Sleepless

She tossed uneasily in a restless slumber. Each night she retired to bed wondering what exhausted her more – the nightmares that did not let her sleep soundly, or the nightmarish reality she found herself living every morning? Perhaps, this whole life had been one big mistake.

“If you wish to call it that, at least acknowledge it as a beautiful mistake,” he said.

Her eyelids rolled upwards, and then she rolled them back in – she really was in no mood to open her eyes. “When did you come?” she asked. “I’ve missed you; you know!”
He looked at her serene face that now showed the hint of a faint smile. “I’m right here. Why don’t you just open your eyes.”
She felt him crawl into bed and settling down beside her. “I’ve really missed this,” she sighed as she allowed herself to be spooned. It had been a tiring day, but she knew that he already knew that. He always knew everything. And he always accused her of the same.

She allowed her mind to travel back to the time of their parting. He was the wanderer on a mission to discover new lands. She was the North Star meant to stay fixed. Even if it was in a sky of chaos and muddle. It hadn’t taken him long to realize that no matter how far he went, his compass always pointed in her direction. She was still the point around which his whole world turned. Yet she knew she had to push him away. He was meant for greater things. She too had a different purpose. “It won’t matter,” she had said. “Life’s short, and we’re only here for a brief period of time. Let’s just live our purpose, collect these experiences, and meet on the other side?” It had seemed to be the most sensible thing to do at that time.

As she snuggled up to him, she mumbled, “I wish you were really here. Things are just so easy when you’re around. When I’m lying next to you, in your arms, time seems to have come to a standstill. There really is nothing more I find myself desiring out of this life.”
“I needed this too,” he said, gently kissing her forehead. “You’re my favourite place to go to when my mind needs peace.”

Dreaming of being in the other’s arms, both had a good night’s sleep after ages. The nomad in him wondered how the cosmos managed to travel the world every single minute, every nano-second, every single day. What from him had travelled through into her world even after he’d left? And what part of her had still not left his side? Did anyone ever really leave? Was there any place in the Universe where they could just park themselves forever? Did such a place even exist?

“Not yet,” smiled the Devil. “And, perhaps, never,” and once again, sucked them into the world of nightmares. But it didn’t really matter anymore. 

“Everything is an illusion,” her voice served as a reminder calling out to him even amidst those nightmares.
“And that’s no excuse to not experience everything,” he chuckled and dozed off thinking of her – his favourite illusion.

Universal Dilemmas

The stars burned like the memories of brighter days, light years away from when I now drive past in my car. Do they represent a map of beautiful moments from my past or a future without? A dilemma perpetually stands before us in the guise of two roads not taken - a divaricate, bi-forked future, an only-seemingly simply choice that keeps us up days and nights. Do we let go of our pasts or hold on to it and make peace with the future? Or do we hold on to both with what is left of a thin string, frayed at both ends?

None of us have the capacity to wait in the anticipation. The stars have seen what is yet to happen and we cannot. These trials and tribulations in life make us and break us. We have no choice but to talk to the moon on our many solitary nights together, as we take the walk and pause before the roads in front of us and take none.

We live lives riddled with dilemmas, problems, and sorrow. And whom do we blame for these dilemmas that span space and time?
The Universe, right?
We blame the indefinable Universe. Could we ever possibly define the same? What really is the Universe, and what is Life?

What is the Universe but a swirling eddy of moments and people lost forever in the blink of an eye?
Gone.

What is the Universe but a vast sandbox surviving because of the entropy of dancing sand particles?
We’re dust to dust, them and us; chaotic, but in peace.

What is Life but an archaic spider-web perfectly spun in the riddled lace and taffeta of punch drunk love?

Oh, Life. It hangs on by a thin, thin thread, trying to stitch up the cuts that time made on its arms.

What is the Sunshine but a handprint on our hearts?
What is the Rain but these very crocheted hearts coming apart?

The thread lies not in the hands of the puppeteer, or maybe so. Break free. The loose ends of the life you spun are to be rewritten by you. We thread life up and reel it in.

What is a Story but a beautiful lie; a horrific truth; a beginning, middle and an end to the secret garden, stolen books, and arcane memories?
Volatile, yet liberating, eccentric, but a thrill like no other.

What is Nature but poetry in motion?

The lightning, in its very psychedelic nature, sets fire to the menacing thunderstorm and blossoms into the bloom of spring,

What is Luck but an unanswered wish for fortuitousness originating from the depths of our unfathomable minds?
Poor Luck - always blamed for us getting lost in this dazzling maze of life, building living graves for our hollowed out corpses.

What is the Universe but a treasure hunt for a treasure that’s already yours?
Peter Pan searched not-too-far; the ticking crocodile still awaits Captain Hook.

What is the Universe but sheer indefinable beauty in all its mosaic jigsaw puzzle glory?
It may be incomplete and broken, but it is beautiful and unimaginably perfect.

What is the Universe but You?

Lights

In the course of our life, on one fine, seemingly ordinary day, we cross paths with someone with whom we feel a bizarre sort of connection. For some inexplicable reason, we feel more attached to this stranger than anyone else. The stranger feels closer to us than our closest family member, and even more dependable than our best friend. And after that, life is no more the same…

The stranger almost feels like our guardian angel. Everything is so perfect that surely only the Gods could have sent them! There is some truth in this – they definitely are in our life for a Higher purpose. Perhaps, to teach us an important lesson, or to just protect us during a difficult phase. Worries just seem to evaporate in their presence, and there isn’t any sorrow so great that it doesn’t fade away in the comforts of their arms. We put our complete faith in them and even if there are times when trouble does brew up in this La La Land, everything clears up in due time.

