Autobiography

I am walking down the cramped street that leads to a place I temporarily call home. The entire lane is bustling with people – people who are, probably, more actualized than I am, for they appear to be completely sure of where they are headed.  A part of me feels a tinge of jealousy. I wish I could walk like them with blinkers on. I feel lost and I can’t seem to focus. What troubles me more is the fact that I seem to enjoy being in this state – a part of me is secretly rejoicing at the thought that it has still not been found! As I get in touch with this part of me, another part begins its lament.

I am made up of all these parts. As a whole, I am much bigger than the sum of my parts – at least that is what Gestalt psychology would want me to believe – but if that is the case, why do I feel caught up in this tussle between the various parts of my personality? The voices in my head are constantly at loggerheads with one another – as one speaks, the other one analyses; when the other tries to make a point, the first part slashes it down with a long list of well-defined arguments. Both these parts belong to me but I find it really hard to play referee. Sometimes, life is not about making a list of pros and cons and judging which side outweighs the other.

Both these parts seem to be on opposing polarities. Is it possible for the same person to think on such extremes, I wonder. I am split in two; and each split part of me is sharing its own story. Which story is really mine? Which of the two parts is the real me? I am still to find answers to these questions.

I hide myself behind the curtains. I sneak a look at the mirror and see a reflection judging me. This same reflection is judging others too. I want to be neutral. I want an impartial view of things. But is that really possible? Am I asking for too much? After all, I am experiencing the world through my five senses – my five senses can only perceive the world as me and not anybody else. For a glimpse at another’s world, I would need to make use of their senses. We all make our own meanings out of the experiences that life bestows upon our way. This is the reason why I do not believe in a genre called ‘Non-Fiction’ even though it haunts me by silently crying out to me each time I visit a book-store. I do my best to not be lured into the trap – I know we are all just constructing our own realities; and some of us are trying to give it meaning by upgrading our experience of a perceived reality to an eternal truth.

I find it hard to believe that something is not fiction. I cannot write anything that is not autobiographical even though I have tried to do so a number of times. Detaching yourself from anything or anyone you are connected is not an easy task.  I am always dictated by my own perception of realities. You can try rationalizing with me but you might just end up becoming another voice, this time not in my head but in the field of my external reality. My senses will still continue to dominate and in the end, reason might just give up on me. Unfortunately, I tend to be ruled more by the heart than the head, these days.

I pay no heed to the suggestions that are hurled my way. Even though I pretend to shut my ears, I am still forced to listen. Some voices influence me more than others. Yes, I admit it – I am biased. I see no harm in preferring one thing over another. I am not the only one. Even your perceptions are coloured by your past. So, why am I the only one being judged? I admit that I am nothing more than an autobiography. When will you see who you really are?

Pink With A Tinge Of Red, And Several Squawking Noises!

I hate waking up early in the mornings. Getting out of bed in the wee hours of morning is a Herculean task for me. This has been one of the reasons why I have been unable to catch sight of the flamingos that flock the Sewri bay in Mumbai between the months of November and March despite living in Mumbai for almost three years now. Every year, I heard some friend or the other ranting about their wonderful experience of sighting the migratory birds and this year, I decided that by hook or by crook, I would make it to the Sewri creek.

Making it there was no easy task. On three mornings, I could not force myself out of bed despite responding to the alarm-rings. I was informed that one can catch sight of the birds even at sunset - however, something or the other kept coming up and I was not able to make it to Sewri even in the evenings. Owing to my busy schedule, I could not even make time for the 'Flamingo Festival' that was organized by the BNHS.

Not one to give up on things once I have set my mind, I started researching and found out that flamingos arrive at the creek most frequently after the high tide. After finding out the high tide timings from a website which I hoped would be reliable, I concluded that there was no point in trying to wake up at 4:30 a.m. or 5 a.m. in the morning - even if I reached before 8:00 a.m. there was a good chance of me spotting the birds.

