7 Jan 2016

The day did not start as early as I would have liked it to. Or rather, I didn't start the day as early as I should have. 

I woke up a few minutes early and was a by more relaxed in the morning but I need to work on waking up even earlier.

At work, I managed to gather steam and shatter some of the inertia. I still did waste a lot of time.

At home, I continued to get stretched and stressed across priorities without actually achieving anything substantial. 

Test: In a year, if someone were to delete this day from history, would you remember it, miss it, or would it lead to any major task not being done?

Answer: NO

6 Jan 2016

I achieved very little today. 

Most of my time was spent in meaningless, trivial tasks.

It was as if I had no intention to use the day.

This is perhaps how lives become mediocre.

I have often wondered why people waste their time being mediocre. I think I see how that might happen now.

I spent my day clinging to status quo. I looked at my to do list, imagined failure, developed a fear, woke up cynicism inside me and stay put.

I didn't spend any time making my life or others lives any better.

This is a criminal act. I have murdered time. For some reason the dominating emotion that led to this humongous waste was fear.

I was afraid that I have screwed up or that I will screw up the tasks in front of me and when faced with this fear, I decided to distract myself from my present rather than deal with it head-on...

The temporary relief from a distraction seems to provide me with that sliver of happiness in which I bask until the clouds of guilt return.

Why do I sense failure though? Why do I not anticipate victory? Why do I not see a rosier future?

I anticipate failure and I succeed in getting it.

Perhaps the root cause is how I perceive myself. 

I need to visualise victory, do my best and hope for the best. 

I need to start the day with the confidence that the result is in God's hands. All that I can do is work with only victory in mind.

Goal for tomorrow:

Visualise success.

Start the day early.

Don't put yourself down.

Always smile.

'Happily ever after'

All our fairy tales end with the prince and princess living 'happily ever after'.

On this day a year back, we started a journey hoping our story turns out to be like those fairly tales as well.

But 'Happily ever after' really doesn't exist, does it?

We were certainly not happy every single day of the past year.

At some point in the last year, we both were lost and we both felt abandoned. We got angry at each other on some days, we looked at ourselves and felt helpless at times and we hurt each other on a few other days.

And I know, that this last year has been incredibly tough on you. I brought you into an alien country and I left you here to fend for yourselves. You dealt with feelings you probably never recognized earlier. You fought with loneliness, and held back your tears when I wasn't with you. 

I remember you being scared of being alone. I remember you seeing me from the cracks of your barely open eyes every morning, scared of what the day would bring with it.

I remember you fighting with doubts and fears that you never knew existed.

We both probably fought a lot of battles in the last year. Most of those were with ourselves. We taught ourselves to smile when life was tough. We loved each other even more when days were tough. We smiled and went on with our lives when life really was strange and different. We never once gave up. 

Yes, we certainly were not happy every single day of our lives in the last year.

But 'happiness' is over rated. The prince and princess probably didn't live happily ever after as all those fairy tales wanted us to believe. But you know what? The prince and the princess don't have to be happy all the time. In fact, they cannot be happy all the time. That is just impossible. All the prince and the princess need is a reason to carry on when happiness escapes the clutches of their hands. 

We don't need happiness. All we need is an answer to the "Why" whenever we're sad and broken. I think we both found that answer in the last year. We know now that life doesn't have to be perfect all the time. We know now that life will betray us once in a while. We know now that life will be painful once in a while. 

But we also know that we will love each other even more when life decides to mess things up for us.

We both know that we will take all that life has given us and make it into something extremely beautiful.

We both know that no matter how tough a day might be, it will end with us finding solace in each other. It will end with you making me smile, and with me making a fool of myself trying to make you smile.

I think we both found meaning in each other in the last year.

I think we both learned to live in the last year.

I love you.

The one who roars

A person walking by wouldn't have spotted the kid.

People who did see him, didn't consider the sight of a kid sitting alone by the river staring intently at the running waters as an oddity.

He often sat there for hours. He told his father that the riverside helped him concentrate. He told his mother that the riverside calmed him. He told Meenakshi that the riverside was too dangerous and not for little girls like her. He smiled at the thought of Meenakshi. His love for his baby sister eclipsed all the hatred he felt towards the world. She was the only reason he stayed at home.

He realized that he had unwittingly clenched his fist at the thought of home. Perhaps because he never had a home. His village, and the hundreds of villages around his, worshiped his father. His father was the wisest person on earth, they said. Sage Vishrava was a demigod. His home was a school. Students and scholars came from miles away and waited at their doorstep for an audience with his father. He'd rather stay miles away.

He looked at his reflection in the waters. His dark skin glistened in the sunlight. When he walked alongside his father on the streets, he couldn't help but imagine that people were glaring at him. He wasn't one of them.  He stood out among a sea of pale skinned people. People like his father and his step brother.

He could still remember the day he went with father to the local market and got lost. People on the road didn't believe when he said that he lived there. Some threw stones at him, some chased him down the road, as if he were a pest.

He wasn't like them and neither was Meenakshi. Their skin color bothered the people around them. Their skin color didn't let them fit in. But it was not his plight or Meenkashi's that bothered him.

