THE 'RIGHT' TIME...

When is it the right time to do anything at all? Is there any such thing as the 'right' time? If there is then is there like a 'right' time for every thing and is it different for different things? We are often in a dilemma over when it's the right time to do something or the other. Should we call a friend or sms now or later or maybe some other day? Should we apply for the course this year or wait another year? Should we tell our friend about what has been bugging us about him/her all this while? Should I quit now even though I have nothing in hand as of now or should I get something going and then leave? Should I convey my love or maybe perhaps give it a little more time and get to know the person?

I doubt if there ever is the right time to do or say anything at all. It is only when we have done or said some things and they have proved rewarding that we believe it was the right time to have done those very things. Our mind registers our actions and what all occurred en route to their success. Perhaps that's how we form the probability of a thing being right for us or not given identical circumstances in the future again. I believe it's more to do with our gut feeling. It doesn't necessarily have to be the feeling in our hearts that tells us this is the right time, the right moment and the right thing to do. For even with all the heart-speak, there are times when we lack in confidence and have nervous-feeling about the things. So, in these moments it is what we decide to do at that particular moment, the gut feeling inside of us, which makes us do those things.

But there's nothing like a well-aligned heart, mind and the instinct, all saying it is the right thing and the right time to do it. Then the decision have a sure-shot chance of being the 'right' one for that moment. Why for that moment only? Because I believe there can never be an absolute 'right' or 'wrong' thing. Several factors influence the 'rightness' or 'wrongness' of a thing. Whether it is the socially or universally unacceptable or the morally incorrect or against humanity or whatever, there are many things that decide what is right and what is wrong. It is never a single thing. For every individual is different and their thought-process, their environment at home or at work, the circumstances are different. So, with different situation and different times, something that is 'right' may seem completely 'wrong' too.

The point is, no matter what it is, it all comes down to the individual level. So, it is only you and you only who knows if it is the 'right' time for you to do what you feel is 'right' to you. After that, you have to take up responsibility for it whether it turns out 'right' or 'wrong' later on. Stand up to it and never look back. It's like the line from Tokyo Drift, 'You make choices in your life and never look back'.

KEEPING IT SHORT!

Something about shorts... not the shorts we can wear. Although even that's something I am very much for in this Summer. Short stories... short films... an advertisement or a music video... or poems... there's something about saying so much in so little time or in few words... that just appeals to me a lot. Poems are something I have been writing for a very long time since my adolescent years. Even in this form, I have always been fascinated by short poems, saying it all in four lines or so yet not letting it seem incomplete. Here's a short poem I wrote long time back:

'Your Touch'
A thousand words you could have said...
How could they have compared?
For you eased my heart and
comforted my soul...
in just a single touch of yours...

Lately, I have been trying my hands at short stories. The first few attempts were okay-okay. Some were a disaster to say the least. Some I greatly liked. But being my own works it will be difficult for me to be objective about them. And thanks to friends who make my life easier or difficult depending on how you see criticism and the work that follows the criticism. Sometimes it doesn't take much time at all to write a story. But it takes a lot more of time and effort to rewrite or make amends in a story. I found it so difficult to do even in my work, especially when I would have to go through others' work and make changes or corrections. I feel it becomes a lot easier to write it on your own, when you can't make sense out of the written piece in front of you. When its a piece by a friend it becomes ever so hard to do so. That is when I either sent it across to the big boss or try and make the changes along with the person so that the idea doesn't get affected by all the changes.

I haven't really tried my hands at ad films or short films yet. Someday I will. But for now let's discuss at least those that I have liked since my growing up years. I was becoming all too nostalgic about Doordarshan sometime back, searching for old ads on youtube and remembering the names of the serials we watched along with Sunny, a very close friend of mine. The whole day was spent in front of the computer. 'Baje Sargam' or 'Mile Sur Mera Tumhara' have become synonymous with my growing up years and for many others as well. The plethora of stars coming together or the faces of common people spanning the whole country, these music videos are a standard and a testimony to an era altogether. 'Ek Anek' was among the first lengthy songs I memorised by heart and would sing along with it, together with my sister. The concept was great. The weaving of the story in between, the pigeons, the bird-catcher and the rats.

