Why fight?

Now, more than ever.

I see your face, I drift away

I see a tomorrow

In the sea of thoughts, that’s a way

I see our lives, from the future that I borrow

I tremble when I walk

On me, your eyes stay

I stammer when I talk

To me, the attention that you pay

Into my eyes you gaze

With so much love and hope

And you’re lost in a maze

I feel I’m pulled by a rope

It’s overwhelming,

The level of satisfaction

It’s charming,

The amount of your affection

Strongest bond we redeem,

We are a team,

A distant world it seems,

Like a translucent dream

And I love you more

With every passing day

Than I did before

It’s what I’ll always say

I tried to live without you,

Tears fall from my eyes

For so many years, or so few

I told myself all the lies

It’s a starry night

When mysteries suddenly unravel

Hold on tight

While all of the fears dishevel

We’re gonna get through the storm

Because I cannot live alone forever

I need you in my dorm

Now, more than ever.

A story so common.

There wasn’t a waking moment when she forgot. Or forgave. The unexpectedness of his decision to leave her was what she couldn’t get over. No signs. No warnings. No hints. Nothing. Or if Rohit had been scattering them round, Aparna had completely missed them. Sure they had had their squabbles but she considered the stray storms perfectly normal.

For a person who didn’t forgive easily, she forgave everything where Rohit was concerned, leading to an establishment of pattern that suited them both. He erred – she forgave. It was taken for granted that all differences were to be settled in just one way – his. And each time they fought, it was Aparna who was left feeling rotten and vaguely guilty as though the whole thing was somehow her fault; that it was her intensity that came in the way and spoilt everything; that it was she who expected too much; demanded too much; that men weren’t supposed to be a hundred per cent honest or sincere; that it was unrealistic of her to hope that from Rohit. Wives, she often heard, were better off being somewhat indifferent. Husbands preferred to have an obsessive interest in their lives. Curiosity. Questions. Learn to overlook details, she was told. Don’t pry. Block out. Ignore. She’d tried. Trained herself to keep quiet even when it killed her.

One morning, Rohit asked for his usual coffee and while she showered, he casually packed. When she emerged from bathroom, she found him dressed and ready to leave. She towel dried herself and asked unsuspectingly, ‘going somewhere?’

‘Yes,’ he replied, lighting his ciggie.

‘You didn’t tell me. Baroda again?’ she continued.

‘Yes,’ he said coolly.

‘How long?’ she asked looking for something in her wardrobe to match her dress.

‘For good,’ he replied picking up his bag.

She turned out, jokingly threw her towel at him and continued, ‘Ha Ha! Like its that easy.’

‘It is,’ he said ducking. ‘Watch me while I leave.’

And with those words he’d picked up his Samsonite and walked out of her life. No explanations. No apologies.

Rohit was a selfish man. She knew that before they were married. Selfish and vain. But Aparna believed all the men to be the same. All the men she’d known were both selfish and vain. Including her handsome father. It wasn’t Rohit’s self absorption that bothered her as much as his ruthless streak. He had a grand design for his own life – people either fitted into it or didn’t.

Aparna still seethed when she recalled that horrifying moment. How foolish he’d made her feel. Oh God! How desperately small and foolish. Years later, she still didn’t know why or where she’d failed. Yes, the failure was hers. That’s what he’s managed to convey to her without saying a thing.

- Snapshots by Shobha De.

"True" love story.

Love Story: It’s definition (I googled) is “a tale of lovers”.

But, that’s not my concern. The idea for this blog randomly struck my mind when I saw the words “true love story” and it got me wondering. True love story, as such, has no definition.

Who decides though? Which love story is true and which is untrue? Romeo & Juliet, Cleopatra & Mark Antony , Laila & Majnu, Salim & Anarkali and some more tragic love stories are few that are considered to be ‘true’.  The stories with sad endings. And then there are movies depicting the unconditional love between a couple where one partner is diagnosed with some terminal disease eventually or the ship they are travelling in hits an ice berg and sinks.

As much as I love sappy sad stories, I hate how our notion of true love stories has now become the very idea of someone sacrificing their life either waiting for ‘the one’ or devoting their life to a dying loved one.