However, it’s always wise to remember that they aren’t ours for keeps no matter how strongly we grow to love them. They may enter our lives as Saviours, but they cannot do this job all their lives. At some point, instead of blindly submitting to them as our protectors, we need to take the reins in our hands and learn the art of saving ourselves. That is when the process is fully complete and their purpose fulfilled.

After fulfilling their purpose, they may just exit our lives and become strangers to us again. That will hurt. With the mask of the guardian angel off and the halo lifted, one may wonder what was so special about them that made us give them the power to hurt us and leave us in disarray.

If ever such a thought crops up, remind yourself that you are walking towards the wrong end of the tunnel. While the whole world may appear bleak and dark, and you feel that you cannot see any light around you as your continue plunging into the darker depths of the tunnel, there will always be light coming from you. Never forget that. Even if you cannot see it, everyone else can.

We are all lights leading the way for one another. It is the light in us that enables us to see the light in others. If ever you find yourself being immersed in a world of darkness, remember all you need to do is to look within – your inner light is all that you need to light up the whole world!

Keep Shining!

13 Reasons Why Not

To you who felt that the screams of your pain remained unheard,

And to you who needed a corpse to remember that you’re still alive,

Welcome to your tape…

Tape 1, Side A

I know life is not your favourite colour at the moment, and you are seeing everything in black and white, but honestly, even seeing things from just a black-and-white filter is better than being blind.

Personally, no colour will ever be brighter and purer than black and white. And black and white always merge to form shades of grey. It’s not easy recognizing people as warriors fighting a battle every single day, doing the best they can to not let their dark side overshadow their good, but everyone is a fighter. So are you! We’re all fighting battles every day. It’s alright if some days we don’t emerge as winners. Tomorrow we shall try again.

Tape 1, Side B

The world is not simple enough to just accommodate black, white and shades of grey. Everything began with a white palette and then you were handed the paint-brush. Even if you have lost sight of it, the paint-brush is still with you.

It’s still your life, your easel, your soul. Do it up with any and as many colours as you want! How you choose to paint your life is completely your choice!

Tape 2, Side A

Do you remember that clear night when you lay in bed and stared out of your window, gazing at the stars shining in the sky?  

Stars are nothing but carefully bandaged lights, aren’t they? Just mark all the memories that hurt you, so that they can become the stars that enchant you…

Tape 2, Side B

Stargazing in the city is a rare feat. Just paint your bedroom ceiling with the starry skies and the heavens above! You can then live under a dazzling sky every night.

Or just get out of your room and paint the town red. Red would suit the town more than your wrists, my love!

Tape 3, Side A

It’s alright to question. It’s alright to wonder. It’s okay to just talk. Shout if you must, scream if you need to, but please speak. I know you don’t want them to hear you, but there is always someone who’s ready to listen. There is always someone who’ll want to listen to you, not to a map of cassette tapes. You are more than a map of crisscrossed pain pathways. You are so much more than that!

Tape 3, Side B

I know you think that you are not enough. You feel you did not matter enough for them to save. No matter how hard you tried, you never were enough, even when you did your very best.

Guilt is not what you need to satiate, honey. You matter immensely. You are so much more than just ‘enough’.

Tape 4, Side A

We’ve all had some hot chocolate friends. And then there were the caffeine-addicts. You’ll also come across the white-collared whiskey-drinkers or the ones who are perennially on a juice-cleanse.

People come and go in pairs, threes, and fours, and so does pain. No one is meant to last forever. Even pain will not last forever.

Tape 4, Side B

Life is filled with joy and the chaos of happiness. Life is also sad from time to time. How else would we be able to appreciate the good times if we haven’t ever experienced anything bad?

Life’s a mixture of good and bad times. That’s just what life is. Life cannot be used as an excuse to not love yourself. Life cannot be used as an excuse to just give up.

Tape 5, Side A

Life is like a novel with many chapters. Some good, some bad. There are some great stories in the book of your life. Your laughter is like music to the ears, every time you speak, it’s like poetry oozing out of your mouth, your entire mind is a museum and every thought of yours is a work of art.

If only you saw yourself through my eyes…

Tape 5, Side B

You are so beautiful! Crimson love is present in your blood, and it is love that flows through your veins, making you the most loving person in the entire universe.

Your beautiful heart is like the crown jewel of your entire being treating everyone it meets with compassion and care. If only you could treat yourself with the same amount of love that you bestow on others…

Tape 6, Side A

You are like light. If you didn’t glow, darkness would engulf all in its path and instruct many to just live half-hearted lives.

Without your shine, they would be comatose; just lost in a world of life, a living grave of their childhood hopes and dreams. You are the light they need to let the night turn into day.

Tape 6, Side B

You are the light synonymous with life. It would be a shame if you would not love yourself for shining bright.

Go ahead. Radiate. You are not meant to burn.

Tape 7, Side A

You are meant to live another day, my dear light. I see you wandering at night staring at the stars. There is an unknown puzzle that you seek to solve, a journey that you hope to sight…Hiding from the day-star and only conversing with the moonlight, why do you not wait for dawn to arrive?

Let the Sun be proud of its progeny, after all?

Love,

Someone who genuinely believes you’re worth it. 

Pieces

She sits down on the floor and makes no move. She sits and does nothing. She knows she wants to think, but she just can’t. She has been paralyzed, but with what?  The blade goes back and forth, back and forth. Back and forth, it makes a sound, almost like some melody. It hurts. It pains and pains. It pains a lot. She smiles. She keeps feeling the pain, and the pain keeps intensifying. She laughs.