We also juggled our minds to remember some of the best ads we had ever seen as well. National Literacy Mission has some really good ads like 'Purab se surya uga...' a catchy tune sung by Kavita Krishnamurthy.. and more recently, the 'School chale hum..' song-ad which I heard on radio first then later saw it on TV. It's special to me for personal reason. I had spent some of my best days with my mom at a relative's house where we'd listen to this ad every morning. Even Shubha Mudgal rendered song, 'Sapna Dekha Hai Maine..' , an endeavour by Amity Humanity Foundation for the education of the underprivileged girl child, is remarkable to say the least. The music was given by Shantanu Moitra and lyrics penned by Prasoon Joshi. Sample this:

"Mausam gulaal leke darwaze mere aaye..
misri si baat hawayein kano mein keh jaaye..
badal ke ruee wale takiya liye sirhaane,
daadi ki thapki aur kisse naye puraane...

kala tika mathe pe pyar se koi lagaaye...
mujhko bhi nayi shararat karna koi sikhaaye...
mera khoya sa bachpan koi wapas laaye...
mere bhi naam ko chhota karke koi bulaaye...

sapna dekha hai maine...
maine bhi dekha hai sapna...
sapna dekha hai maine...
maine dekha sapna..."

Talking about ads, it's impossible to forget the Cadbury's Dairy Milk's ad with the girlfriend of a cricketer running towards her lover as he hits a 6, while doing a little jig on the field with the theme song, 'Kuch Khaas Hai, Zindagi Mein...' playing in the background. And Bajaj became a household name with the slogan 'Hamara Bajaj', weaving the thread of progress in keeping with the spirit of the Indian family, in a developing India.

In the recent past, Vodafone's erstwhile Hutch's ads are simply innovative. Something one would want to watch rather than flip the channels. From its adorable pug to Zoozoo... innovation never seems to stop for them. Fevicol's ads are a tradmark too. I especially remember the 'pakde rehna, chhodna nahin..' one! Amul milk's ads have been good since childhood days. I loved the song, 'Doodh, doodh, doodh, doodh..' Raymond's ads were classic. The class reunion and a gift for the teacher, was really touching. Airtel too had some great ones. HDFC's 'sone ke daat' or 'the son and dad' ads were endearing. There are many others but just these are coming to my mind as of now.

As for short films, haven't seen many of them. I have seen short films on television, the ones where it's either a reality show with a bunch of contestants coming up with a short film every week or the social service films. The most recent I remember were the shorts by different filmmakers for Mira Nair's AIDS Jaago (AIDS Awake) project. I specially loved director and now actor-cum-singer also, Farhan Akhtar's short 'Positive'. It was really touching, very sensitively told. Other shorts in the series were 'Blood Brothers' by Vishal Bhardwaj, 'Prarambha' by Santosh Sivan, 'Migration' by Mira Nair. Then there are those few that I have checked out on the net or seen at a film festival, which normally doesn't happen that often.

I guess my fascination with shorts is simply because life is too short. And when you know life is too short why would you waste it with the unwanted and unnecessary details? It's better to cut to the point and say it precisely, but without making it sound or feel any less significant or effective. It has to be short but not pointless or random. There still has to be some sense in it. Moreover, doesn't take much to be nonsensical. I'm that most of the times. So, keeping it short and sensical is the aim.

............................

update: just saw some of the most powerful ads I have seen in recent times... Thai life insurance ads.. really touching.. beautifully shot... this one is titled, 'My Son'.. click here for the video, with eng subs click here. Another one is titled, 'Daddy'.. moved me to tears... and another one titled, 'My Girl'... then there's 'Grandma' and 'Grandpa'... I am just blown away by the concept, the video, but most importantly by the emotions that they so effortlessly instill in us... Looking at these ads, all I can do is, apart from controlling my emotions, hope to be able to do such beautiful work...

THE NEED FOR SPEED

For the most part life runs slow... there isn't much hurry to do anything at all. It's more like the day dawns with the sluggishness of a snail.. gets out of bed like a sloth moving from one branch to the other... gets going, out and about like a caterpillar crawling on a leaf... and falls into the depth of sleep like a leech falling off after having sucked enough blood from the flesh... When the beauty of the slow life gets a wee bit annoying, the thirst for speed takes control. Sometimes all we need is speed. Speed of thoughts and actions... speed of execution and not just of initialization... To make things happen and not just wait for it to unfold on its own. To seize all the opportunities that you have been waiting for with great precision.

But speed kills too. What could be worse than to be so near something you always wanted to achieve and die right at the threshold of achieving it? So, then it is not just speed that is the need, rather controlled speed, where the speed is not controlling us but we are controlling the speed of our lives; where it zooms real fast and where it takes a slow turn. To be one's own master. And when it is but a long yet 'over-too-all-soon' life, we can only measure its worth in the moments where we mastered our destinies.. our roads and our lives... It may just be 10 secs, but to live fully in those 10 secs.. In Dominic's or Dom's words, 'I live my life a quarter mile at a time.. nothing else matters.. for those 10 secs or less.. I am free...'

It's always better to live a life that is free even if it's for less... a long caged life can be no life at all, can it? Maybe it depends on how we define being free.. then again.. can we ever be free of everything.. perhaps that's why we are and feel free in those 10 secs when there is nothing holding us back.. nothing else bothering our minds or tugging at our hearts.. just speeding through!!

