Who we are

Everything that we are not and everything that we shall ever be...all of it...the entire story is written by the people we meet.

However much we may believe that we create our own lives...it has to be acknowledged that a lot of who we are is courtesy the people we have met.

Some of us have siblings. We grow up with them. Sharing, laughing, fighting and loving each other. Some of us grow up alone. The alone kids have a whole universe within themselves.

I remember my life defining moment. It was when my roommate at college told me that she had got two coffee mugs...one for herself and one for whoever her roommate was going to be.
And yes, it's been 10 years since then...we are still sharing, laughing, fighting and loving each other!

The people we date...and the reason we break up with them... These, kind of, change the person that we were before we met them or broke up with them. Some good and some bad...their influences, their choices, their likes and dislikes...they leave an imprint on us.

The colleagues we make and the work we do...they help us understand what we can never be good at. That in turn helps us figure out who we actually are.

We have values and ideals of our own. The foundation, perhaps, remains same but our values and principles evolve over time. We realise how we really want our life to be and that's what moulds our way of life.

Life is ever changing. We may long of things we have lost but somehow nothing is ever lost. The people you have met and lost have left an imprint on you. We carry all the interactions and relationships inside us...as experiences. They help us grow.

We may be the architect of our own fortune but it's mostly our choices to be with the people we want to be with that defines the way our life turns out to be.

Pretty fascinating...I feel!

Carpe Diem?!

So what do you do when you want to break free and do something new that takes your mind off your troubles and pain...something that manages to set you off along the right path again?

Different people have different coping mechanisms.

Women are known to get a make-over... hair, nails and all of it. A new wardrobe definitely helps them to win the war against all odds.

I generally seek refuge in music and books. Mostly, I just write. That's how this blog came into existence.

I used to a very timid child. Introvert in the very sense of the word. I was a good girl, who obeyed all rules and was filled with shame and guilt when, even by the slightest mistake, some of those rules were broken. I was quiet. I had trouble opening up to people. I didn't want anyone to know me lest they judge me for who I am.

That was eons ago. I do not care about such things anymore. Life has changed me. I am no longer that self conscious shy child. I am no longer an introvert. I talk now. I don't just talk, I express my opinion and views. I am confident and sure of what I am doing. I am, in ways, fearless.

No matter how sturdy an armour we put on, there are moments when we get weak. There are moments when we long for the things we can never get...dreams that we know will never see the light of the day...longings...wishful ones.
I believe, I am the only one responsible for my happiness. I believe, that I am the only one responsible for everything that happens in my life. It makes me feel stronger sharper and definitely not taller (Horlics reference for those who can connect the dots)!
There are things I long for...and I know that reality is far from those things.

I write. When I feel sad about all the things that I am missing out on, I write. Right now I am under this huge #FOMO phase. Hence, this post.

This has been a year of changes...and the way things are going next year will be even more dynamic.
To be honest, I like dynamic. I prefer a hectic life compared to a peaceful one. It leaves me with less time to get into the wishful longings phase.

Sometimes, I wonder if I should stop running. Maybe I pick a hectic life because I am running away from the things that make me sad. Is it just FOMO or am I being an escapist?

Carpe diem... shall I never be able to seize the day?
  

Believe

And so much we could have done,
And so much I did,
The before and after was washed away with the morning tide,
When I faced the Sun and braced the light,
The salt drops on the floor,
The smudges here and there...
Of multitudes forgone, lay the ceiling bare...

Truth beckoned the strength within,
The desire to do more than just begin,
When the days of light cease to live,
All we do is, believe.

Drift Off

I dont have a cubicle. We, that is our team, sit in a cabin assigned to us. It is great for team building and coordinated work...especially in times of crisis, better known as "Production Issues" in the IT world!
I love corners and places that are a little secluded...preferably a window seat. And I have one! 
In the moments between work...I often look outside and let my mind drift off... A random chain of thoughts corner me...and my imagination leads me from one mental image to another...
The below is the result of one such "Drift Off"

A shadow in my day...
A light in my night.
A star in my sky...
Burning bright.
The smile on my face...
My beauty and my grace.
The rainbow after rain...
The touch that could wipe out all pain.

The leaves in the Fall...
The pretty Princess at the Ball.
The frozen lakes...
And all the Christmas cakes.
The wine and the cheer...
All the seasons I held dear.
One at a time... All was gone...
While I sat in the Spring singing my song.