"True love stories never have endings."

And then there are these quotations which frame such very notion of true love in our brains.

Whatever happened to our childhood when true love meant our parents fighting ever second day and then making up to each other the next? The constant nagging and arguments followed by “ladte wo hi hain jo pyaar karte hain”. Rather, our grandparents. The time when the women in the house wore a pallu over their head and had meek expressions with eyes that never met their husband’s (atleast when they were not alone). That was also love, true one for that matter but only in a way now alien to us.

Fortunately, I haven’t seen the tragic ones around me. But when I see an old couple walking together at a market or a mall, I look at them and think that is true love. I see my parents, and there I see true love. I see my friends who sometimes fall out of relationships but I know their love was true, only it just didn’t work out. Because sometimes it’s not meant to work out. And sometimes, true love stories do end.

It was always her.

She woke up to her phone ringing.
"Hello", she muttered in her sleepy voice.
"Hi, you sound so cute. I just called you to apologize for last night and wish you morning."
"Morning", she replied with a smile on her face. "Let me get up and give you a call back?" she asked.
"Sure babe. I'll be waiting", Jay replied.

She dragged herself out of her comfortable bed and walked to the restroom. She started brushing her teeth.
"Hmm, that wasn't so bad. Maybe I can get used to this." She smiled again. After freshening up, she went to the kitchen. Caffeine was desperately needed. She decided that she'll call him later. There were other important things she had to care of before talking to him that day. She needed to think about what had happened the last night, and exactly why.

Jay and Aria had been dating for a few months now. Their's was a relationship that grew out of new friendship, they had known each other a few months before they decided they both liked each other. It was going great, until last night. Last night, they had their first real fight.
Jay was a sincere guy. He knew he wanted to be with Aria from the day he had met her. No one had understood him the way she had. No one ever will, was what he always believed. Aria, on the other hand, was a carefree girl. She wasn't used to giving much heed to emotions and feelings. She took everything as it came to her. She was smart enough to expect the least out of people, to not put her faith in anyone. She started dating Jay because she liked him just the same. He made her happy. She was reluctant initially, thinking that Jay was too sweet to handle someone like her. She was too strong with her ideals and her rules. But she still went ahead with it.
Yesterday's fight was about her insecurities, her expectations which had started to rise without her acknowledging them. It was a silly reason though. He had apologized and he tried to reason with her. In her heart, she knew he was right but she was hurt. She didn't understand why. And she ended up being really pissed, more at herself than at him. She tried real hard, but she couldn't keep the thought out of her mind that maybe it was a mistake, her relationship. Maybe they were not ready. Maybe he was not able to handle. Or maybe, it was her. She was unable to handle all the emotions and she was caught in the turmoil. She wasn't used to expecting anything at all from anyone but now she was expecting, and getting disappointed. But it was noone's fault for her expectations were unrealistic and she knew it. All the anger was hurting her from the inside and she had no one to go to. That's why she ended up fighting with him.


Caffeine helped her think straight. She needed to figure how to make things right. Reflecting upon everything that had happened last night, that she said and whatever he had explained, she finally accepted that she was very wrong. She needed to let a lot of things go and get used to being disappointed a few times here and there. After all, he had a life of his own and he won't do everything according to her. That's why she's always hated being involved with someone, she wanted things her own way and when that didn't happen, she used to get pissed. But the way he had handled her anger last night, the way he had tried to make her understand, she knew noone else would have done that.
Maybe it was never him or anyone. She was highly wrong in thinking that he won't be able to handle her in a relationship. It was her. Always have been.
She was not able to handle herself like that, like the way being with Jay was changing her. Yesterday was not about disappointment, it was about facing the reality.

Lost dreams

I want to become a doctor.

I want to become a teacher.

I want to become a pilot.

I want to become an astronaut.

I want to become Sachin Tendulkar.

I want to become a truck driver.