Her entire room is dark. She has been sitting down far too long. Today’s the day, she decides. She thinks that this is it. Today is the day. And then, it suddenly stops. No more sound, no more melody. There is red around her…Staining red…But she is still able to get up. Her wrist oozes the most stunning vibrant red, but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed. Turns out today wasn’t the day after all…

She gets up from the floor as the sunlight falls on her face almost mocking her existence. With a smile, she covers her face, and with a long-sleeved kurta, her scars and steps out to brave yet another day.

There’s something about her, something that’s strange, and something that’s unique. She does not appear broken, but he can hear the shrill cries inside her. She seems strong, she seems happy, but he can see the numbness in her eyes, and hear the pain in her voice. She’s probably made a deal with her demons, and yes, they have left her alone, but he realizes they took something with them in exchange – a part of her soul. Each time, she feels love, the crater in her soul longs to be filled.

Nobody ever sees her for what she is. No one misses a part of her. But, there are times, when she does miss some old part of herself. He notices her looking around for pieces. He wishes he could paste them back. Tiny pieces that may seem insignificant to the world, but they still belong to her, and she wants them because they are hers to take back, hers to place back. There are moments when she stands to search for them and place them back, and then the reality hits her, and it hits him too with harder force. He can see the pain behind those gorgeous eyes of hers. He wants to be there to fill in the blank spaces that she leaves behind every time she walks. He wants to be the shine of her eyes, the strength of her voice, and the reason for her happiness.

He wants her to feel loved, to feel happy from within, and become the symbol of hope and tranquillity that she is capable of becoming. He sees her for what she is – someone born to lead, not to lurk in the shadows. She is a being of purity and integrity.

He knows that she can cradle the existence of this small world of theirs one day, but today, he lets himself be consumed to bring light upon her so that she herself is able to shine one day. He knows that by doing so, he’ll be losing a part of himself, but for her, it will be totally worth it. 

Faceless Stories

Everyone has their own reason for waking up every morning, or “a reason for being”. The Japanese call this “ikigai”. All of us have so many different reasons for jumping out of bed (or, as in my case, crawling out). It could be a compulsion to meet the minimum attendance percentage required in college (most college-students’ cases!), or, maybe, to just meet up with friends, to take up a new challenge that life throws our way – carpe dium. Reasons could be many – perhaps, to just hug your parent, or cuddle with your pet, or even crank up some silly music and goof around in your PJs. Maybe, you just like to see the sun rise and hear the birds chirp. The dawn gives you hope, light beyond the dark, and a chance to start afresh – a new beginning. Since the chance can be grabbed, why not?? Even though we might not all be morning persons, there is always that one reason in our life that gives us the belief and the hope of another day. It’s the belief we take with us to sleep at night and hold on to – and that is how life goes on…Really. Days, weeks, months, years pass by for these little reasons that make us “want” to wake up to a bright, new day. Reasons that keep us alive. These “ikigais” are something that just makes us so much more similar to each other than we realize…These “ikigais” are the faceless stories that are common not just to you and me, but also to stories we do not perceive, or realistically, choose not to perceive.

Last month, I had the unbelievably amazing opportunity to attend a workshop in Rishikesh and the lessons I learnt there – I could not have learnt them anywhere else. Amongst the various life-lessons the workshop taught me, one was that no matter where you go, which language you speak – everyone is one and the same...Flesh and bones…With the same hopes and dreams, same reasons to wake up every morning, same fears and insecurities. We are all watching the same movies, listening to the same songs and fighting the same battles.

Let me now get back to the title of my post – Faceless Stories. These stories are merely just every single person around us. The crowds that we get lost in, in shopping malls or in the middle of a crowded street. They include our batch-mates and our colleagues. Our parents. Our teachers. Even the celebrities we adore and worship. How much do we really know about their lives? Have we ever really stepped into their shoes and seen for ourselves what living their life felt like? How many times, before placing a judgment, have we stopped to ask ourselves what that person’s life has been like? Forget about each and every day, have we ever lived even one day in his life? If not, then, what gives us the power to decide for ourselves what ‘might’ that person be like, or what his life ‘might’ be like. We paint a face what in reality is nothing more than a faceless story…A novel that we are NOT the author of. This serves as the building block to all the pandemonium that we see around us, today. Clouded judgements and influenced perceptions.

Being absolutely non-judgmental may not be possible for all of us. All I feel is that – yes, we may be different from each other, but then, if all of us are different together, then in that, we are all similar. So yes – we are in all entireties, the same. I do not ask you to not judge. I ask you to not judge people by your own standards. Everyone around you is trying to hold on to their “ikigais”, fulfil their dreams, fight their demons, win their battles - and all unbeknownst to you. 

Faceless Stories - Scenario 1:

As you walk home after an exhausting day, a cute seven-year-old skips along the pavement holding her mother’s hand. You smile to yourself and say, “What a cute little girl!” and then something else catches your mind. Little did you know that the cute seven-year-old won her first poem recitation competition in school that day. She was given a certificate and everyone clapped for her. The certificate is now safely kept in a pink folder in her school bag that is slung across her mother’s shoulders. Her mother cannot help but smile a proud, little smile. The mother is reminded of her school-days. She remembers her days in school when she was great in debates and is so happy that her daughter is following her footsteps and enjoying public speaking. She can’t wait to reach home and announce via Facebook proudly before the world about how her daughter won a prize.

At home, the cute, little girl snuggles in bed clutching her teddy bear and soon drifts off into a dream world where she fantasizes about receiving ten more certificates and trophies that’ll adorn her bedroom, and more claps, more hugs, more Facebook statuses, more praises.