It was his mother's.

They called her names.

His father had two wives. They said the Aryan wife was his father's true wife. They called his mother a temptress and a demon. Mother couldn't be a demon. He heard from someone that she was a princess once. He heard stories of how his grandfather ruled over kingdoms. He heard stories of how his grandfather fought countless wars and finally decided that it was time for peace.

They said that his father and his mother fell in love. In their love, his grandfather saw a prospect of peace. The marriage between his father and his mother was supposed to seal a pact of peace between the dark skinned raksha tribe and the fair skinned invaders.

He never sensed peace. He could never sense acceptance. At best, there was status quo.

His brow clenched at the sound of anklets. He knew who that was. He didn't bother to turn around.

"Didn't I tell you that the riverside wasn't a place for tiny young girls, Meenakshi?'

He could hear a sobbing sound.

He turned around, and faced a tiny young girl, who true to her name had the most beautiful eyes he ever saw.

She wiped the tears off her eyes and fell into his embrace.

"He said.. He said that he was father's true son. He said he will always be the one who will be known as Vishrava's son. He said that he is Sage Vishrava's son, and that I should call him Vaishravana. He said you could never be Vaishravana. He said.. he said..."

He knew that she was talking about their step brother.

He hugged her, and ran his fingers through her hair.

He looked into her wide eyes, and smiled as he pulled her nose.

She sat down on his lap and they both stared at the gushing water.

"Do you know what my name means? I am Dasagriv. The one with ten heads. One day, I will roar with my ten heads, and he will run for cover"

Meenakshi giggled.

"Let him be Vaishravana. I will be the one who roars. I will be the ten headed Ravana"

Into the sunlight

All 'fables' are our memories of events so far behind in time, that they are now too distorted to be considered facts.

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"You shouldn't mind them, Son. You shouldn't be scared". 

I remember mother saying this. She said this every night. 

I remember the raids. People, shorter than us, and weaker than us, drove us away. We went deeper and deeper into forests. We kept going until they stopped following us. Until we stopped scaring them.

We couldn't live on the ground. The forest thrives with animals we have never known. Grandfather tells me our homeland, many seas away, had denser forests, and stranger creatures. I don't know if I can believe that.

We live on trees. We had to decide between living with the tigers on the ground, and living with the snakes on the trees. We chose the trees. Snakes were easier to trap or kill, and only a few ventured near us. Slowly, we learnt live with them. We learnt to live like the monkeys, on trees, eating from the forest's hands, surviving in the hardest of conditions.

We seldom saw daylight. The trees canopied the ground. We didn't dare to step out of the trees for light. It was too dangerous. There were armies of people surrounding the forest, looking to kill us, weed us out of 'their' forests. Sunlight was a luxury. Our people worshiped the sun. The men who led our people, who fought for our people and who brought food for us were worshiped as the offspring of the sun god himself

I remember father telling me that getting scared and running deeper into the forests to live another day of freedom, was not the right way. I remember him making me go with him into the crocodile infested waters, into the dense swamps and forests in search of food. I remember running with his troops, with wood and rock in our hands as we avoided death at every turn of our way. 

My father was the quickest runner in the tribe. His troops said he ran faster than the spotted tiger. My father laughed out loud when I asked him if this was true.

"They like hearing stories, Son. They like to believe that I am the wind god himself. Imagining the wind god as their savior makes them feel safe. I run fast, faster then anyone here. Its not because I am the wind god. It is because I am strong, it is because I refuse to die as a weakling."

I wanted to be strong like father. I wanted to fight the armies and take my people to a place where sunlight was not a luxury. 

My friends laugh when they hear this. They say the armies belong to the strongest king of all lands. They say the king is so strong, he could lead his armies to the heavens and defeat the king of gods himself. His armies controlled the sun and the moon, they say, and when his armies came together, they outnumbered the trees in our forest. 

I knew it was a lie. No man could be a God. He can be stronger, wiser and more powerful than us, but he was no God. 

One day, I will go to his land and burn his palace. 

One day, I will fight his armies. 

One day, I will see the God king in his eye and tell him, that I, Hanuman, the son of the wind-god, a man whom he forced to live amongst the monkeys of the Dandaka forest, was here to end his rule. 

One day, I will lead my men out of the forests, into the sunlight.

Please

Imagine this.
Its morning. Sunlight has begun creeping up from behind the curtains and the room is lit with orange light.

You open your eyes, and manage to stand up. You scratch your bum, mess up your hair, and walk to a mirror. You have half a mind to jump back into the bed and get under that blanket. More than half a mind, infact.
But you resist.

Its probably late already. You grab your phone to look at the time. "Should be around 7:30", you tell yourself as you unlock your phone.
Your pupils dilate. Your pulse races. Its 8, and you're late.

You're still recovering from the side effects of the minor stroke you had, when you realize that your clothes aren't even ironed yet. Minor stroke turns into major stroke. You're struggling to cope with the situation, when suddenly, out of nowhere, out of the freaking blue, a bright beam of light jumps onto you and before you finish saying "what the..", you find yourself standing on an odd looking landscape.