The most common answers to the question, ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’

A very famous-THE-most-important question asked to kids and these are their answers. In these answers lie their dreams, their aspirations and adult’s humor. The question has become too cliché and the answers have become even more cliché that no one pays any heed to them anymore. “Hah! He’s saying this now, wait for 4 years, he’ll change his mind.” The first thing that a kid’s ears catch is that statement after they have revealed their dreams. It’s just another statement to us, but for them, it’s the first push towards a road much travelled, a road that leads them to a point where they start believing that these dreams might just not come true. First thought of failure is thus incepted in their mind.

While many in-a-subtle-yet-ignorant-way demoralize their kids, some encourage theirs to dream. And dream big. But what they fail to tell their kids is that few years down the line their lives will be much more than just trying to fulfill their dreams. Males will have to take up the responsibility of the house and females will have to take up the daily chores. And both will have to study their asses off and score good, because hey, you cannot achieve your dreams unless you score good. The sound of that line is drilled into their tiny heads from the start.

Years go by and so does the question about what they’d want to become. Life gets so busy that you never think about the answer, mostly because you are never asked that question again. You are not 8 anymore, means you are in the rat race. Who cares about what you had wanted to become 4 years back? Do you?

Managing studies, home, chores, our entertainment, playing, sitting with parents, getting proper sleep, etc and the list goes on. Years go by and the list keeps on increasing. And before you know it, you are graduating with a degree you never knew of when you were young. Odds are, it’s not even in the direction of your childhood dream. But you keep going. You’re in the rat race, whether you like it or not.

Eventually, you will get a job. You’ll work. You’ll marry and have kids. Grow old and one day while sitting on the porch, waiting for your death to take over, you will decide to look back on your life (Well, apparently I have heard that old people kinda knows when their death is around the corner).

For one moment, you’ll think what was it you had dreamt of doing when you were a kid? Alas, it’ll be harder to remember than you thought it’d be.

It’s a scary place to be. So stop. And think.

What was it that you wanted to become when you grow up?

You have grown up. Now is the time to chase after your dreams. Now is the time when you should remember your dreams, and if you cannot remember then make new dreams. Because if you don’t, one day you’ll find yourself sitting with your laptop, thinking about what your dreams were and almost dying inside after realising you don’t remember your dreams.

That very moment, you’ll be lost. Lost in a way that can never be explained. Being lost is a feeling that can only be felt and then understood. Let’s hope by the time you realise you are lost, it isn’t too late.

                            

                              

Sometimes, distance is what keeps the love alive.

On a cold winter morning, she lay in her bed not wanting to get up.

She could hear parents talking in their room. The fact that the noise was reaching her ears meant they were not really talking but fighting.

To merely avoid the attention of her angry father, she chose to pretend to be asleep.

Her father was a loving man. Down to earth and a very modest person. She knew her father loved her. He was the one who taught her how to ride a bike, get back up whenever she fell, cleaned her wounds and nurtured her courage. He was the one who had given her some of the best advises about friends, boys and life in general. He loved her with all his heart and she knew it.

                                                 

But there was something about his anger that scared her to death. She feared for herself and her mother. More than that, she feared for her father's health. But a human cannot think about anyone else but him when he's in trouble. In rage, he would sometimes hit her. It was acceptable when she was young. 

Only now, she wasn't a young girl anymore. She was a grown up and with every hit she took, she felt her dignity being hurt.

Laying in the bed, she closed her eyes and found herself sitting on the beach. There was serene silence and the only noise was of waves crashing against the rocks. In the background, birds chirped their lovely song. This was her (imaginary) mountain top.

She did this often, imagining herself far away from house where she couldn't hear her father shout or fear his beating. She dreamed of finishing her education and running off to someplace else. She had vowed to not take up a job in the same city for it would mean she'd still be living at her parent's house.

Don't get her wrong. She loved her parents and the idea of leaving them hurt her inside. Her life with them was smooth, where she was pampered and they had their good moments where everyone sat together and laughed. They joked about random things and made fun of television characters. She was happy. But then there were moments that, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get them out of her head. 

Those occasional happy moments, no matter how much she wished, were not good enough for her to bear the pain.

She loved her father, more than anyone in this world. And only to keep that love alive, she had convinced herself that she will get out of there the first chance she got.

After all, sometimes you'd rather maintain your distance than lose the love.