Faceless Stories - Scenario 2:

Your boss has just announced your promotion in front of the entire office. As everyone is busy cheering and congratulating you, you observe a colleague, who is a good friend of yours, slightly moving to a corner, with no smile on his face, fidgeting with his phone, and you immediately realize, “He wanted this promotion. Now he’s jealous of me.” Your colleague notices you looking at him and smiles, but you can make out it is forced. You make up your mind to stay away from him as far as possible. He has no idea about your decision. Just a while ago, he found out that the girl he really loved is marrying another man and he’s heartbroken. However, he does not want to share his bad news with you at a time when you are celebrating your success. He decides to shake off his grief and join in the merrymaking even though he does not feel like it. He is happy that he at least has a friend at work.

Faceless Stories - Scenario 3:

Your date just stood you up. As you sit by yourself, blinking your eyes rapidly to stop the tears from flowing, you suddenly hear a delightful scream! The woman on the table in front of you has just been proposed by the man of her dreams, and she's said 'yes'. You stare at the happy couple in anger and mutter to yourself, "Life's not fair! How can they rub their happiness on my face." You don't notice the sigh of relief on that woman's face. You do not see the creases on her face, caused due to incessant nights of worry. For the last ten nights, she has not slept a wink. "How do I tell him that I am pregnant with his child?", "Will he accept me and the baby?", "What do I do now?" - that is all she's been thinking. Finally, she can have a restful sleep tonight. Her baby is going to have a father figure after all. Life's good again. The man too can see nothing around him; he's too engrossed staring into the eyes of the woman he loves. It's time for him to become responsible now, take charge. He cannot behave like a child any more, because an actual child is going to come into his life - his own baby. He just cannot believe it!

Faceless Stories - Scenario 4:

You're having a great time with your friends. All of you have had a few too many drinks. Your friend insists on driving the car, and even though you know it isn't right,  you let him. The music is loud and all of you are singing along, having the time of your lives. You do not notice the man crossing the road, and by the time you do, it's too late. He's gone, and your friends just drive past the empty roads without even turning back to look at him. "He seemed poor...Was probably homeless...No one will miss him...Let's not get into any trouble...Run! Drive fast!" and you and your friends have escaped. It's been a week and life goes on for all of you. There are a few moments plagued with guilt, but nothing so extreme that you aren't able to focus on the task at hand. You just shrug off the ill feeling and get back to work. Back in an old dilapidated house, a visually impaired father is desperately waiting for his son's arrival. The neighbours feel his son abandoned him because taking care of the sick, old man was no easy task. The old man hears these whispers every day and wonders what is it that he did that drove his son away. 

There are so many more faceless stories just like these. Everyone around us, making their way home by the roads they know best - roads that we probably would have got lost on, till we made a phone call and asked them to repeat the address again...Because everyone around you has a life outside of yours, complete with their own thoughts, feelings and emotions. You could potentially just be a passing figure on the street to them. Every random passerby you encounter is living a life as vivid and as complex as yours - populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk…

Let them write their own novel, a novel that you do not need to write a book review of!

Let There Be Light

Suzanne Collins may be widely known for the Hunger Games trilogy, but years before she became popular, I remember being a fan of another series written by her - the Underland Chronicles. And I really liked the series! Now, in the Underland, a world within our world (or rather below it, to be precise), the word “light” is synonymous with the word “life.” This was years ago, but the only reason I mention this reminiscence is because I have only lately realized that for the current optimist in me, this was one of the earlier forms of positive reinforcement I encountered. In the words of Stephen Hawking, “However bad life may seem, where there is life, there is hope.”

So the formula goes:
Life = Light
Life = Hope
Light = Hope

Ever since we slid out of that primordial slime, our unifying cry has been for more light. Light in so many different forms – sunlight, torch-light, candle-light, neon, incandescent lights that banish the darkness from our caves to illuminate our roads, and the insides of our refrigerators. Big floods for the night match at Eden Gardens. Little tiny flash-lights for those books we read under the covers when we’re actually supposed to be fast asleep. Light is more than watts and foot-candles.

Light is a metaphor. Light stands for knowledge, light is life, light is light…

When we were children, we were afraid of the dark at some point or the other. While psychologists believe fear of darkness is not a natural fear (after all, we live in dark wombs from the time of conception to birth), it is still a very valid fear – darkness stands for the unknown. It stands for oblivion. Time passes and we are no more children. We grow up. Monsters under our bed turn into monsters in our heads. Perhaps that is why, more times than often – we are afraid of the light. And what could be sadder? We are always on this never-ending pursuit of happiness, yet we keep finding reasons to lose our way. Hope is everything. Hope is the light that guides us home, to happiness.

Hope is being able to see that light despite the despair and darkness. Yet we still fear the uncertain, the unknown. Earlier, we feared the darkness, and as we grow old, many of us start fearing the light. It’s hard to say which fear is worse – a child’s fear of the dark, or an adult’s fear of the light? Or perhaps, both are just the same. Nevertheless, what’s important is that we move past these fears. Yet we seem unable to do that. Why?

In Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Dumbledore had said, and I quote, “Happiness could be found in the darkest of times, if only one remembers to turn on the light.”
This thought is iterated and reiterated throughout the series. Let’s take Ron Weasley and the Deluminator as an example - the Deluminator did not just turn off the lights, it was a beacon of hope. The light showed him the way; like a lighthouse would to a ship on a stormy night lost at sea, or a lantern to a passerby on a foggy evening. The main point I am trying to make here is that Ron Weasley was not afraid to let the light show him the way. For anyone who wonders why light symbolizes hope, this would make perfect sense…
Because light is what we wake up to every single day – to sunlight and a new beginning. It has been said that with the flight of the morning, through a heart of darkness shall always emerge the light.

If there is only one lesson to be learnt from a lifetime on this planet – I feel it would be this: light shall always trump darkness. I see it as a universal truth, if you may. A single candle is illumination enough to show you the way. Hope. Hope could mean the “light at the end of the tunnel”, hope could refer to a “driving force”, but hope is a matter of perspective. I like to believe that hope is everything. Lumos > Nox. Where there is life, there is light.