The Smoke and the Hills

The cold wind blew through me...piercing me with its icy spears.... it didn't pain...not the way it used to. I thought ... perhaps its over...perhaps the wounds have finally healed.

I was walking through the rain... the saline drops tasted sweet...
I kept walking through the darkness...

Smoldering remains of a distant dream...the smoke, a mere puff of life...
i waited...still...

and then one morning the sun suddenly shone bright...the brilliance of its light almost blinded my eyes...
the overpowering...over whelming light broke through the darkness...the smoke dispersed...
the wind spoke in my ears...the greens smiled at me...and the birds sang lyrical poetry...
i could feel life rushing through my veins...i could feel my heartbeat once again...
the white cotton clouds floating in the sky.,,gave me wings...and then i felt free...yes, i could really fly...

but the clouds grew stronger...and stronger still... they turned gray...and then black....
they moved ominously across the sky...
the light grew weaker...and weaker still...
the force of life ceased...
the birds chirped...but softly....
the green grew dull against the gray...

the hills in the distance were covered by smokey clouds...the smoldering remains of my long lost dreams...the smoke, a mere puff of life...

A New Me

Life is about changes...so much so that people often say that "change is the only constant"...

Its that time again...
Its time to change.
Darkness beckons me...
and all Light is in vain.

There may be no return...I shall not sway.
I choose to take this path.
The other road, i have travelled much
but have never found a way.

I shall be that part of me...
That which lies somewhere deep.
I'll let my heart unleash its wrath.
yes, I shall take the Dark Path.

The Last One...

some things remain incomplete forever.... perhaps they are meant to be that way... and we have to accept them as such...

the uneasy feeling of incompleteness gnaws our soul...we burn inside in the fire of the desire to be complete again...a desire than can never come true...a wish that is destined to remain unfulfilled forever....
...n still try to be happy...try to live...hoping that some day peace would descend on us...someday our prayers will be answered.

...and then one day....life becomes irrelevant....and the prayer changes...the wish changes....

.....My Prayer...My Last Wish...

".....bring me closer to the End
take me closer to you...
End my pain...

In those last few moments of Life...
I shall find peace...solace...
My wings shall be reborn...
N i shall fly...
Free.
In those last few moments....
I shall find
Me.

I will smile one last smile...
The one smile in so many years...
N the world shall smile at me...
Contentment...on its face.

I shall care no more..
No worldly treasures can touch me again...
I shall be at peace...

In my last breath i shall smile...for
I shall be forever free....
with You near me...

Take me closer to You...
Take me closer to my peace...
Take me closer to the End."

Knowing me

Don't look at me. Look into my eyes. I am not who you think I am. 

I appear to be the way you want me to be...but take a look inside...I am not who I appear as.

In the glow of the Reflection...

A Self is lost.

Under the cover of existence...

Life struggles to live.

And,

In the chaos of Life...

Identity dies a premature death.

Take a look at the person in the mirror...

Is it you? 

Is it the same person who talks to you when you are alone? Is this the person that you invariably entrust with all your secrets? Is this the person who knows your dreams...even sees them with you? 

Or is it the person that the World sees in you...

I ask you...again...is it you?

A sky...as dark as darkness could have made it...

A moon...as bright as light could have made it...

Its a still night...

And a silent shadow hovers near me...

The Shadow of the me that i was...

The Shadow of the me that i wanted to be...

A Shadow is all that remains...

It is all that was ever true...

It is all that could have been true...

I move ...the Shadow follows...

A constant reminder of life's probable possibilities...

The only thing that remains...and is mine...

n will forever be so...

Is my shadow

My shadow is how I see myself...without a mirror...through my own eyes.

The mirror reflection is the me you see...

my shadow is my Truth

...and it follows me.

The Spark

Came across a wiki link that made me feel more than proud of the family i belong to!

I had grown up knowing that my mom's side of the family has a rich cultural and historical background. But to see the facts on a page, on the internet...that too on wikipedia...is quite overwhelming!

My Grandfather, Samir Roy Choudhury, born in the family of Subarna Roychoudhury, the Zamindar of Kolkata, prior to the arrival of the British, was one of the Founder fathers of the Hungry Generation.