AN AFTERNOON DELIGHT!

It seemed like a day-dream of sorts. It was hard to believe more so since I had been going in and out of sleep with such ease of transition that it was hard to differentiate between what was really 'real' and what was a 'dream'. So, the first sign of the rain seemed like a dream to me. I had to rush out to confirm if it really was.

The humidity had made the days worse in the past few days. It had become unbearable to an extend that one just had to be out of the house for a minute and soon enough all the pores in the body would start oozing out the undesirable fluid. Did it help to have a handkerchief or some tissues at hand? No, it doesn't help much when just a single wipe can leave the material soaking wet through and through.

Today was no different. The fan did its duty but it failed to bring about the same effect that it once did. The heat and the humidity soon enough induced a short but deep sleep. And it seemed as long as ever. People were walking about and having their laughs and conversations.. and it seemed I was there witnessing it all but from a distant. Were they real conversations or did I just imagined them in my dream again? I can't be certain of it.

I finally woke up to the sound of my friend saying 'It's raining'.. half-asleep and half-awake.. I somehow managed to rush out of the house. No, it wasn't raining at all! He told me to go out in the open and feel it. It did rain a little. And I did manage to feel the drops on my body, as sparse and few as they were. At least now, the day was not the same anymore even if it didn't rain to my heart's content or enough to wet the tiles of the floor.

Just a minute change is needed sometimes when one has been in a routine for a long time, and with no hope of getting out of it, to make things seem better. And even though the expected shower never did pour, it had changed the day from a mundane and humid one to a delightful one. It was surely an 'afternoon delight'.

STUCK BETWEEN ERSTWHILE FRIENDS...

If you have different set of friends and some of them don't get along all too well, it becomes difficult to 'coordinate' your schedule. And specially when you are in good terms with all of them, it is hard to detach yourself from the conversations that may turn harsh or rude in some way or the other. No matter if the arguments or the comments are justified, the position you find yourself in is awkward to say the least. It is like you find excuses to be out of the conversation or to give out any reaction. How do you react? I have no clue whatsoever. I tend to move about here and there if I have the freedom of space around me. In case we are all seating in a restaurant or a place like that, then it is somewhat hard to do so. It is in such a situation that it is hard to hide your discomfort. The best you can do is to hope that the conversation ends soon and you don't have to bear the torture for long.

I have found myself in such a situation many a times. The discomfort and the weirdness is to be felt to be known. And when it gets a bit too much, I interrupt very frankly and suggest we talk about something else. Sometimes the request is complied to so very promptly that the awkwardness ends in just a matter of a minute or so. At other times it leads to a series of comments that would be targeted at me being the 'good' friend or the 'real' pal of the person concerned and how I would always advocate for rather than against him/her. I take it as it is, knowing fully that at least it would in a way put an end to the odd feeling in me.

Misunderstandings can be solved sometimes. At other times when it has escalated to a point of bitterness and intolerance nothing can be done. One then has to just cope with the bitterness, somehow or the other. Even though one would have wished for things to be otherwise, that at least both sides talked it out somehow or made an effort to clear the misunderstandings and the doubts. Sometimes it is just a wishful thinking and one can only pray at some point in time in the near or far future, things are normal again. It is strange how things concerning two people can change so much in your own life! Especially when you have had no role in the 'breaking up' of the ties. If your friends are understanding to the fact that you are a friend to both and they can't expect you to take sides whatsoever, it becomes much easier. I'm wise enough to not discuss stuff about one to the other. That in a way at least helps in maintaining some sanity in my own life.

When the friends expect you to choose one or the other, I just end up choosing none of them. I see a breach of friendship when such a demand is made and such a situation arises for real. I have lost out on some friends because of this; those with whom I have shared great rapport. But when it comes to such nonsensical and meaningless aspects of friendship devoid of any reasoning, it just isn't worth it for me to continue. When some things end, they herald the beginning of the end of other things around it as well.

It is not easy to find people whom you genuinely like and with whom you truly connect. And it is sad that one has to lose a lot of such people in your life in such a manner.

RED AND WHITE

If you thought the post is going to be about the Red and White bravery awards then sorry to disappoint you, it is not. The Red and White here do stand for the colours, but in which forms and in what context is what I am going to discuss here. I should probably go about it chronologically, after all that is the acceptable order almost every time. But I feel different and experimental now so I will start in reverse order.

Red had made its impact on me about a month ago. It came to me at a time when I had given up on ever finding it, no matter if it was on borrowed time. Now, holding it in my hands for real, knowing it won't be returned or held by thousands of other hands gives me a sheer high. To receive something you have longed and searched for, in the form of a gift is a humbling experience. It's a reaffirmation of your faith that if you truly want some things, they surely do come true. Honesty of the wish and the believe in its realisation can do wonders.

