The Funeral March

The Funeral March played on...
I walked silently with the crowd.
It was a bright sunny day.
The winter wind battled with the pristine shroud.

The aisle was long.
The way to the altar was longer still.
Twice I was to be given away.
Twice had I been turned away further still.

They marched through the meadows...
They marched through the hills...
They marched through the shadows...
They marched through barren lands and streams.

The funeral march played on...
I walked silently with the crowd.

There were flowers and they burned incense...
The stink of death and sorrow filled the air.
I was stale and I had wilted...
The wind blew through my unkempt hair.

Was it me they were mourning or was I mourning my dreams?
The crowd was filled with faces that I had never seen.
Their touch was cold... or maybe it just wasn’t as warm as I had been.
Was this the loss of me or was this my loss... I was lost, I could not feel.

Was it me they were mourning or was I mourning my dreams?

The funeral march played on...
I walked silently with the crowd.

— written on a winter afternoon with an overcast sky

Warmth and high

Plastic cups lay strewn around. Drinks spilt on the progressively fading carpet had started to dry up on their own. The stink of ashes on the make-shift trays made the air stale. Left over pizza lay unattended on the coffee table in the living room. There was silence all around as the fairy lights blinking their way into dawn.

She sat curled up on her balcony...her blanket tightly wrapped around her.
The city, from her 10th floor apartment, looked so beautiful as it came alive.
The cool breeze made her shiver ever so slightly.
It felt cold...inside and out.
As the high of the previous night gradually left her...she knew that warmth would perhaps never be hers. She tightened the grip on her blanket, her sole companion.

Clockwork

To be able to reach out. To want to know.
Somewhere lost in the crowd.
Alone and scared.
Looking for a way to make it seem worth the while.
Lacking in conviction...yet pushing ahead.

I blame the heads bobbing up and down in the crowded station.
I blame the trains that are never on time.
I blame the alarm clock for not ringing loud enough.
I blame the system.
At the end of the day, I take the fall.

Like clockwork I move. We move.
Each movement accurate. The data sheet smiles.
My name, my identity, my being...it's been compromised.
I know my fate. Stations. Heads. Trains. Clocks.
Mornings will be the same.
Nights will be the same.
Afternoons will be the same.
I will break apart and be put together all the same.

Hammer the clock. Jump the line. Let the alarm ring louder than ever.
Run off.

Peace eludes still.
We are used to our clockwork moves.
We are prisoners within.

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?
  

The Journey of Loss

He said..."it's all over."
She cried all night. She checked her phone every few minutes. She almost dialled his number a couple of times. She spent her nights in sleepless dreams. Her mornings were lost in dreary wakefulness. Every breath she took reminded her of him. Everything around her had his touch. She felt lost...alone in her pain.
Months later...she saw him in the lift at her workplace. She barely glanced at him. Her world had moved on.

"It's all over"...her son told her over the phone. The words did not register at first and when it did, her world crashed around her.
Years and years of memories...every single moment of the last 52 years.
Questions flooded her heart and mind...
How could he not be here anymore. How is it possible that I will never be able to touch him again. Who will I talk to at night when the world had drowned in sleep. Who will I wake up for in the mornings...who will share my cup of tea.

The habits and nuances of the years gone by...every word ever spoken...the dreams they had seen together...their smiles and joys... everything that was theirs was now left with her. He was gone...she would never see him again.

Her children sat with their arms around her...her grand kids sat nearby. He was there among them all...yet his journey has changed direction... he was in peace now.
And her life would never be the same again.

~ The Journey of Loss

In the memory of lost loved ones.

Colours

Oh the vivid colours that adorn thee, Life.
The myriad shades of joy and gloom...
Of the shades and the brightness of the open skies and clouds...
The multitudes in grey that in the minds bloom.

Of lustrous green pastures and happiness galore.
Of the blue grey green seas and the waves that had drowned us times before.
Of all the red pink purples that colour the sky and the heart.
Should have known of all your hues from the start.

Of tears ... Some of mirth.
Of smiles... At times in grief.
Of those eyes that smile inspite of the storm inside.
Of shattered fame and broken pride.
Of the rain drops that wrench out memories from the soul.
Of the sunset that sets longing out...
Makes us seek within ourselves till we feel whole.