“For, the world may be broken but hope is not crazy!”
- John Green

Far Far Away

After ages, I am reconnecting with my love for Neil Gaiman. Paraphrasing G.K. Chesterton, he wrote, “Fairy tales are more than true – not because they tell us dragons exist, but because they tell us dragons can be beaten.”

I love fairy-tales. Some people say for a twenty-seven year old, my love for fairy-tales actually borders on obsession. Somewhere I feel they’ve cast a spell on me that does not have or need a cure. To many, this may seem immature, weird or even childish and I have had my fair share of “Aren’t you too old for…?” questions, but I don’t mind. Really. For there is no feeling that I would ever choose over the magic and hope you feel running through your veins when the shoe fits Cinderella or when Sleeping Beauty awakens or when Wendy flies for the first time.

J.M. Barrie said it best when he said, “All the world is made of faith, and trust and pixie dust.” This just happens to be all we need too. But we let reality get in the way, and I wish we didn’t let that happen. I do not see why Neverland has to be left in the fairy-dust. And I most definitely do not understand why we cannot keep the hope we once had as children alive and afire. Like it has been said, growing old is mandatory, growing up is optional. What happened? Why did people have to go from loving fairy-tales as children to mocking them as teenagers? Don’t tell me, “Life happened. We’ve changed and we’re now moving past our former selves – we don’t know us anymore.” Yes, life is frustrating, chaotic and sometimes unbearable, and we cannot really do much about it. Dark clouds block the sunshine often for me as well – but what I do to pull myself out of this is wish ‘Once Upon a Dream’ like Aurora or ‘Let it Go’ like Elsa. The point is fairy-tales do not deny the existence of heartache, despair or sorrow, but they do deny defeat, failure and unhappy endings.

The lessons we learn from fairy-tales are no different from the lessons learnt for life. Yes, you do not need to believe in poisoned apples or pumpkin carriages but believe in the themes that these stories are rooted in. Fairy-tales, in all entireties, are not an escapade from realistic situations – our world is not unlike theirs, in which both good and evil exist. The difference could perhaps be that we don’t have magic or a Fairy Godmother to save us from the clutches of evil. But, perhaps, we’re so accustomed to being Muggles that we do not realize that magic exists. A good heart, a spoonful of courage to use kindness and goodness wisely and humour – that’s all the magic one really needs.

Once upon a time – for that is how all stories should begin – your story began, truer than true. And they all lived happily ever after – for that is how all stories should end – and yours will too. Life is a story with good parts and bad. How would you know happiness without knowing the sad?
If you do not like the story you are in, leave and find your own happily ever after. The best thing about fairy-tales is probably how applicable they still are in our lives – of course not literally, but metaphorically or symbolically – and how we are so oblivious to it all…
It may have been centuries since Little Red Riding Hood took on the Big Bad Wolf or Dorothy defeated the Wicked Witch of the West, but “Fear” has not changed. We were frightened as children, we’re possibly more frightened now. What frightens us today might not be what frightened us back then, but it is just a different wolf, a different witch. And we still need to battle them.

“Fairy tales since the beginning of recorded time and perhaps earlier, are the best means to conquer the terrors of mankind through metaphor.”
- Jack Zipes

I feel this is what seems to be the most sensible approach to feeling better about the world that we live in – if we could only believe in making our own magic.

"Stories you read when you're the right age never quite leave you. You may forget who wrote them or what the story was called. Sometimes you'll forget what precisely happened but if a story touches you, it will stay with you, haunting the places in your mind you rarely visit."
- Neil Gaiman

One of my favourite metaphors is the following:
Just like the Baby Bear’s porridge in Goldilocks and the Three Bears, the universe is “just right”. Happy endings need not exist just in fairy-tales. I love fairy-tales and while I may not believe in magic mirrors, or Fairy Godmothers granting me the most exquisite glass slippers (shoes are quite expensive in real life!) but I do believe in the idea of hope and love, which runs from the end of one story to the beginning of another – the idea that happiness does exist. Love believes when you don’t. That is all the motivation and validation I usually need to get on with my life. The ‘bare’ necessities if you know what I mean!

To wrap this all up with a flick of a wand, I wish you all find the same joy and inspiration that I do from fairy-tales.  Fairy-tales have the beauty of always giving one a simpler, newer perspective of things, a transformation of ideology from “I wish” to “I will” and a belief in trust, kindness, goodness, hope and love.

I wish you all Hakuna Matata and lots and lots of love! There is life beyond the stone tower in which you’ve enclosed yourself. Set yourself free, and go seek your kingdom of Far-Far-Away!

Chrysalis

Don’t we all love butterflies? Well, maybe not all – I know my brother was scared of butterflies as a kid (yes, laugh all you want!) – but I’ve always been inspired by them to a huge extent. The first tattoo I got was of a butterfly…

I really feel that Nature is the best teacher. I mean – look at the butterflies! Magnificently hued and the objects of everyone’s envy! But then again, I wonder: what do we envy? We envy their beauty, we envy the fact that they blossomed from relatively ugly, green caterpillars to luminescent self-propelled flowers, if I may put it that way, and we envy everything we cannot be and cannot do. Human nature…

Just some time ago, while reading random facts online, I found out that butterflies have short life-spans. Yes, the longest may be a year, but their average life-span is a mere five days to two weeks. When I read this, I remember thinking to myself that this was yet another example of the law of impermanence in life. Nothing lasts forever. Now, that is both good news and bad news. What really was the point of being so beautiful if your life was merely fourteen days long, at the very best? Ironically, two weeks later, I got the answer to my question. Mother Nature’s mysterious ways cannot be undone; these fractals of our amazing world are here to inspire all of us, if only we paid a little more attention.

