-Ear-to-Year-

I did something unbelievable today. I walked in the rain. Not run, not pace, but walked. Slowly, calmy, trying to feel each drop on my face, and sense as the water dripped down into the cups of my hands. Watching myself as I endured the steady stream falling from the edge of my hair, wetting my toes and fingers and chilling the tip of my nose. Figuring out what the hype is all about.

Those who know me well will understand why this is such a miracle (and chuckle at the idea).

With every droplet, I also felt the past year go by me. The year which has been exciting, educating, emotional, erratic, unpredictable, funny, strange all at the same time. Where milestones were made, and moments were created. Where disappointments were large, but patience was the biggest virtue. Where the motivation to carry on came with much effort, yet many imperative decisions were made, and made well. Where family remained as important as they always have been. Where old friends remained old friends, new friends became old friends and the circle grew bigger, better, familiar and together.

Many a concerts watched, many a movie thrilling. Many a quarrels fought, many a smiles earned. The year has been like any other with new flavours. With an end to hanging threads and a start in fresh directions, this year has been one to look back at with fondness and fascination. A year which has taught me a little bit more about myself. Little but significant bits. A year where I grew up, yet again.

As my reflections got blur just as the puddles of water on the road, I quickened my pace. Thinking faster as I went and a bus stop away from home , I gave in. I ran. After all there is only this much you can learn in a year,and there are some things about me which can never change....

Happy new year everyone! Have a safe one!

What's your poison?

Take your pick.

Moments or memories
Short meetings or Longer strolls
Planned ideas or spontaneous urges
Impactful thoughts or Deep understandings
Sand on the feet or Crashing waves
Climbing the hedge or bringing it down
Tree houses or Glass Bungalows
Sleep or weep
Indulge or Pretend
Caresses or Control
Careful or Crazy
Blink or a wink
Hugs or Kisses
Oops or Yikes

Me or ...me;)

Everyone has their personal favourties. Everyone has a chance to make choices. People tell me that no one should be told what to do, yet everyone likes to be a part of a decision someone makes. Specially if it was a decision made well. A decision that made a memory.

I am best friends with anything and everything that can be held on to. I am best friends with my thoughts. Thoughts that time and again have helped me decide which way I want to tread when standing at a fork road. Paths that are different from others yet carry me forward. Paths that have made me what I am. Paths that I have regretted. And paths that were walked hard, lived low, but blossomed strong.

I take a stand on all of the above. Because each of them stirs a different part of me. Each makes me feel a new feeling. Each holds out it's hand so that I can hold it for the first time. Each speaks to me, teaches me and then leaves something behind for me to cherish.

As a friend justly told me today..

"It's amazing how we hang on to short-lived moments for such a long time"

..and I do believe we do..I do..

"Fringed"

Fringed
A seconds conversation
A minutes wait,
An hour to go
And I'm getting late.

Climbing friskly
To the steps of recognition,
In an attempt to excel
I forget the mission.

A seconds adoraton
A minutes meet,
An hour prized
And a life to beat.

Pressure is rising
Time's on the shelf,
To gain that someone
I lose myself.

A seconds peek
A minutes look,
An hour for choosing
The relevant book.

Turning the pages
The words fail me,
To decipher the meaning
The lessons I do not see.

A second to think
A minutes write,
An hour to identify
The black from the white.

Pages and pages in ink
Lines of musical prose,
At the right moment
I simple froze.

A second to run
A minutes sprint,
An hour to catch up
And do all that I didn't.

Cleverly tackling the bends
Clearing my way,
Life seems unpredictable
But I walk along anyway.

..Visions of mockery..

I sat across a river bank wondering what it would take me to get to the other side. Could it be only motivation to try something new, or would it have to be a specific incentive that would pick my spirits up, and tug me across the crystal clear glistening waters.

I saw the water flowing upstream, others said it flew downstream. I thought of crossing over to the 'other side' but many believed that the side to be the main river bank, the side that was a constructive life, the side of companionship and joyous celebrations. For me it was noise. The leaves on this side fell the same as that side. Each bank competed with the other and had its stories, its tremors, its triumphs and of course, it's own little soul stuck-on-the-indecisive-side-of-life.