Of all the colours that are all black grey and white...
There are these in-between ones that may be or may not be bright.

With each year...a new hue appears
And each hue splits in further shades.
Daggers and saws
Knifes and blades.

Oh Life, thou art beautiful.
Your colours fill me with wonderous joy.
Oh Life, thou art colourful.
Let's sail the ship... Sailors, Ahoy!

Astral Us

For all the pretence and the longing for reality...
We got caught somewhere in-between...
A limbo of sorts.
Disconnected hearts...aching souls.
Fragile minds ripped apart by influence.
Like a plague it has spread ...
Over, above and across.
When we got used to this way of life we will never know.
But we did.
And our souls were trapped in some parallel universe.
Like astral projections...awake only when we sleep.

The Idiot and The Educated

My sincere apologies to The Idiot.

The Educated might give me a look…one that reads “Seriously! Do you need to do this?”

Education is a bag full of books. Education is weekly tests, unit tests and term tests.

Ask 10 random students on any random street why they are studying. 8 will tell you that a good education ensures a good job. The other 2 might grow up to be Research Fellows in reputed Institutions!

I am not a Research Fellow. Maybe, I could have been…but I am not. We will shoot off an altogether different tangent if we followed this train of thoughts now.

Let’s just get to the point.

The IT professional has a pretty stereotype life. System, code editor, outlook, coffee, occasional text from that guy or girl you are dating, periodically checking the groups put on mute to see if something exciting is lined up for the weekend. That’s it. Some 9.5-10 hours of such randomness and you are done for the day. If you are lucky to have a manager who believes in the minimum working hours policy, you may get to go home early.

Home is equally monotonous. Food, sleep, book, phone, sleep some more. If you are interested in cooking…add one more item to the aforementioned list.

Three years of a lifestyle as sedentary as this and you are sure to turn into the much hyped and over publicized Idiot.

My sincere apologies to The Idiot. Again.

All the Oh-so-important things that these universities and colleges make us cram into our heads during the semesters and all those industrial trainings, certifications and whatever-whatevers that we do to fill up our semester breaks…all of it…all of it…just leads us to the abyss called professional life.

You are so doomed to turn into an Idiot the moment you step into it.

Being a Bachelor in Electronics and Instrumentation Engineering, I currently hold the position of a Software Engineer. Irony? No. That’s how it works here!

I have forgotten how a Push-Pull amplifier works. I have absolutely no memory of Control Systems and Circuit Theory. I vaguely remember something called Bode Plot and Laplace.

So what is it that I know?

I know how to google. I know how to read and understand codes…in whatever language it may be. I know how to pretend that I know everything. I know which error message means what and exactly what will make the error vanish. Oh yes, did I mention, I can manage my juniors, assign tasks to them and get the same completed. I can also politely battle with vendors/clients and come out victorious at the end of the day.

Wow! That did make me feel like I was filling up the annual appraisal form.

Doesn’t Appraisal rhyme with Hike!! I like the effect!

The specifics that I had studied in school are long lost.

I still remember certain facts and pointers. Like, Khudiram was the first martyr of the Struggle for India’s Independence. I remember Iltutmish, he founded the Delhi Sultanate. I also remember a reference to the Slave Dynasty. Nothing more…nothing less.

Charlemagne was this French King who united most of Western Europe during the Middle Ages. There was some reference to France and Germany as well. That’s the most that I remember about him from School anyway.

The Nile basin, Thames…Ukraine…which crop grows where and what are the ideal conditions for growing the same. I have no memory whatsoever.

I dreaded Chemistry. Carbon spooked me out totally. Versatile indeed!

I remember the little fellas…Periplaneta americana and Bufo melanostictus. The names fascinated me. But my interest ended there. Of course, I remember very little about them. Heart partitions, some exoskeletons, endoskeletons and external appendages.

That was school for me.

And then there’s Physics. The love of my life.

One of the reasons why I took up Engineering was Physics.

But how much have I progressed in it since I became a Software Engineer? Blaaaah.

Thanks to the sedentary lifestyle and the inherent desire to just sleep during weekends and off days.