Today morning, I finally woke up at 6:00 a.m. Accompanied by a friend, we managed to make it to Sewri and we really hoped that it would be worth the effort; and guess what? It totally was!

As soon as we arrived at the swamp, we spotted hundreds of flamingos against the backdrop of the mangrove trees. I was quite mesmerized by the plethora of pink that greeted me.Watching the flamingos walking in line one behind the other, seeing them drinking the marshy water, and hearing their squawks was an exhilarating experience. They did not seem to be bothered by the human presence as they continued to engage in all the activities they were doing. Even though the sun was out, a pleasant breeze was blowing which made it easy for me to tolerate the heat. I clicked a number of pictures - I just could not get enough of this Pinkville!

The Indian Stork

An Egret

I had read that apart from flamingos, one also gets to see other species of birds at the Sewri creek. While looking out for the other species of birds was not on my personal agenda, an ornithologist, who happened to be present at the creek while we were watching the flocks of flamingos, helped us locate some of these other birds. I spotted an Indian Stork, some egrets, herons and even some kites. From a distance, the Indian Stork looked like the flamingos - it was only when we went closer and noticed it was white and not pink that we realized the difference.

I wanted to watch the flamingos taking flight before I left. My prayers were, miraculously, answered as we just started to leave. However, it happened very suddenly and I did not get a chance to get a good shot of these birds. The picture below is the only image that I managed to capture of them flying towards the horizon. I waited for some more time to get a better picture. However, the birds just remained at the creek after that, and seemed to be in no mood to take off - despite me screaming at them, "Fly, you funny, stupid birds! Fly!"

I wish to return to Sewri again, next year, and spot more birds, and, hopefully, take some better pictures. Next year, I hope to reach the place even earlier. Getting to the Sewri creek is not easy - my friend and I discovered that the road leading up to the creek from Sewri station is quite deserted, and filled with shady-looking men. We concluded that it's best to go there in the earlier hours of morning when there are more people who are assembled there to watch the birds. The later one goes, the fewer are the bird-enthusiasts, and the more difficult it is to return. We were lucky enough to get a lift back to the station from a couple. They were visiting the creek for the third time - on the last two occasions, they had not managed to spot the flamingos despite waiting patiently for over four hours. They felt extremely fortunate for having, finally, caught a glimpse of these birds. I guess good things always come to those who wait. It was one of those rare, pleasant mornings for me...The flamingos will stay in Mumbai until next week after which they will fly back to their original breeding grounds in the Rann of Kutch. So, if you do not want to wait until the month of November to spot these birds, it is best that you head to Sewri this week and allow the pats of flamingos to delight your senses. 

Hide-And-Seek

Weddings are a particularly noisy affair. This one was no different. A large number of guests had congregated at the courtyard that overlooked the huge, well-lit, mansion. They congratulated the bride and groom, admired the decorations, criticized the food arrangements – everything was just the way typical weddings are!

The children were also decked up in the fanciest of attires. However, instead of joining the adults on the dance-floor, they were more interested in playing amongst themselves. The entire house was empty and it became the venue for the game that they were about to play – hide-and-seek. The seeker closed his eyes and began the count from 1 to 100 while the rest of the children ran helter-skelter trying to hide in a place where they would not be easily found.

She ran up the stairs until she reached the third floor that led to a room which opened up to the terrace. She was quite smart for a nine year old – she figured that by the time the seeker reached the last floor of the house, he would have already found her other friends and cousins, and she would be the winner. When she reached the room, it wasn’t empty. Her neighbour’s uncle was sitting there, with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

“What are you doing here, uncle?” she asked.