Orhan Pamuk had introduced himself to me when he was delivering his speech, emotional and soul-stirring. He struck me deep somewhere inside of me. It irked me. I felt he was intruding my personal space. I had since then avoided looking through him. However it is not to say that he didn't intrigue me. He did. Enormously. That's one reason why I have gone around snooping through his creations. Now to finally own one gives me an immense high! I do realise that it would mean much more and would be truer if I dealt with what had struck and irked me about him and learned a lesson or two from it. Then perhaps I'll be able to write something that's even a fraction as fine and as remarkable as 'My Name Is Red'.

White had a different purpose altogether. It wasn't known to me personally just like Red wasn't but unlike Red I had not been in the quest to find it. It came to me just like that. I was glad I had it's company to keep me light-headed and in an entertaining mode through my first experience of a book launch. Did I say a book launch? Well, better not to go there. First impression was trying to make an impression out of the experience. A restro-bar filled with literati or wannabe literati all with their backs to the entrance. A female and a male voice could be heard in conversation inside the overtly congested room, which welcomed another three souls, vying for a space to stand proper. After the initial feeling of disorientation, things started to make some sense. And the voices found their faces as well. A short-haired, thin woman of average height dressed elegantly in a saree, the author of the book being launched, was in conversation with a bespectacled, french bearded thin man in a blazer (in this summer??), an already published and renowned author. Their conversation was brief, followed by a reading from her book. And then the bar was thrown open. So, White wine it was for me following my friend's choice. It was succeeded by an orange juice and then by a pineapple juice with several servings of snacks in between each sip.

White made the head a little breezy or dizzy, whichever way seemed apt for you. Its help was not needed for words to flow but it did led to better reactions. The three heads had some trouble with their respective heads, which made the conversation all the more interesting. It would be about less than an hour later, when the three would be laughing and talking better sense than what prevailed at that moment. And Red would lay waiting at some corner of a narrow lane, before coming to me.

SLEEP'S SWEET EMBRACE

A sleepy morning is not really the best way to begin your day. But when the sleep is long overdue, it may be the only remedy to cure the morning of its inauspicious start, eh? A nocturnal being can hardly keep his eyes open in the morning. Not that he hasn't slept but the sleep was broken in pieces too early for the sun to rise and too late for the lullaby. It's a wait for the sleep to walk right back into the drowsy and dreamy rooms, weave some dreams if day-dreaming is allowed and ring the warning bell before the day's over. Still no sign of it, as yet. I'll wait and see who wins, the sleepy legged being or the worn-out master in waiting.

What all was achieved in the meantime? Surely the hours in between must have been surreal to say the least; to not be awake completely but to not dream away either. Did the consciousness lose its control and slide down into the sub-conscious? Or are you as normally aware of everything around you as you would in a normal state of being awake? You do know who am I, don't know? I have spoken to you several times, more so on this very topic. I have been keeping a track of your actions and behaviour during this state of your mind for many years now. You always seem to forget, I know you more than you do yourself.

Played well with words in the meantime. Tired my eyes and my body looking at some random stories of a high school boy who wasn't at all cool but managed to succeed in the end somehow since he wasn't really a fool. Walked again through the terrain of love, lost and found again. Some wisdom that slowly arrived and some mistakes that swiftly passed by. All in all, I have done enough to tire myself waiting for the sleep to come. If only it knew, punctuality can be a virtue as well. I cannot blame it though, for it has lost too much out of time.

I'm hoping as I narrate this tale to you, it reads me or hears me out and comes running to me. Togetherness is always better than tiresome loneliness. Hope to see you soon. When you do, try and make no noise at all. Don't utter a word or produce a sound. Come to me silently and lull me in your sweet embrace.

DISCONNECTED!!

Agreed that technology enhances communication. But disrupted technology leads to disrupted communication; interrupted thoughts and broken chain of conversations. Logging in to my account I was on a look out for friends to chat online, and was really glad to find some good friends with whom I had not conversed for quite some time. The conversations began and we soon began chatting in our own trademark style; a dash of fun, a little teasing and a whole lot of information. Just then the internet gets disconnected. Once was okay and understandable but it happened again and again, especially after we had somehow picked up the pace and got chatting in our usual rhythm again. Finally I decided to end it and swiftly said goodbyes before it got disconnected again. Thus, the earlier excitement of finding a long lost friend and picking up from where we had left faded all too soon. But there is no denying that it was fun to have met my friend online. The experience could have been better if the technology too like our enthusiastic minds responded with ease and uninterrupted flow.