The butterfly counts not the days or weeks it has, but the moments it has, and that is time enough…

Today a caterpillar, tomorrow a butterfly. We should never lose hope of what tomorrow might bring. Despite all the heartache, sorrow, pain and insecurities, we are all butterflies waiting to happen. Just when the caterpillar thought life was over, cocooned in darkness and misery, it transformed into a butterfly.

The caterpillar thought, “It is the end of the world.”
The butterfly realized, “It is the beginning of the world.”

The struggles, the battles you fight today, prepare you for tomorrow. They help you develop the strength and make you realize that you need to fly. You might feel that you are about to fall, but butterflies can’t see their wings, can they? They can’t see how beautiful they are, but people around them can. People are like that. We really are butterflies waiting to happen. People are like butterflies and the world is our chrysalis.

A month ago, I found a dead butterfly. It’s not the most common sight. Incandescent green wings, unimaginably beautiful…Dead…It really is not every day that you find a dead butterfly. Until I held it in my hands, its frayed wings, I could have lived in the bubble that butterflies are fairies that come out of nowhere, entertain us with their beauty and disappear into nothingness soon thereafter. But no life is unfair…and fair: an integration of happiness and sadness; change. Change is the only constant. And probably, that is the biggest lesson we can learn from a butterfly.

If nothing ever changed, there would be no butterflies. If nothing ever changed, clear, blue skies would not follow storms. If nothing ever changed, life would have no meaning.

Just like the butterflies, we will awaken in our own time. We really are just butterflies waiting to happen…

Goodbye 2016!

It’s the last few days of the year. Goodbye, 2016. Finally, this year has come to an end – a year that was a total roller-coaster ride in terms of emotions, memories, and achievements. In hindsight, it was just like any other year I suppose. Some part of me is glad it’s coming to a close, a part of me is not (I mean what do I do if the coming year turns out to be worse than this one!). Excuse my cynicism, it’s a side-effect of ageing. To be honest, cynicism is nothing other than disappointed idealism; something I realized the other day when my best friend was trying to drill in my head that a few bad days do not account for an entire bad year. To be entirely honest, it has been a good year – a year full of lessons and clichéd inner awakenings that are again a part of the natural growing-up process.

It’s weird looking back at who I started 2016 with, and who I’m ending 2016 with…Who I was a year ago, and who I am right now. I am a much happier person today than I was at that moment. I may not have changed for the better, but I’ve definitely changed for good. I feel closer to my companions, I feel more at home than I’ve ever been. 2016 has been a whirlwind of change, yet I still feel centered. This brings me to what I wanted to talk about – change (what they say is the only constant in life!). We love it, we hate it, but in the end, we just have to deal with it because there is nothing else we can really do about it. People change, ideas change, situations change, and before you know it, the year ends and you are a completely different person – or, perhaps, as I’d like to believe, a newer, improved version of yourself.

Reality is subjective, but 2016 has made me aware, to some extent, of what is real and true; and as I’ve allowed myself to be awakened to my feeling of being, I realize that it was everything that I already knew. I am what I am trying to become and achieve. I do not become loving, I am love. I do not become sincere, I am sincerity, and so on. So yes, that’s it. The ocean persists, waves come and go. You are the entire ocean in a single drop and not a single drop in the ocean. Life happens. Moments come and go. Just seize every moment.

I’ve noticed people getting annoyed at my optimism. Few have managed to muster courage and ask why I am happy all the time. There are many who claim they can never imagine me being sad. I just feel that people fail to understand – I am not happy all the time, and I can be sad too – last year, was particularly hard for me, and there have been moments where I’ve been in the depths of despair. But, I feel that if there could be an accurate measurement – life would actually be finite suffering and infinite hope. For me, what I learnt in 2016 was that being negative is a sure-shot guarantee for ruining things. Being positive, on the other hand, might just make a difference…or it might not. But I am willing to take that risk. Hope…Hope is everything. If you haven’t found it, keep looking. I hope you will find what you are looking for, the coming year.

The most important lesson I have learnt in 2016 is that you should just seize the moment and tell people how important they are to you. Not because they could leave at any moment or because they could return to you, but because they matter and it’s worth saying something. Parting ways with people forever is easy, but when you find someone you want to keep around, you should do something about it. You get 31,536,000 seconds in a year. Have you used at least one of them to tell someone they mean a lot to you? I did in 2016.

I could go on and on and on. The memories and lessons, good or bad, have been countless and unforgettable. You survived. So did I. And now, we’ve stumbled onto another blank canvas. Paint a masterpiece. Write a bestselling novel. Contribute to humanity in any way you can. I’ve learnt a lot the past year, including the fact that you are only as insignificant and irrelevant s you convince yourself to be. It’s not wrong to be upset or sad or cynical as long as you can shake it off and let go. Letting go was a particularly difficult lesson to master for me, and it’s a lesson that still needs to be fully learnt. Another lesson – it’s not weak to be afraid or sad, it’s human; and actually a tiny reminder that you have something to lose, and gratitude is the way to go.

Take a breath and pause. Reflect on the year gone by. Hold precious memories close. Forgive. Let go. Believe in second chances. Love and be loved. That’s what New Year is all about. It’s time to make a new start and let go of the past– just take some moments to say that final good-bye. 

You Against The World

I could think that the sky above me is pink. When it rains, down come nachos! All the trees are red due to excess of anthocyanins. Maybe, people around me have purple hair, gray hands and feet. Our blood is blue, and penguins run the government.