That makes me an Idiot. Once educated, now dumb.

I do feel like going back to some School for further education. Like an MS in Physics or Economics. I am good with Data and Analytics. I could Major on that.

Education is a strange phenomenon. It teaches you 12000 things of which most students remember just 0.25% or less …which is close to some 30 or so odd things. These things will mostly be those that somehow stood out…something that affected you in some way…you may have some memory associated with it…something completely random perhaps. In most cases people remember nothing worthwhile.

23 years of life devoted to Academics and all you remember are things personal to you and what appealed to you. Wow!

Life is an irony in itself and so is education. What remains intact is perhaps our sense of not knowing something. That is persistent…all through life. Take it either ways…knowledge is vast and you cannot know everything…or…I learnt a lot of irrelevant things of which I remember nothing.

So tell me. Which one are you… The Idiot or The Educated?

Come on…be honest!

Acceptance

The day you accept yourself as the person you actually are, you will cease to worry about what others think of you. True. Indeed.

All our life we keep seeking approvals. Its not wrong. It is great to seek a second opinion. Its a very good idea to have Filters in your life. That way you tend to stay on the track that the world calls right. But, when these approvals start defining your life, it is time for you to wake up. What's wrong if you absolutely love vanilla ice cream when you were supposed to like the chocolate flavoured one? Would you give up your choice to meet the expectations extended to you by some xyzee?!

Does it matter so much, what people think? If you can sleep soundly at night and wake up happy, does it matter if you have been able to please twenty other people who absolutely totally care not even remotely about you? 

Parents. Yes, we love them. Dearly. They are supposed to be closest to us. They are supposed to understand us. As long as they see you for who your are.

Blinded by the bright lights of social conventions they may start expecting things from you that make you less of who you actually are and make you a bit like the person you were ideally supposed to become. Not wrong at all. If that makes your a better person, go for it. As long as the Nights are spent in sound sleep and the Mornings are beautiful! It's perfect.

But if that does not hold true for you, do not stop being yourself. If you wake up in the middle of the night, nightmares haunting you...chasing you...blaming you...cursing you to a life long hell... Stop. Rollback the changes. Get your night's sleep. Accept yourself as being imperfect. It's ok. It's perfect.

In a faraway land...as distant as distant can be... it was late at night...and she could not sleep. She kept tossing and turning in her bed. Her pillow had long give up trying to be soft for her. The dreams would never leave her alone. The happy dreams. the dreams she had seen for herself. The perfection that she had imagined...the person she had thought she would be...the dreams of the people she had loved and broken... they would not let her be. She could not face herself in the mirror. The reflection taunted her. It was still perfect. But she was not.

She sought for approval...someone would care to accept her as she was...the people closest to her. All she got was rejection. She could not sleep.

Until that morning when she accepted herself. She realised she was never wrong. She was never perfect and could never be. All she could be was herself. the good and the bad together. She was free. Those dreams stopped and her mornings were beautiful again.

Acceptance, my dear readers...is the Truth...it is Key.

The journey: Highway

The lone bird seems to have finally found it's way through the darkness. It has found a way home. High above the hills...a small mud hut... warm hearth... and a place to call it's own.
The darkness has been dispersed by the first rays of the morning sun.

That is Highway!
The journey of a Princess who has forever been locked away in the highest tower of the Castle.
She had spent hours by her window. She would gaze with longing at the world outside. She could see the mountains rise high...watch the birds fly...see the streams flow...but never feel them. She could only imagine how it would be to be at one with nature. She had a dream...a hut atop a hill...a warm hearth...a place to call her own...a home. And then, she found it.

Her Prince did come and he did rescued her from the high tower. There was no horse. No shinning armour. No quality that she could see, judge and quantify. No hopes of a happily ever after.

Dragged away from the tower. Kidnapped. Terror was what she felt. The joy of freedom crept in much later. Beneath a star lit sky...the celestial diamonds glistened in her eyes. She realised her existence. Her life suddenly had more meaning.
She felt the joy that was there in her present state of captivity. She could run. She could go back and hide in the high tower, forever protected. But she felt a certain charm in the recklessness that freedom brought with it. She did not desire the security of the high tower. She was bewitched by the way life had unpredictably unfolded before her eyes. She was charmed by the dangers, they teased her. She welcomed the possibilities that life had to offer, they seemed to flirt with her.