Not just internet but sometimes, the automatic disconnection of a call during our telephonic conversation also kills the flow to a great extend. I have realised that after every 1 hour and 32-34 minutes the phone call gets disconnected and so I have to dial the number again and then reconnect from where we had left just a few seconds ago. It's tolerable and not a major problem at all, except when the call fails to get through again. Then it bugs me a lot. Redialing again and again ends in success most of the times but on rare occasions, the conversation as and when it was disrupted becomes its end. As with anything that sees an end all-too-sudden and completely unexpectedly, it doesn't give any good feelings to think about.

This is very much true in case of relationships as well. Any kind of relationship, if ended on an abrupt and sudden point, leaves an indelible mark in our psyche. There is a sense of something incomplete, of having no end or closure at all inside of us. That is precisely why, it is said that one should always end on a good note. Even if it may not be the perfect ending or in the way that one would have wished it to be, an amiable end makes it easier to go on with our lives. At least regret, guilt or bitterness don't occupy our hearts and minds; and if they still reside, the intensity of its effect becomes a lot milder.

I haven't had much luck with the positive endings. Most of the ends in my life have left me incomplete in some way or the other, as if some part of me has ceased to be mine any longer and is revolting its residence in me. When I don't give in to its rebellious demands it brings along regret and guilt to let me let go off it. I still struggle to keep it in peaceful existence and at some moments when it has gone as far beyond as it could, I feel as disconnected as possible. Sometimes it is good to feel and be disconnected but not when you are aiming otherwise.

COMFORTABLE CONVERSATIONS

Conversations are for most part better if it is carried out face to face rather than through any other medium. It makes things seem more real and the interaction seem more genuine. The instant reaction you can get to see on the person's face, their body language and all, leave very less scope for deception. So, would this mean that other conversations, like those through letters, emails, smses or telephone are less genuine? Not necessarily. There are those who find the external disturbances and influences during a face-to-face conversation discomforting when a private tête-à-tête is not possible. So, they prefer talking over the phone or writing smses and mails to each other. Even with the possibility of a person-to-person meeting, some still opt for conversations over the phone. They are able to express more explicitly when there's no tension or worry involved about how to act or behave physically during a conversation. They can sit at ease at home or wherever they feel at home without thinking about how they would be judged and so can converse more freely.

I have always preferred talking in person rather than through any other means. But if it is with a new person, it would not be hard for the person to figure out that I may be a little uncomfortable. I take time to find my comfort zone with someone new. It takes a few conversations to figure out if there is a scope for connecting with the person. If I do connect then depending on how we connect, the person will fall into one of my pre-concluded comfort zones. With a friend, it is very different. I would just somehow switch into one of my zones. It's a completely different comfort level altogether with a very close friend. It doesn't matter if it's in person or over the phone or any other medium. The conversations go on for hours and hours. They may be as trivial as the weather or too deep into philosophy and the mysteries of life. The comfort level just flows with ease.

Then there are those friends too with whom, despite having a great comfort level in person, conversations over the phone seem to yield a much better understanding of each other and strangely a greater comfort level as well. I have connected in this way to very few friends. And have spent nights and nights conversing endlessly about almost everything that affected both of our lives individually. One knows and understands different things about the person, more so since when one is completely comfortable things just flow out naturally. Of course there would still be a slight pause or a minute long silence, but it would not be the end of it at all. I have found out something unique or wacky about friends, like when they can sing uninhibitedly or make funny/silly noises in disapproval over the phone. I have surprised my friends as well, since they didn't know that when I do get talking sometimes I can keep going on and on to the point of irritation. Although it doesn't happen very often. Rarity of a thing somehow qualify for it being special most of the times. Not that this quality is a speciality!

No matter which medium we employ, the point is to put across what we want to say. If we are able to say it in the best way possible using whichever medium then conversations for most part is successful albeit the listener has taken the right cues and pointers from what was being said in the first place. Understanding is the key to a great conversation. And a great conversation makes relationships work at a better level too. It can be really therapeutic as well sometimes: takes the load off our minds, gets our brains ticking and gives us a fresh new perspective.

LOVE STORIES...

We have all gone through our share of falling in love and heartbreaks in our lives. It may be 'not-so-seriously' serious high school crushes or the infatuations we had when we were young or something completely life changing. When we look back, years later at our high school 'love affairs', we tend to look at it in a more objective way. We have the bigger picture in front us and we see how we were and how we had acted at those times; feeling stupid or completely embarrassed just by the thought of it. Or becoming all too nostalgic and wishing things were different. Whichever way, they did play an important role in shaping our future relationships, despite it being childish or silly in a way. It surely didn't seem so back then.