About the Hungry Generation, my mom can tell you better stories as i came into the picture much later!!
I was born and spent the initial months of my life in my Grandparents' Patna residence. The environment was always culturally rich. And Post Modern Literature had been an integral part of my growing up years. Like they say, what we see and observe in our formative years...we learn. And these lessons become a part of our very self. It becomes a part of who we are.
So true.

From what i've gathered from the reviews i've got from my valued readers, the effect of these childhood lessons have been reflected in my writings over the years. I distinctly remember the article that i had submitted to the College Magazine...the Teacher Editor had classified it in the category of Post Modern Literature. Knowingly or unknowingly the subconscious works in a way that reflects the learning of our formative years.

Incidentally, my Grandfather carries a notebook and a pen with him...nearly always. His 78 years old self has retained the creative spark...infact the spark has brightened over the years.
On a recent visit to a hospital for a tumor surgery, he had a dream. In this dream he saw policemen chasing a thief. The day he returned home, he asked me for a pen and a piece of paper...any paper, he'd demanded. Urgency clear in his manner and voice. He then quickly jotted down his dream on the paper that i'd given him. Am sure that dream has already developed into a short story or a poem.

Distant memories of a tiny me sitting on a tray, in a Dark Room of our Photography Studio, and watching my maternal uncle work.... of paint brushes and colours lying around and experts editing photographs with them... 1990 didn't have Photoshop facilities!! ......somehow did leave an impression on me.

My first professional work to be published was on the cover page of my Grandfather's publication, a Little Magazine named "Haowa 49" .....infact my design was critically acclaimed. The thing is...i was 4 years old then.

The little that i know and all that i can know has its roots in my family.
I've always been a happy and content family member but today i feel more than proud of my family.

Somehow when others tell you about yourself...you get to know yourself better! :-)

a story and a few questions

Once upon a time, there was a Someone. let us assume that this Someone was a "he".
he wanted to make it big in the world...he wanted to be reckoned with...and most of all he wanted a Name.
A Name that would be his own. A Name that would give him an identity...all he desired was individuality.
He loved to write. He was good at it. Infact, so much so that a few of his writings found place in some of the best editorials in the country. But then...he did not become a writer. he realised that writing will not be able to bring to him the name and the fame that he desired. he left this life...he left his love. He went away in search of Gold. the Gold Rush was on. and he worked tirelessly for his prize. all day he searched for the Gold...and at nights he sat planning his next move. which way down the hill is the Gold mine...which way? He was hardworking. and he kept trying. he searched the entire land...the whole territory. he tried several means to get to his Gold. he put in tireless effort...at times he would feel that this was not meant for him...this was not what his life was meant to be. this was not what he was meant to be. but he remained focussed on his goal. and then one day...he found his prize. the Gold lay gleaming before his eyes. he bent down to pick it up. in his hands the Gold shone like the Sun...he had emerged victorious. he was happy.


then he returned... with hopes and dreams of starting afresh. he started writing again but....his time was now gone. he had quit his destiny is search of something that was not meant for him. he had left keeping his love and life at stake...hoping that it will stay till he returned. he had left his life the day he had begun his quest...and when he returned...all was lost. his pen still carved letters but in his poetry...the rhyme was lost. papers lay stacked on the table...most of them untouched. whatever he wrote he felt that it was not upto the mark. he scratched out line after line...word after word... till he realised what all he had lost.
The Gold remained...locked safely in the locker...and the floor remained scattered with torn pieces of paper. the words that did not rhyme anymore...and the sentences all refused to make sense.


but there was his Gold...gleaming...bright...lustrous. his prize.
he was sitting at the foot of his bed...his pen in his hand...



the above story is based on an observation by a friend who had said... "Good time will come...one day you will be free from all hardships and all pain...but am afraid, maybe by that time a lot may be already lost..."
the statement made can be interpreted in many ways.
Failed personal dreams in attempts to live up to the expectations of the World. 
It may even be applicable in cases of failed relationships.
it may be true in several cases.


Where is the balance in life? Is life not worth taking risks with? some risks may be too costly though... but then where's the fun without some excitement, some adventure? is adventure necessary at the stake of everything we love and everyone we care for? can we not come to a balance? are extremes necessary?


so many questions...
answers...i know none.


lemme ask YOU.....what do you think?

(....Idea by Avishek Roy )