I saw laughter, the kind that ridicules a loser. I saw freedom, the kind that binds you without warning. But I also saw a fresh beginning. Difficult, yet promising. I sensed reason and emotions, warm as the stream on a crisp summer afternoon. I saw dreams and memories collecting amidst the jovial nightlife of the fireflies. I felt the noise fade away and turned mildly rhythmic. It could be hope, and an inclination towards the unknown, but I was not fully convinced.

I sat blinking. Thinking. Not moving. The water kept flowing. My moods changed faster than my perspective. The time swept smoother than my standing. The decision came quicker than my attempt at it.

And then I got up, waded through the river in neck deep water, water chilled..water blue..water so fresh and wet..

..and standing drenched on the other end, frozen to the bones, I looked around in surprise. I shivered. I grinned. I liked what I saw. I had found my daisies.

Now the challenge would be to convince myself to return someday...if ever..

"Miss twiddle thumbs"

Unfortunate Lives
Troubled Times,
Perils at neck
Oh! What the heck..

Sleepless nights
Petty fights,
A decision day
Look the other way!

Rainy mornings
Guests without warning,
An empty fridge
I shall still not snitch..

Fake friends
Distasteful trends,
A super-low-fat-soy-sugarfree-all-natural shake
Give me a break!

Sophisicated talk
A moonlit walk,
Talks so boring
I could be snoring..

Smiles and winks
Gifts that stink
A wait so long
Ok, this is where I move on..

Illogical books
Deceptive looks,
I'm not all spice and mint
C'mon, take a hint!

Forgetful minds
Meaningless finds
A personality so dry
It could make me cry!

Expressions rare
Explanations bare,
Think you've won?
Ah! I haven't even begun..

My Juke Box minute

Been forever since that I heard that song.

Time has overwhelmed me. It has gone by so fast that I barely managed to blink. Pints of beer have diminished like the courage inside and exhaustion has taken over as fast as time itself. Places moved, people have changed, friends have become work and work is my only friend.

I travelled to discover new things, only to find I can't let go of memories old.

I worked to create new experiences, only to find every incident can't be exciting.

I made new friends, only to realise they're old ones in new-people suits.

I changed myself, only to realise I can't.

The wind gushes, flashes of light, people, faces, people, faces, the past, the future, present at its best, present at its worst, ego's, attitudes, opportuntities, laughter, thoughts, silence..

It eventually happened.

It's all moist. Head down, eyes sore, I stand in deafening solitude...

And as I stand, with every grain of sand in the hourglass a tune fades away. And with every diminishing rythm a moment is overwritten. And every hanging moment loses itself within me..

And I remember the meaning of the music again.

..A Canines' Purr..

Amidst a busy hectic schedule, work, worry, more work, even more worry and a absurd discussion with a friend which stemmed into a topic not considered conversational by most, I realised whatI wanted to be in life if I had a choice.

I want to be a dog..

Hang on, I'm no dog lover [ not the scream-my-head-off-or-tear-like-a-tree when I see a dog type at least], so I don't want to be a regular dog.

Here is my theory.Short, but hopefully sweet.

There are many types of dogs[what a great beginning to a philosophy]. Out of those, the ones I like most are the ones which are big but dumb, small but dopy, fluffy but doleful and tiny but expressionless. Not energetic, not doing what dogs are 'meant to do' and not only a man's best friend but a womans as well. Not petted too often, not cried at but cried with, not played with but who play along and with eyes which say absolutely nothing. Silent. Boring even. Sullen. Submissive. But still standing tall, as tall as a dog shall stand.

So, if I shall ever live to re-live, make me a dog. But no normal animal treading the earth, only an abnormal one. Abnormal in looks, abnormal in style and abnormal in the way I love people.

Abnormal, just to lead the most normal life ever.

