous others that fly….
Because this one too
Was just not meant to be.