He explained that he was expecting an important call and, therefore, was in the house so that he would not miss hearing the phone ring. She heard the gleeful screams of a few children on the ground floor. “Quick! I don’t have much time,” she squealed. “I need to hide!” He told her to sit down quietly and make no noise. He, then, turned off the lights and carefully made his way back to the sofa. She had not caught his evil gleam in the darkness nor had she heard him silently bolt the door from inside. It was dark and she could not see a thing. “Don’t be scared,” he whispered. “I am here.” She merely nodded her head and sat still. Suddenly, she felt his hand on her mouth and in a soothing, hushed voice, he said, “Don’t worry. You will enjoy this game – it is called dark room.” Something about his syrupy-sweet voice spooked her but she just sighed in compliance – she loved playing games; after all she was just another child. The other children searched for her in the house but finding the door of the third floor locked, they went down to look for her in other spaces. Her choked voice gave no hint of her presence. As his fingers brushed through her entire body from under her clothes, she experienced shivers. She did not like what was happening but she did not cry for help. She could not. The brutal monster abused her body despite her silent, fervent, prayers begging him to stop.

Even when he, ultimately, stopped, she, still, did not feel the same. Her body continued to ache while her mind was terrorized with fear. He made her swear that she would not tell anyone – this game was their little secret. She nodded in agreement, blinking her eyelids rapidly to stop the tears that were about to trickle down her face. She had not enjoyed this one bit – she had no intention of playing this game with any of her friends.

She trudged down the staircase only to be hounded by some of the children, who, still had been looking for her. “Where were you hiding?” they asked. “You are the winner of this round!” She did not know how to answer them. On seeing her silent and subdued, they merely shrugged their shoulders, “Fine! Don’t tell us if you don’t want to!”

The new seeker began her count. Once again, the children started looking for places to hide themselves. She hid with the other children. This time, she did not want to become the winner of the game. One always has to pay a heavy price for winning – on that fateful day, that was the lesson that she learnt. 

Free Association

The alarm rings and I reach to hit the ‘Snooze’ button with a big groan. The extra five minutes of sleep are not really enough to arm me to wake up and face the world. Nevertheless, I put my feet on the ground and get out of bed. This is probably the only time of the day when you can proclaim, with assured guarantee, that I will not be having a smile on my face.

I brush my teeth and switch on the geyser. In the mornings, I feel too lazy to bathe and I try dawdling as much as I can. I grab the newspaper and amuse myself by reading just one particular column and some comic strips – yes, that is all I read! Don’t let the quantity of two newspapers delivered at my door-step every morning, with all the supplements, deceive you!

I switch on my laptop and visit Facebook. I like this book of faces. I like playing games with some of these faces. I like spying on some of these faces. I like the Facebook memes. I like the Facebook Likes! I am glad that Facebook allows me to “share”. Believe me, I am a very generous person!

I realize I can procrastinate no more. I push myself to get ready. Fifteen minutes is all it takes. I leave the house looking the best I can with my clothes, accessories, and the theme of my Windows Phone, all, colour-coordinated and matching. If you find it hard to believe that all this can be achieved in such a short while, I’m afraid that is your problem!

 It’s just a two-minute walk from my house to the station but it takes me longer. I like to look at the people I pass. My thoughts seem to wander instead of focusing on the road. Even though I take the same road, I always find new things to wonder about. The railway platform is just as fascinating and even more colourful. Most people hate the train journeys in Mumbai. I do not mind. I like travelling. It helps me know the world. It helps me know myself. More importantly, it allows me to Tweet, check-in, update my status, and, basically, tell the world what I am doing now!

On some occasions, a sudden text from an unexpected loved one lifts up my spirits. Not that my spirit needs any kind of lifting…On most days, I am way too high on happiness for my own good! But then, what is life without love? It’s like watching The Big Bang Theory without Sheldon (or Dr. Sheldon Cooper, as he likes to be called)…And The Big Bang Theory without Sheldon is like…well, nothing! Ironically, the Big Bang Theory states that out of nothing, everything was formed…but then, let us not distract ourselves with these sudden diversions of thoughts…

What? You are finding it hard to see where I am going with this post? How does it matter? Is it always necessary to know one’s destination when one ventures out on a journey? Sometimes, it’ll be nice if we just allow ourselves to flow. Allow your thoughts to flow. Why does one always insist on connections? Are you and I connected? Despite technology’s repeated attempts at making us believe otherwise, tell me, honestly, are you truly connected with anyone?