**This is specially for a dear dear friend- thumbs up to a complete 2 years of dodgy doggy and a
dog-gone good life darling!**

'Alter' ego

Gave it up
And looking back,
You cried, you never meant to hurt
But you did draw a blank..

At a point where much had to be said
The words weren't quite right,
It didn't help to say,
'It'll all be fine, It'll be all right'

While you thought
There was honey falling from your tongue,
Little did you know
What you had done..

Writing a poetry later
In words so black,
Or sending some hand-picked flowers
To win it all back..

Easy words, emotions unreal
Can't make up for you,
Feelings crept up by your side
When you least expected them to..

Old habits die hard
Old feelings fade away,
Sleeping on the couch for months
You suddenly had much to say..

Move on, lead your life
At least leave something true
Don't try to change the memories
Anyway, now what can you do?

"Falling short"

I thought to myself over breakfast..

Do I really practice what I preach?

Its easy to give advice in matters of the heart. Its easier to criticize and judge when others are letting themselves be ruled by emotions, rather than rationale. Head over the heart is a concept which looks simple in words and books. In reality, it's more complicated than love itself.

Relationships aren't made in heaven. What makes them heavenly is over-rating and over-emphasizing them. Neither is there any such thing as an ideal partner. It's like pottery really. You take someone raw, understand them, shape them, mould them, every time they break you get better at handling them and in time, out comes a beautiful and perfect piece of art, a.k.a your better half. You make one your perfect someone.

I stopped over this thought, and looked back at all the aunt-agony-cum-shooting-cupid-arrow acts I had done over the past few years. Some good, some bad and some turned ugly. I may be no expert, but I have done some over-the-top horoscope inspired judgments. All sensible. all mature, all with happy endings. On the flip side, I may have given the strong shoulder lesson to many, yet bawled my eyes out when the situation hit me. It's a conviction strong, but words weak. Circumstances same with meandering morals . I confess, it's harder to tread those trails than trace them.

...In all honesty, I would like to follow my lead, but my lessons aren't easily digested....

I admit, if I were not me, I might do it differently.

"Fish 'n' chips in Curry"

London
Originally uploaded by Shuchi Mittal.

A borrowed picture, I confess, but it speaks the language. The very british language. It speaks London. It spells London. It shouts London..

Working in every city feels the same. What feels different is the air, the people, the talk of friends, the smell of lemons and lilies, the clink of beer glasses, the ideas....

Ideas that developed while meeting people. Ideas that developed while sitting in a new apartment listening to the noise that once was new but now sounds indifferent. Ideas that developed while trying to decipher which strings of thoughts I want to pull. Ideas that took out time to understand me and gave me a wholesome outlook on others. Ideas that separated the good friends from friends, and friends from acquaintances. Ideas that knocked on my door while I was out having fun.

From the sultry sweltering 4 weeks of real summer to the rainy chill-to-the-bone breezy 2 weeks of 'London summer', each day smelt unique. Every morning was something new to expect. Every evening the goodbyes sounded different. Every day there were regular people, with familiar drinks but unfamiliar feelings. Every one had a piece of their mind they wanted to share. Everything finally became personal.

And with the last swirl of the London eye, the last walk down South bank, the last chime of the Big Ben and a rather red ride through the forever anxious roads , the city of pub lunches and mood swinging weather finally gets rid of this Indian gal..

Six weeks....
And an old city with new experiences.
Old friends with vibrant outlooks.
An old mind with clearer perspectives.
Old anxieties with newer meanings.
Old wants with fresh found needs.
Old questions with humbled answers.
Old ambitions with new diversions.
Old anger with new views of acceptance.
Old freedom with re-lived independence.
And ....the same old me..
...undiscovered and unresolved..yet, hopefully supporting a better head of hair from now on...

'Boomerang'

The rebel
The legend,
I make the rules
So that in my direction they bend..

The whiner
The unseen,
Believe not the cover
I am the girl who kicks the coke machine..

The mystery
The story free,
Understand that when I push you away
I really want you near me..

The cliched
The charmed,
Swaying in every direction of affection
Yet, I am fully armed..