A highway with cross-roads. Heart ruling over the mind. Reasons being overshadowed by longings and dreams.
The choices were made.

She loved the thrill. She was living out her dream. She did not desire the destination. Her longings were for the road...it was the journey of life...she craved the highway to never end. She did not want to stop. A little while longer...just a little bit more... and the road never ends...
Like a child, she was at play.

Dreams are not forever. The slumber has to end.
Choices are to be made.
Wakefulness is painful. The dream is so serene.

If we can dream, we can live it. We can run away from the high tower. We can be at peace.
We can feel the streams rushing down the mountains...feel the cool breeze...
We can touch the green grass...feel the dew drops on them...
We can be who we want to be.
We can be fearless. We are all we have for ourselves. We have nothing to lose.
It takes courage.

The highway is to be traveled till we reach ourselves. Till we learn to Live.

A beautiful painting by Imtiaz Ali. No beauty is flawless, as the moon can never be without its craters...
A poetry in motion...a musical journey through the hills, rivers and planes of Life...
The Highway is a modern day Fairytale of sorts.

The Bride's Song

Beads woven together...gold, silver and rhine...

Sparkling in their own bright hue...

The heart is in the Heaven of Delight.

The wind plays a glorious song...

A song of love and faith...

The birds follow the melody and the sound echoes through the vale.

The flowers bloom their prettiest best...
And the bees are all in their prime...
And the eyes all follow the prettiest one as the bride walks down the aisle.

A thousand dreams...and hundred thoughts...

Fear and joy, they merge...

A tear escapes the mother's eyes as she remembers her little one.

All the years of games and play...

Of petty things and fights...

And how she dreamt of the handsome prince, who on her doorstep would alight.

The day has come...and she is trembling, head to toe...

She awaits her prince at the alter today...eyes fixed on the floor...

She counts his footsteps as he makes his way to her...

18 it had to be...neither near, nor too far.

She awaits the man of her dreams...the prince who came from afar...

The dreams she has seen shall soon be true...her heart keeps telling her.

The vows will be spoken...the bonds will be forged...

Two hearts will become one...as she had always longed.

The birds sing outside...

The sunshine spreads itself over the blossoming yard.

She will soon walk though this pretty path

And then her life shall really start.

She knows not how her life will be...

She dreams of all that is good.

She knows not what awaits her outside...

She hopes he will be there for her...just as at the alter now they stood.

The veil is lifted...and she embraces her Life.

Beads woven together...gold, silver and rhine...

Sparkling in their own bright hue...

Her heart is in the Heaven of Delight.

Our Story Sets us Apart

Yes I've heard about you...

come here, sit by my side...

Why don't you tell me the story behind your smile,

Tell me your tale...and I, my Friend, will tell you mine.

yes...everyone has a story, 

something that they call their own,

Everyone has a reason for being who they are...

Its a voice from within that seems to come from afar.

Everyone has a secret...no matter how small...forever untold.

Everyone has a personal Sunshine...a Black Cloud and a Silver Line...

Everyone has driven down one-way roads and have met dead-ends well defined.

At least one bossom friend, we all have to save our back...

At least one foe to drown us in misery and set us off the safe and sound track.

Someone must have changed your life...

...Someone must have loved you back...

Somewhere someone must have brought to you an unexpected smile...

somehow somewhere something must have been denied...

Some dreams unfulfilled...

some songs unsung...

some reason why your heart was broken...

and in your eyes had tears stung.

Everyone has a story...a reason why they lived...

A story so precious that we hold it close to our heart...

hidden from prying eyes...

And it is this...our story...

our story sets us all apart.

A Canvas on the Show

I stood there, numb with pain.

Had I Blood, it would have drenched me...

Had I Voice, it would have cried out by now...

Yet I stood there, still, numb.

I was a beautiful moonlit evening...waves crashing against the shore,

Two love struck stars falling from the sky 

Had paid a priceless visit to me.

I felt so alive in the slivery light 

That the moon, the stars and the sea had cast...