It is easy for me to imagine such things, but I wonder if I would be able to tell you these thoughts? If I did, I’m sure you’d laugh; or say, “Gosh, what is wrong with you? When did you stop sounding sensible?” or maybe you’d dismiss the whole affair as “funny stuff” or a joke. But, what if that makes perfect sense to me?

We all have thoughts that we’re afraid to voice. Perhaps, we’re ingrained with the fear of being looked at as different, or being labelled “weird”. We have been trained to conform, and we pretty much do things that everyone else does, for pretty much the same reasons. We follow trends, and have our preferred self-identities. But, how real are these identities? Are they really us? Why do we care so much about what others will think, when somewhere down the line we’re also taught that they aren’t supposed to matter?

I find myself bombarded with such thoughts from time to time. Maybe it stems from a state of idleness, or maybe I’m one of the people crazy enough to believe that I need to entertain my thoughts, even if nobody else does. So, let’s take this one step at a time; and start on a journey to find our “true self”, discover who we really are, and uncover a new motto to live by – that it’s probably just us, and only us, against the universe, and that it might always remain that way…

There are so many people on this planet with bewildering diversities in thought-patterns, belief-systems, and lives, yet we all seem to have adopted the image of one “common man” who strives to get through the day, get some sleep at night, and busy himself with the humdrum of life. Everyone is doing it! You can seriously see it happening all around you.

Structurally, we are all the same molecules, we possess the same organs and our brains do not develop special structures and features on the basis of our different racial, regional or sexual background. Then, why are we trying to stand out? Isn’t all the effort going to be in vain? Since we are all so remarkably similar, let’s just try to fit in. Why should we try to think different when we all come down to the same matter? “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” Remember?

 Why must you stand out when you can fit in? Why should you try so hard to be yourself? Isn’t that thought by itself sinful? Why do you want to make your voice heard over the seas of the crowds? Why do you want your thoughts to soar high above the clouds?

It’s not easy to keep marching ahead when so many are trying to fit you in their mould. But, always remember, it’s you against the world. It is you against all of them. Stop feeling small, believe that you are Goliath. Don’t listen to the voices – they’re mistaken and are trying to confuse you too! Don’t dig your own grave by falling prey to their words. Just stand tall.

It could be a lonely night, but remember even when there’s no else, there is truth. It’s alright to be a little crazy because that is the real you. Life may seem terrible, but you have no clue – it’s actually beautiful, but the journey to the rainbows is you, just you…

In the end, it is you against the world, and this place isn’t going to be your home forever. As the lights get dim, the Universe will embrace your dark, and your light. If the Universe can, so can you. You don’t have to wait until after the end.

No one else matters. You matter. Only you.

Stop trying to fit in. Start standing out. Extraordinary people didn’t fit in. They broke the rules without caring what people thought. We are all books waiting to be written. But so many books have remained manuscripts in the mind, and never been chanced upon. You know why? Because we’re so busy trying to be “normal” that we don’t think crazy. Steve Jobs once said that those who think they’re crazy enough to change the world are the ones that actually do. Those are the books that get written. These are the people who do not apologize for being the way they are. They know that in the end, it’s going to be just them and their creator. The world does not matter. It never did.

I like me, but there are days when I find it hard to love me. Yet, I choose to believe in me. I believe in my beliefs and thoughts. It does not matter who else believes in them too, as long as I believe in them as strongly as I possibly can. I try staying away from stereotypes. I try to be the truest version of me. And those who know we well, I’m sure they’d agree. Even if they don’t, it doesn’t matter. Believe me, it makes life a lot easier. Own your true self, be yourself, and be totally unapologetic about it!

The Verdict of Love

Love appears to be a silly form of a lost-and-found game. People say that when you love, you either completely lose yourself, or you become the truest version of yourself. Does that make love the best or the worst thing we do? Somehow, unbelievably and inexplicably, could it be both?

Could love be the best of the worst?

Who fixes broken people, if not for other broken people who’ve already been ruined? Sometimes, the messiness in our pasts that drives us, connects us with the same hurt at a sub-dermal level; making us recognize in others the kind of scars we cannot see in our cells anymore despite the writings being scribbled so deep. Isn’t that love? Love may take the shadows of our soul hostage, but in that lies our freedom.

Harry Potter showed us the power of love – young Harry survived the Avada Kedavra curse because of the love his mother, Lily, shielded him with upon her death. Even as a ten-year old when I read the book for the first time, I simply accepted Dumbledore’s explanation for Voldemort not being able to touch Harry – because he was protected by love – and never questioned it. It does not take a detailed equation to believe that love and magic are linked.

Being in love is a magical feeling – every person on this planet who’s had even a stupid crush can vouch for that! It is one small, four-letter word, yet it transcends space and time, saves humanity and becomes a survival instinct. Isn’t Cooper and Murphy’s love (enter Interstellar movie-reference) one of the purest kind? Maybe, in that, love is perhaps the best thing we do. And somehow, it does seem sensible to believe that love could be the fifth dimension in which we flourish, in which we survive. Love is the key to simply existing in a manner that neither the passage of time, nor gravity, nor data can achieve. Love shows us the path of transition from one blank space to another.

Maybe, love is just like all the other forces that make up the universe – unstable, just like all the radioactive elements we know, yet a stronger, driving force than gravity could ever be. Love can be the best and the worst. Love can turn us into either the best or the worst versions of ourselves. And love is the best AND the worst thing that we do, but we need to do it anyway.  

"But love doesn't make sense. You can't logic your way into or out of it. Love is totally nonsensical. But we have to keep doing it, or else we're lost and love is dead and humanity should just pack it in. Because love is the best thing we do."
- Ted Mosby (How I Met Your Mother)

You taught me well, Ted Mosby!