The plot of our love story then was simple, in a way. First we would find someone with whom we developed a connection. If we do connect well then we try to understand and figure out if it's just on a friendly level or more. Are we compatible enough on various levels? Do I see more going for it than just friendship? If the answer is yes then another hurdle on the way is to find out if the feeling is mutual. It's time for the top ten heartbreak songs, if the answer is no. Or hit the play button and listen to the classic 'falling-in-love' songs if it is yes.

Somehow relationships become a bit more complex as we grow up. The innocence of the child-like love or crushes takes a backseat as the ride gets rougher and tougher. The basis of love remains the same: To find someone whom we love and to be loved in return. The process of finding that someone and the possibility of that person returning our love become very blink as with age our priorities change, our needs differ and our expectations too undergo some changes.

There are so many different factors that affect our falling in love and what we do with that emotion in us. Sometimes we hear what it says and at other times we ignore it. Sometimes we believe in it but stop ourselves from giving it a life outside of our hearts, knowing very well it will amount to nothing at all. There are times when our own restraints and others' restrictions that lay ahead are reason enough for us to kill it right at the beginning.

And when we do love and show it as well, and we are loved in return, it may be the 'happily-ever-after' end of a fairy tale. But real life is different, that is why we feel so much more when it's real. The trials and tribulations of love never ends, not after the confession of love, not after the union or marriage, and certainly not after the first anniversary or the first child. It's a lifelong process and there are mistakes galore. How we deal with the mistakes and the shortcomings in each other is what would make the love last longer or end right at that moment of the mistake erupting into an uncompromisable difference. Whether it's infidelity or hunger for power or money or someone better or we simply fall out of love... there are too many 'more-than-happy' roadblocks during the journey. How we cross them decides how lasting our love is.

The journey sees no end in a way. Those who have never been in love, wish to fall in love. Even those who may despise the very mention of love being frustrated by the idea of not having found it. Those who have loved, wish for the love to last long enough to hear the wedding bells. And those who have exchanged their vows, long for a happy and ever-lasting married life. Those who have been married for years wish they have a great family life and their respective spouses remain faithful and in love with them always. And for those who have been married for years and have seen their children grow up, wish for the love to remain the same and to be together till the end. Many fear too that they do not fall out of love with each other. For many it is the same cycle of falling in and out of love, the heartbreaks and all, when they live those very moments through the lives of their children. Only this time they have the wisdom to share, but the youth, alas! would have no patience to hear!

We never learn to love completely. Only the love of those are complete who have ceased to live. Perhaps that is why the great love stories in every culture are of those who once lived. In death their love was complete. If they'd have lived, who knows some divorce attorney would have made huge load of money! Given that they lived in today's times, of course!

(Disclaimer: Love as discussed here refers to love of romantic nature only)

THE ART OF PAINTING

Oh no, no... don't go by the title of the post. I'm not going to write an essay on the art of painting or discuss about the evolution of painting as an art through the ages. I'm just going to talk about my attempt at wielding the paint brush and how I think I have fared.

I have had strong inclination towards pictures since the time I was a young boy. The idea of a picture whether it was a photograph or a painting or a sketch... intrigued me a lot. They seem to tell a story. If through a photograph a moment that was lived was relived again, the brush strokes and the mix of colours made paintings exciting to me. With a sketch it was more like conveying things through shades of black and gray. I have always been sketching since I was a kid. So, you can say my world is more of black and gray. It is only recently that I started experimenting with colours and paints. But the interval of time in between each experiment hasn't helped in honing my skills at all, if any.

My first attempt was a surprising success... I had no brush or proper colours. My sister had bought some fabric crayons for herself, which had not been put to use at all. So I took out my drawing pad late one night. Tore off the sponge from my discarded shoes and used it to dip the colours. That's how I began my first painting. It turned out nice. I painted the photographs of two actors which was printed in colour effects, with shades of yellow, orange, red and black. Since it was turned out good it took months to start painting again. I didn't know if I could do well again. Fear of failure becomes more prominent when you have tasted success before.

But after almost 2 years, I did it again. This time in a more professional way. I bought the canvases, the brushes, the colours and oil. It is another story that all these remained untouched for months after being purchased. So, how did I fare this time around? I had all the right tools but still it lacked something or the other. It is like a painting for the sake of painting. That's the worst kind of anything. To do it just for the sake of doing... without any heart or soul.

What is still good about it is that at least I know how and where I am wrong. I need to develop more control over the strokes of the brush and the tone of the colour I use, how to differentiate the light from the shadow, the deep from the surface and the near from the far. In another words I seriously need to learn a lot! To try and experiment till I get it right. That's what makes the process of learning interesting, isn't it?

HOW WELL DO YOU KNOW ME?

Social networking sites do keep you busy once you are logged in, in case you enjoy playing some random quizzes and games besides catching up with what all is going on in your friends' lives. Just yesterday I logged in to my Facebook account and found out this new quiz, "How Well Do You Know Me?". It allows one to asks one's own questions and comes with a set of questions for some help and guidance.