If you were here for the first time, by now, you will know that I talk a lot. If you’ve been here before, you could say that I’ve, probably, started talking even more. “These are all your perceptions! I don’t really care about the world!” is what I usually declare except that it isn’t always true. Inside, I am still screaming, tattered and crushed about the fact that I was judged, and perhaps, wrongly. But it’s a cruel world and I am a brave girl. The smile on my face defeats all your attacks. This smile on my face will never fade; and trust me when I tell you that; I am not someone who will be caught unaware. I completely believe in taking things at face-value even if that attitude goes against my profession. Looks can be deceiving but I really enjoy the game – you deceive me and I will deceive you. In the end, we are all just deceiving our own selves. There is no ‘you’ just like there is no ‘I’.

As you can see by now, this rant can go on endlessly. However, I shall have mercy on your soul and put an end to this jibber-jabber now. Feel free to “like” or make your presence felt in any other way; you also have the choice to meander to other spaces in the virtual world, pretending as if you were never here. Life is still beautiful.  

The Break-Up

It was way past midnight when she finally reached home. The effects of the whiskey were wearing off. She was no longer high on happiness. In fact, her head spun and she was feeling dizzy. She wished she had refrained from displaying her dancing skills at the club. Her legs ached. She got out of her heels and sat on her bed. She switched on her laptop and signed into her Facebook account.

He was still on her list of "Close Friends". They had broken up a week ago and even though she had changed her "Relationship Status" from "In a Relationship" to "Single", she still had not been able to remove him from her list of “Friends”.

She glanced at the list of notifications. He had changed his profile picture. He was with a girl – from the backdrop, she could make out that they were, both, in the living room of his house.  "Who is this chick?" she wondered. She looked at his Wall Posts. His status read, “Best Weekend Ever!!” She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as she saw his latest “check ins”. He had visited a pub with her on Saturday evening, and on Sunday, they had gone for a movie together, after brunch at a restaurant which used to be her favourite.

She could not stop the tears from rolling down her eyes. She wanted to scream but no voice came out of her throat. She wanted to send him a message but he had changed his number. She did not have his new contact details. She was frustrated and she cried herself to sleep.

The next morning, she could not focus on work. She wondered how it had been so easy for him to move on. Even though she knew she was making a mistake, she could not abstain from logging into her Facebook account once again. There was another notification! He had changed his “Relationship Status” once again to being “In a Relationship”. He had uploaded new photos as well, of the weekend he had spent, with the new girl in his life.

As she stared at the screen, she, suddenly, burst out laughing. Surprisingly, instead of remembering the times she had spent with him in the last two years, it was a casual conversation with her mother that was playing in her mind. “Your generation is a strange one,” her mother had stated. “All of you are moving towards a culture of exhibitionism. It baffles me how you enjoy giving minute-by-minute updates of your life to the whole world. In our days, we had one camera and we developed the photos once in a year…But you upload pictures every single day – of lunch, of some kitten on the road, of your cubicle in the office – keep me away from all this. I do not need Facebook to let my close friends know what is happening in my life.”

Not being able to concentrate on any task, she decided to take the rest of the day off. After a long walk by herself on the beach, she dragged her legs home. Once again, she logged on to her account. This time, there were no notifications. She typed his name on the search bar but his profile did not open. He was no more appearing on her list of “Friends”. He had blocked her! She was even more amazed when she realized that this information did not devastate her. Although she was a little mad, at the same time, she also felt relieved. He had, with the click of a mouse, erased all possibilities of the two of them having any access to each other’s lives.

It was now her turn to shoot ahead. She managed to force a smile on her face as she clicked a picture of herself and uploaded it on Facebook with the caption “All Smiles J J”. She felt pleased as her picture received some instant “likes”. She had succeeded in showing to the world that she, too, was moving on… 

The Liebster!