I was so proud just to be.

They all said I was beautiful...spell binding, they exclaimed.

Some desired me...some just admired.

I was a piece of Life captured in a frame...

I loved my hue,

And I loved being Midnight Blue.

Then one day, he came...

He had come for me, I know...

Held me in his arms...so close to his chest

I could almost feel his heart beat for me.

He took me back to his abode,

I was to be his forever, I hoped.

I looked at him with my silent eyes...

Bestowed on him my silver light...

I gave my beauty, my serenity, my love to him...

All that I ever could.

I was his and he was all I had.

But there was someone else too...

Someone beyond my comprehension...

Someone who loved him more...cared more...

Hurt more too...

She had been there when he first met me...

I had seen her approval glance...

Perhaps she loved me too...

But did I care, No.

And then one evening...

The world around me fell apart.

I heard them speak...

There was more noise than all words rioting together can make...

Some storm it was, a storm of love and rage.

Things fell...hearts broke...in Fate's single stroke.

In such anger towards me he came...

And drove his broken heart throught mine. 

He tore open my canvas frame...

Till the stars and the moon all ceased to shine.

I cried out...but in vain...

For I had no voice that could reach his ears.

The gashes on my soul opened wide,

And Midnight Blue I bled in pain.

They moved me...I saw him no more...

They treated me well...and patched me up...

They said I looked as good as new...

They put me up again...a canvas on the show

They said I was pretty but they exclaimed no more...

I was now bruised beyond beauty...

...Just another canvas on the show...

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...

Waking up

Waking up was different during different phases of my life!
As a child waking up meant either school, pending homework or exams! i grew up a bit and then waking up took up a whole new meaning...this was when i started waking up to dreams...!!
over the years, mom's shrill and high pitched scream of "wake up....or you'll be late for school" got replaced by a friend or roommate's sleepy "good morning..."...followed by..."mass bunk...and then movie...what say?!"

its been years...perhaps ages...feels like decades actually.... Waking up now means going to work...coding...debugging...more coding....getting frustrated...coding some more....taking mini tea breaks in between...n again coding...
weekends are the worst...you wake up late...have nothing to do...you feel lazy...you feel low...
friendship...fun...companionship...have all changed over the years...
there was a time when friendship meant Life to me! there was a time when  having friends around made me feel warm and happy... there was a time when living together with friends was the best thing that could happen to me!

and then...one morning...when i woke up...i realized...that everything had changed!

changes are a part of life...yes.
life is ever changing...yes.
change is the only constant...yes.

but when change walks hand in hand with indifference....it hurts!

i miss my hostel...i miss my home. i miss them for the simplicity of life that they offered. i miss them because they both served breakfast in the morning...irrespective of whether you wanted to eat or not!

a little bit of care is all that we humans crave for...
a bank account having 10K at month end...and still waking up hungry in an indifferent atmosphere with no provision for breakfast is not a life that anyone really cares for!

but then...in most cases...that is the life we end up living...and that too...indifferently.



Note: All in good humour! :)

The Truth

Integrate the moments you have lived...you will get your Life!

Differentiate Life...the moments of your Life flash before your eyes.

Tell me...What do you see?

expressing had always been my forte...until....i was convinced to believe that its best to remain silent. Silence is no longer golden. Today, Silence is Strength. 

Your fears, your anguish...your tears... if you express yourself...expressions label you W-E-A-K. 

Funnily enough...even your joy should remain confined within you. Your joy is your's...alone. Why bother others with it!

So what do we do... do we become a social recluse?

No.

We socialise selectively, closely adhering to social protocols.

We behave the way we are expected to behave. We say what is wished to be heard. We do what we are supposed to do. We pretend. 

We are forever confined within our self-imposed norms of expectations. We harness our emotional energy to give birth to a social paradigm which enforces the Law of Lifelessness in living entities.

An expressionless existence...punctured in the heart with a silent silver bullet...

We are doomed to be alone...an individual trapped within his/her own self. We are prisoners of our existence...waiting to be set free from the shackles of Life.

A Divine Gift...we have turned into a self-inflicted curse.

and then...

I close my eyes and differentiate my Life....darkness closes in on me.