And just like that, you've been transported to this weird place you didn't know existed. (I know this is a stretch, but lets continue imagining, shall we?)

So. That is how you reached this 'other world', or an 'alternate universe', or..or...well...you get the idea.

You quickly start analyzing your surroundings and figure out that you're standing on, what looks like, a hill top and you see a big city at the foothills. All you see from your vantage point are trees, green grass, lots of pretty houses, some with some really pretty chimneys (with smoke twirling out from them), and you see cars, trains, hawker stands, and people (nope, no aliens).

You see people walking, running, talking to one another.

So. Well. You're not going to just stand there forever now, are you?

You walk down, obviously.

You're tired, disoriented, confused, and like all tired/disoriented/confused people, you crave for coffee.

You just begin wondering if you'd get coffee in this place, and before you finish imagining the worst, you see this board that says "Starbucks".

You look at the skies and give the author of this story a resigned look that seems to say "Seriously? Starbucks? Even here?", shake your head in disbelief, and walk into Starbucks.

There's a big queue as usual. You start wondering why people would queue up for overpriced coffee at this place. Coffee should be served like it is meant to be served, you tell yourself. It should be served in a tumbler, with some froth at the top, brewed with milk...Hmmm..Filter coffee..

You snap out. You're still in that same queue.

You ask for a double shot Macchiato (as usual, you say 'Maa ki auto' while ordering, and suppress a giggle).

As you sit there, smelling that intense, delicious, dark, magical drink, you cant help but wonder where life's taking you. You begin contemplating the real meaning of life, and just as you see this chain of thought getting to a logical end, just as you're about to hit that Eureka moment... someone holds you by your hair and drags you into a big hall full of serious looking people.

They're all looking at you, and at their watches alternatively. Before you manage to get out of your daze, someone plunks a bucket full of cold, chilled water at you. Right on your head.

Another guy takes out a gun and just as you duck under the table, starts shooting yucky paint balls.

The guy next to you, kicks you on your behind, and the one ahead, sits on you and starts laughing.

Another guy starts blurting out words you don't understand, and keeps asking you to do things. Strange weird things involving words you don't understand. They sound like they mean everything and nothing at the same time.

You feel an incredible urge to grab the pen and paper put in front of you and write down stuff, but the words don't mean anything, so what would you write anyway? It all sounds important, and you feel like you'll be blamed for not writing this down. You start empathizing with Ganesha - the poor guy had to write the entire Mahabharatha as Vyaasa read it out at without a single break. Your thoughts move on from Mahabharatha to TV serials to Jungle Book to Amma's morning breakfast, when suddenly, your stomach starts to rumble, and you snap out.

You're hungry. And thirsty. You realize you haven't had a glass of water since morning. Your mouth is parched, as parched as Gujarat. You also figure out that you need to use the men's room. You wonder why your body insists on letting water out when there really isn't a single drop of water inside it. You wonder why your body cannot just recycle all that water back. You start cursing evolution, and suddenly start thinking about Dinosaurs, and just when you start humming Jurassic park's theme in your mind, some one plunks a pail of cold water at you. Again.

That's it, you think. You've had enough of this nonsense. You tell yourself that you have got to get out of this place.You tell yourself that you're going to get up and shout loudly and throw this chair onto that old guy who plonked that cold water at you. You're going to kick that guy into the well like that bearded half naked guy did in that movie whose name you don't remember. It was a good movie though. What was its name, you wonder. Your stomach rumbles. You snap out and snap in to anger mode.

You're done. This is it. They're all dead, you say. And just as you're about to get up, and hurl your chair at them, people start walking out of the room.

An old guy gives you a smile as he walks out as if to say you've done well.

You walk out of the room, dazed, groggy, tired...your head bursting with confusion.

How does that feel?

That, ladies and gentlemen, is exactly how I feel after a morning meeting.

So please, for goodness sake, for humanity's sake, no meetings at 8:30. What are we? Animals?

Stuck

"Ok. Fine Nick. We don't get it. Why don't you just explain it to us?"

Nick sat back and looked at his friends. They didn't have a clue, did they?

How can they not see it?

Was it just him? The torture, the pain, how can they escape it all?

"Do you really not go through the same pain? Does it really not bother you as much as it bothers me? It is all so harmless and innocent in the beginning isn't it? You're just sitting there. Minding your business. Youre humming your song and there's cool breeze on your face. The sun is shiny and bright and all is well with the world. All of a sudden you take that one fateful turn, that one muddled decision to try a new path against all your better judgement. The sun disappears behind a cloud of smoke, and all of a sudden there's an angry mob behind you. Ready with their loud and angry judgements. You desperately want to ignore them and move on. You try to escape but no one let's you move an inch. You're trapped. You're a slave to the crowd. And so is everyone else in the crowd.
You see time pass by. You'll realize it's your life getting wasted, and there's nothing you can do. But wait. And wait. And wait... In the mercy of the crowd. Helpless. Wasted. Ruined."

His friends were staring at him. It took a while but someone finally mustered up the courage to say what they all felt st that very moment.

"Jeez man! So you got stuck in a traffic jam. Let it go now, will you,"