So, I formed my questions and figured most may get it right. It seemed easy. But there was a doubt too, what if they didn't? Would it really matter? No, not as drastically as it sounds. It would be a little disappointing, considering the fact that I have a close circle of friends and I can count them on my fingers. I don't expect others to get it right but at least this set of friends should.

Then again, why such expectations at all! Only what we reveal can be known by others around us. So, if I never said or shown my interest in a thing or even talked about those very things, then would they even be able to know? I don't think so. Maybe some would have guessed it, knowing how I am as a person and putting logic (or my illogical nature) to work.

Even so, what we are and how we are, how we reacted and how we do now... are things that change with time... they change with the changes in the person, their thinking, their likeness and dislikes.. so it can never really account to much. If the quiz tests the knowledge of the people around with questions purely based on facts... such as date of birth, the name of the school and so on.. it may then be fair to all.

But a quiz like this, would be boring to say the least. It would be like the 'learning-by-heart' kinda system of education we still have in the country. And the one who wins will be the one good with dates and numbers and names. So, if someones goes through my records, they may very well turn out to be the person who knows me the best! Leaving behind all the friends with whom I have shared hours and hours of random conversations about almost everything in life.

What would make it exciting? When you throw the obvious with not-so-obvious. The 'maybe' and 'may not be' and answers which may confuse, since it may all be the right one. The deal is to figure out which one is the most right!

Still waiting to find out how my friends fare in this test... and have a hearty time going through the answers... after all such quizzes are meant to be enjoyed, aren't they?

WHY AND HOW ARE WE HERE? OR ANYWHERE?

Ever asked yourself the question of how and why you were here? And by here I mean wherever you are at this very moment when you're reading this or in a deeply philosophical way like trying to discover the mysteries of life... I have.. several times... and I bet you must have thought as well... several times!!

Like the question itself the answers are ambiguous! It depends on what kind of attitude you have towards your life at that particular moment. If I'm seriously into all the colours of blue and feeling all too blue as well, then ya it would be somewhat self-deprecating full of self-pity shit.. And in case I'm very optimistic and very positive then the answer could be something like we were meant to be.. we have our own purpose to fulfill on this earth.. and so on...

What would be my answer now? I'm half-witted and half-twisted right now... life's witty takes on me and its nonsensical twists and turns... you see!!

Check out how Calvin and Hobbes tackle this very issue below. When you have company, the questions and answers may not corroborate as well as in your own thoughts!!

(Calvin and Hobbes comic strip by Bill Watterson)

2 BOTTLES OF BEER DOES NOT GUARANTEE INSANITY!!

I felt very 'beery' tonight.. I don't know why! Felt like getting high or low, whichever way one goes when one gulps down few bottles of beer or whatever gets you high! If there were more than 2 I would have had them all but just 2 there were... So, had them real quick to make it work fast.. is it a myth or what, I really don't know! But m almost not real and not surreal as well.. so it must be working its magic somehow.. heehee!!

I'm trying not to think of anything seriously serious because if I do I think I might end up drowning myself.. so you see I've managed to do so.. coz I'm still afloat..!! wonder how!! even though I really don't know how to swim.. maybe I am just too light.. but it can't be since I've gained some weight in the last few months.. sporting a proud pot belly which is, thankfully, still not that evident!! heehee!!

So, what is this blog about? Well, I just wanted to read afterward what I write when I'm somewhere in between and not anywhere at all!! The place where it's okay to be a shit but it's not allowed to feel shitty.. I really don't feel shitty now!! I don't.. thought it may be something else when life flows in normal speed.. right now, even the fan seems to be moving too fast.. why does it even have to hurry!! life is not moving as fast as it is moving! maybe he's in a hurry to shut down! I guess I should shut down or shut up as well..

Catch ya all later.. when I read what I finally wrote...!! heehee!!

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY, MAMMA!

I remember the last time I wished you. How you just went to your room and crawled up on the bed and turned away from me when I sat down beside you.

You said: "It's all a waste of time and money. I am not a child anymore and you are not a kid either."

It hurt me, so I just left feeling bitter and a little mad. I had wished then sitting in my room. "I should have shown more often how much I loved and cared."

Love without an expression is the most selfish of love. Things changed after that day. I hugged you more. I kissed you more. I sat down with you and had our little conversations, especially during lunch or dinner. I still remember how you would always wait for me to come back home from college so that we could eat together. I gorged on all that you prepared while you watched me more and ate very little.

Between the Heaven and the Earth, I feel so close to you. And so I thought I'll let you know how much I love and miss you. Even though I can still feel you are crawling up somewhere in the corner of the paradise up above. But I know this time you are smiling and looking down on me... and saying...