I would like to thank Reshma for presenting me with the "Liebster Award". It always feels good to know that your writing is appreciated and receiving this award just made my day! Such appreciation always encourages me to continue writing and  I hope that I get better with each and every piece so that my readers always enjoy themselves while reading my posts.

Not everyone knows about the Liebster Award. Even I didn't until I received it! Well, 'Liebster' is actually a German word and, simply put, it means loving and endearing. The Liebster Award is an award of appreciation.

The rules of this award are simple and stated below:

1. Each person must post 11 things about themselves.
2. The person must answer the 11 questions set by the nominator; and create 11 new questions for the people he or she has nominated. 
3. The person must choose bloggers who deserve this award and link them in the post (These bloggers should have less than 300 followers).
4. These nominees must be informed of their nomination.
5. No tag-backs are permitted. 

So, here I begin with posting 11 things about myself...

1. I always tend to believe in the best of people. I believe that people are, basically, very good and I often make the mistake of taking people at face-value. There are times when I have had to pay a price for trusting people so easily but I'd rather be the person who trusts and gets hurt than be someone who is suspicious at all times. 
2. Sometimes, I wish I could be in two places simultaneously. It would be wonderful if I could be in my home-town, Kolkata, with my family as well as in Mumbai with all my friends, both, at the same time. 
3. I am a clinical hypnotherapist and I feel very uncomfortable when I see the weird reactions people give when I tell them about my profession. It used to be fun freaking people out while I was still studying but lately I am finding it to be quite irksome. 
4. I am not a hard worker but I work smart and can complete most tasks assigned to me at rapid speed. 
5. Despite being a food-lover, I am quite fussy about the food that I eat. 
6. I am an agony aunt! I always end up in situations where I am helping people sort out their issues. 
7. I love dogs and I wish I could have one as a pet. 
8. While I can drink tea or coffee, I still prefer drinking milk and Bournvita every morning. 
9. I have always believed in living in the moment. What lies ahead has never been a concern for me. However, these days I find myself becoming worrisome about the future and I feel that I need to change that. 
10. If I had my way, I think I would be a student for life. I love learning things and I feel, like Tennyson's Ulysses, the true purpose of my life is "to follow knowledge like a sinking star, beyond the utmost bound of human thought". 
11. I always smile at people even if I do not know them. Even if you meet me for a brief one minute, you are sure to notice my smile! 

Now, I need to answer the questions that were set for me. Here goes:

1. Given a choice between a world without feelings and a world without words, which one would you choose and why?
   I would choose to live in a world without words than live in a world without feelings. Empty words are meaningless and the language of words is just a symbol. Feelings are what truly matter. 
2. What is the one thing about you that you think irritates others the most?
   Sometimes, I just cut off from people without giving them prior notice. When I feel like I don't want to talk to anybody, I actually do not respond to messages, e-mails or calls. My friends get irritated when I do not return their calls even though they have called me more than ten times in two days or sometimes even more; and no, I am not exaggerating! What irritates them further is that I bounce back into action without giving them any explanations behind the cause of my disappearance. 
3. Describe what writing means to you in 3 words.
   Writing is expression. 
4. If you were to be marooned on an island and could wish for only one thing (except return to the mainland) what would that be and why?
   I would wish for my entire life to be transported to the island! If I can't go back to my life on the mainland, at least my life can come back to me. Besides it does not really matter where you are, if you have your life, consisting of friends, family, and the things that you love, all around you. 
5. If you could choose to be born as a celebrity, who would you be?
   I would love to be born as Calvin (from Calvin and Hobbes by Bill Watterson). 
6. The one blogger you wished you could write like would be ____________. 
   I have left the space blank because even though I love the different styles of writing of all the different bloggers, I somehow feel that I should stick to mine! 
7. If you could possess a super-power, what would it be?
   If I could have a super-power, I wish that I could read and manipulate people's thoughts (like Matt Parkman of Heroes)
8. Who or what influenced you the most to write?
   In my family, no one was fond of reading books other than me. However, everyone liked hearing a good story. Re-telling stories from the books that I used to read inspired or influenced me to write some stories of my own. 
9. Science or God?
   God because it all starts from there. God is the source - you are introduced to the concept of God right from the time you are born. After that introduction, you will automatically start searching for more answers and stumble upon other paths such as Science. 
10. What is/are your favourite book(s) and why? (Limit: 3)
    My favourite book is To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee. I recommend this book strongly to all those who haven't yet had the chance of reading it. It is a wonderful piece of literature.
    Sophie's World by Jostein Gaarder  is also on my list of favourites. It is a book on Western philosophy and I love the style with which it has been written. People who are not familiar with philosophy at all will benefit from reading this book. 
11. If you could change one thing in this world, what would it be?
    These days, I find that people in this world are rather apathetic. I would like to change that. 