Interstellar

He stared at his fellow-star tenant, and thanked her for the adventure. Space and time had fought, resulting in a break in the continuum.

The shooting star he had wished upon was already dead. He’d believed her to be infinite, but at that moment, she felt empty…As empty as the vacuum that had existed in her heart when they kept taking pieces of her and she let them. He wondered if there was any word for that.

She often accused him of acting like a storm that often came unannounced and left after uprooting her from her being. He did not dismiss that particular allegation – he was human, and storms are, anyway, named after people; nebulae are not. She was made of stardust – they’d crushed her and she’d let them. She was now going to become a star, because that is how stars are born: they crumble, collapse, burn and then finally glow. As a child, he’d stared at the twinkling stars in the sky and wished upon them, but ever since he met her, the twinkle in her eyes was all that he’d needed. Was there a word for that?

She’d wished for something that had destroyed her. Her love for him had moulded her, but, ultimately, what she’d been able to sacrifice had defined her. He couldn’t come up with a word for that.

He’d always loved metaphors even though he had a hard time coming up with original ones by himself. Yet, life had given him the biggest metaphor in her form. Together, they’d embarked on an interstellar adventure, and in the name of allies, all they had were time pirates! Unfortunately, time had always been relative…Two years, two months, two weeks, two souls who kept responding to the hurt that was taken from them. What words could he use to define that? Time was relative, yes; but the hurts were subjective. Love had managed to transform them, and though it was always transcendent, their love had never been quantifiable.

He knew she was probably laughing upon hearing of his cosmic dilemmas. To her, nothing was complicated. Love was nothing but a fleeting glimpse of eternity that would last forever; love had always been free falling, space racing, never running-away but more of a running-towards. Love was nothing other than the North Star which one could always gravitate back to.

She wanted to return home to the star they came from. He used to call them “star tenants” because he believed they’d shared the same origin star. They’d embarked on the same voyage light years ago, but their pathways had been different. However, different star trails from the same star could only stay apart for so long until parallel lines and intersecting lines lost their meaning. The heart did not know of time, space, distance or choice. Heart-strings unravelled in the same way as did the fabric of the universe – there was a break in the continuum, and in their case it was a paradox of love called love.

He used to believe that a black hole is a passage through space and time. She wished he’d understand that time always stood still, making darkness perhaps the perfect place to love somebody. He did not realize that black holes were hugely dense objects, with an inescapable gravitational pull. When he’d fall, he’d fall forever. Forever. It meant there was no way out. She wished he’d allow himself to succumb to the vulnerability, to the fall…Only if he fell, could she catch him. She wished he’d allow midnight to become the easel he’d aligned his stars on – to write of his future infinitely, just like the artist and writer he was. He needed to reel himself back in; he needed to realize that the pursuit of happiness is nothing but a secret locked for safekeeping with the diamonds in the sky.

Space and time had had a fight, resulting in a break in the continuum. There was a break in the opposite end of the spectrum. What he’d believed to be infinite had become unwritten…Unwritten like the rest of his life before him. He wondered if there was a word for that. He realized that, indeed, there was a word for that! It was nothing but love. As he stared above, there it was! Against the dark sky, he saw a ray, an age-old ballad – of science and faith, love and hope. He saw white light - a million colours that briefly splattered across the easel, an aurora lasting all of eternity. He knew it was her light and in his heart, he preserved it and cherished it while it lasted. Finally, he no longer saw a black hole as a dead end anymore.

The Call

It had been a long time since their last meeting. Every time, she missed him, she stared at the sky. After all, no matter where they were, they were all under the same sky; and they both fell asleep wishing under the same stars under the same sky they shared. People always told her that time is a wonderful healer, but she had seen how time had destroyed them – perhaps, it was too late for them to be able to salvage their situation. Time could heal, time could rip a person into pieces. But, time could not change the story. Ever since he had left, she found herself constantly swimming between two waves – the flood of letting in, and the torrent of letting go. Sometimes, she felt so frustrated that she thought it was time to just leave and turn to dust. If the essence of her life was leaving him, she wondered if she could just walk down the old path one last time, gather everything that she wanted and re-paint the entire road red. She missed the lazy evenings they spent together and wished she could just go back to simpler times. She knew there was still a chance – albeit a teeny tiny one – but she was not sure she wanted to take it. It required a lot of effort, and she wasn’t sure she could invest so much again. Besides, only a miracle could really save them, and she did not believe in miracles.

As he waited for his train to arrive, he remembered the first time he had met her. The swarm of people rushing to enter the train while she was attempting to get out had scared her. As soon as she saw him at the platform, she just rushed into his arms, and the world around seemed to have come to a stand-still. The way she’d held on to him made him feel incredible and uniquely warm. He wondered if she had ever been horrified the way she’d been that day. It isn’t everyone’s cup of tea to endure the journey on Mumbai local-trains during peak-hours, and that had been her first time. In that moment, all she’d needed was a whisper and a hug. He hadn’t quite known what to do, but on that day, she’d made it clear that trust had no faces, only promises, and her vulnerability had involuntarily made him promise that he would protect her. She was the first person from whom he learnt that the world deserves to be loved; even by broken people, like her and him. As he thought of her, he realized that what they shared was beautiful, even though it had been dead for some years. Had it really been that long, or it just felt that way because time only seemed to fly when she was by his side chattering away to glory? He realized that the night did not always need to be dark and cloudy; light always shone to drive the darkness away. After all, they lived on a blue planet that circled around a raging ball of fire, next to a moon that moved the sea – who was to say that miracles don’t happen?

The time had come for change. It was time to recover the good parts of their life. Happiness was now just a phone call away, and this time he did not hesitate as he pulled out his mobile-phone and dialled her number.