"I love you and miss you too, my dear."

BUS RIDES.. HERE AND THERE

I remember once during my school days our teacher gave us an assignment to write about the experience of taking a bus ride. When I asked what all needed to be considered, she smilingly explained to me that I could write about where I boarded the bus, the people inside and where did I alight. My assignment was among the least best. I had described the experience of boarding a bus and alighting to watch a movie for the first time in the main city area. As it is, I thought the grading was not fair, but what added to my misery was that the teacher read aloud each students' assignment. And mine was accompanied by roars of laughter from my classmates each time my teacher paused in between some sentences.

If I was given an assignment now, I think I'd be able to write much more and about the bus ride, not the after-bus activities. Whether it was back in Shillong or here in Delhi or in Singapore, a bus ride is full of characters. Characters mostly visible in art-house or parallel cinema, a genre which is becoming indistinct now thanks to the experimental commercial Indian cinema these days. The characters in such films are not larger-than-life, rather representing the most common of the common men.

Whether they are the young school going adolescents or senior lots or the working class 'heroes' and 'heroines', peculiarity of the human kind can be an entertaining trait to observe. It also makes the time go by real fast. Especially when you are on a long journey and don't want to think about how long it is going to take to reach there.

At first I used to think buses in big cities were much better maintained and no one ever stood inside the bus as there were seats for everyone. Well, I was a kid then and didn't have to bother about getting a seat as I easily sat down on either of my parents' laps. Most of the buses, at least during my growing up years, in Shillong were made of wood exhibiting a typical red, blue and yellow colour paints. They are still around as I found out during my recent visit. It's funny how they have now become a part of a fond memory, when at those times I would be complaining about the height of (I had to duck a little; imagine me, a 5-feet 8-incher considered as 'tall') or congestion in the buses.

Most of the people I saw in Shillong buses exhibited a stained smile aimed at me or while talking to each other. Their teeth were stained due to consumption of betel nuts and leaves with quicklime. In Delhi, it was the complete indifference or a coldness somehow, that would greet me when I boarded a bus. I feel having stayed in the city for few years now, even I have come to endorse the coldness in my persona. Not that I haven't had some of the most pleasant encounters in the buses. Perhaps we tend to become the city we live in somehow. Now, which aspect and what ethos of the city we imbibe would depend on person to person.

And what to say of summers in Delhi. So many years and still can't get myself to deal with the heat in the summer. Some things one hardly gets use to, no matter how long one has been or how well one knows them. I remember once when I was taking a ride to my office, in an outer mudrika. It was jam-packed as usual during the morning and one had to run to catch it as it would almost inevitably NEVER stop. It would only slow down at the bus-stops. I have missed many-a-buses due to this. In a way all those missed buses taught me how to board a running bus!

Wearing formals that day was the worst fashion faux pas I ever committed. Not because it wasn't smart but it meant I was drenched in sweat no sooner had I boarded the packed bus. First few minutes, I was trying not to be in contact with any sweaty arms or faces. One can't really help rubbing against each other. That's why getting a seat was almost a reward. I finally found one and once seated wiped off my face, arms and the back of my neck with my handkerchief which didn't need a second running to be soaking wet. Thank god for the fact that I had noticed and so pulled back my hand from the bar of the front seat. One of the men standing next to the seat had nothing to wipe himself off it seems. The salty drops had gathered across his forehead and were heading for a jump below. I cringed when I noticed the target was my hand. Alas! when I pulled my hand away, my left leg which had no place to move became the default target. The fabric absorbed the sweat and I reached office feeling quite disgusted.

If dealing with the rainy bouts in Shillong was almost an everyday ritual, the extreme seasons here in Delhi, the summer heat and winter chills still is difficult to cope with. Although winter is very cold back home too. Working and travelling at nights made the winters here much worse. Especially when the bus had quite a few missing glass panes. It would become a torturous experience when I happened to 'dress down' a little.

The most pleasant rides in a bus that I ever had had were in Singapore. The tropical climate meant it would be warm the whole year round. But the air-condition in the buses made it all too comfortable. It would get crowded but it never would be jam-packed! And if dealing with the bus conductors can be a hell of an effort in Delhi and very rarely in Shillong, Singapore had done away with it altogether. Most had e-card for the buses which we just need to tap on the machine when we enter then tap again when we exit. For those without cards, they can insert the exact fare and get the ticket issued automatically. One had to press buttons on the bars and polls to indicate that one wished to alight at the next stop.

Well, the new buses that were launched a few years back in Delhi, sure is a sign of good things. But it would need proper organisation and better scheduling and monitoring to make it as easy a ride as in Singapore. What cannot change is the sweltering heat. And that makes travelling in summer in Delhi a very unwelcoming experience.