Now it is my turn to ask questions. Here is the list:

1. If you had to describe yourself with the help of a song, which song would that be?
2. What is that one thing you would do differently if you felt that no one was judging you?
3. If you had the choice of starring in a movie, which movie would you choose and what character would you play?
4. What is the one cause that you feel most passionate about?
5. What is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you?
6. Who was your favourite cartoon character when you were a child?
7. If you could bring a tourist to only one place in your city, where would you take him or her and why?
8.  What does your name mean? To what extent is that meaning applicable in your context?
9. Where do you see yourself five years from now?
10. What is the best gift you have received?
11. If you knew that today was your last day on this earth, how would you like to spend it and why?

I would like to nominate:

1. Green Speck
2. Sanika
3. Me
4. Ashok
5. Chatty Wren

Looking forward to reading your responses!

Flutter (Flash Fiction)

She groaned as she stared at the heavy stack of paper-work that remained at her desk. It was still mid-afternoon and there were some more hours to kill before she could go home but she was very irritated. It was Valentine’s Day and none of her colleagues seemed to be in the mood for work. Most of them were taking off early and they were chirping to each other about their evening plans. 

She was single. She had been this way for as long as she could remember. She was yet to experience the chemical reaction called love.  

One by one, as her colleagues started to leave, her boss glanced at her. She was filing some documents.

“Don’t you want to go home?” he asked.
“I will but once I am done. Initially, I was dying to be indoors but when I thought of the soppy love-sick atmosphere that would greet me on my way back, I realized that I’d rather stay here,” she mused.
“Ah! A cynic, are we?” he grinned and left her to get on with her job.

She left her office and stood at the bus-stop. She put on her ear-phones and just when she was looking at her iPod menu to select a playlist, a voice greeted her from behind, “Hey! Your bus left just two minutes ago. You’ll probably have to wait for quite some time till another one stops by.”

She turned to look at him. She did not know who he was but she recognized him. He used to wait at the same bus-stop as her and she had often seen him in the evenings. However, she was surprised that he seemed to know the details of the bus she had to board.

“Don’t worry. I am not a stalker,” he laughed, as if he had read her thoughts.

She gave him a sheepish smile and pretended to be engrossed in listening to music. She was in no mood to strike a conversation with this stranger. As she closed her eyes, humming the lyrics of the song in her mind, he tapped her on the shoulder.

“Hey! Your bus is here,” he pointed. “You don’t want to miss it this time.”

She opened her eyes and looked up. Yes, there it was! She hopped on to the bus and got inside. The bus was unusually empty. She occupied the window-seat and stared at him. He caught her looking at him and smiled. 

“Thank you,” she mouthed, as the bus started to leave. He waved back at her. She kept staring at the bus-stop till it disappeared from sight. She suddenly felt good.

The old song faded into the background and now her ears were filled with the Beatles crooning, “All you need is love; all you need is love; all you need is love, love; love is all you need.” There was a smile on her face as her heart skipped a beat. Yes, love was in the air.