The speaker
The mood monster,
Stepping up for challenges
But I rather things be as they were..

The socialist
The energy silly,
I may not like food
But I can bite your ears off easily..

The choco-holic
The flirt,
To get to the bottom
You need to dig up a lot of dirt..

The favoured
The faces many
I tell mythical tales to others
Don't try telling me any..

The perfectionist
The tear-tree
I want to get a message across
But you won't get me..

"Lemon buzz"

A subtle note
Came my way
Across time and places,
Across smiles and faces..

Said hello
In the form of a song
Added a bounce to my gait,
Added worth to the wait..

I read every line
Read it again
Grinned at the thought,
Grinned at everything it brought..

It smelled of black-currants
And blooming lilacs
Had a familiar feel,
Had a friendship seal..

Pretensions none
Cheers immense
Caught me by surprise,
Caught me before the mornings' very eyes..

A last look at it
Recovery followed
I walked with rhythm today,
I walked my way..

Folded and secure
Framed in my mind
I wish there were messages more,
I wish it were someone's daily chore..

"That warm sunday morning"

This was the day it all began. Apprehensions, confusion, nervousness, anxiety and all with a bit of sifted happiness. Happiness which turned to excitement, excitement which turned to chaos, chaos which turned to stress, stress which remained. The upcoming days were turmoil. Mentally and physically. I rooted myself in my decisions and beliefs but the more I thought, the more I had to re-consider my options.In other words, whatever little peace I had, was destroyed with every small function of the brain.

Then came the calm. The period of smooth and consistent silence where the noises are blocked out by the overwhelming response of the overworked head.The sounds of a tired body with an immense hope of being rejuvinated soon.A hope that sees no light at the end of the tunnel.A hope that truly floats, and refuses to settle down.

But it happened. I walked through the dust and grime of the commotion and found my glitter corner. My breathing sanctuary. My humble abode. It was not the ultimate refresher, but it was a settlement with self. It was acceptance. It was time to stop thinking.

Now I fly...

..but only to be back to the confusion one day..

-Mom-a-holic-

Much as I would like to be there
To bake a cake or trouble you more,
Resources are low, and duties many
So don't be grumpy and sore..

Sit back, relax and indulge
In attention, if not a meal I made
Have one of those perfect days
And in kind, be paid..

What is a gift, when words can say
How precious you are to me
Will also save me some pocket money
To spend on you, when each other we see..

I still miss you as much as always
And on this 14th day of May,
I am here, with ALL my love
To wish you a very Happy Mother's Day!!

And as a double treat today
To make you cheerful and glad,
Is this poem, and a certificate
Granting you a whole day away from dad;)

To one of the most patient human beings I have come across and to somone who has always let me throw my tantrums, let me grow, been my friend and also kept my secrets *grin*...don't look around mother, am talking about you!

Happy Mothers' Day Mommmyyyy...:)[and also to the rest of the moms in the world]

"Amen"

I don't believe in best friends.

I have regular friends, good friends, very good friends, close friends, even closer friends and some rather special friends.Each one is aware of a different side of me. There are only 2 common things with all of them:

One, I am surper duper zuper comfortable with them. No pretentions, no watch-what-you-say, no taking-3-hours-to-pull-out-the-perfect-thing-to- wear [ok maybe this still applies], no fashionably-late, no low-fat-super-skimmed-sugarfree, no hold-back-that-gossip and absolutely no I-hate-discussing-this-but-I-must-act-i'm-interested..blah. In other words I am present mind, body and soul as a whole, with all my imperfections in place, and am genuinely satisfied being that way around them.

Two, they all say I talk a lot..

For me, a conversation with a friend is a stress buster. It's mostly figurative, but there are times when real punches could be involved, depending on how moody I'm feeling.

Therefore, if I am sitting with you and I am trying to impress you, you aren't a friend.[surprise!]

If you are sitting with me and trying to impress me..ah well there is no exception to the rule there..it's working..

[Did I just lose myself some friends??]

"A Coversation within"

I spoke to my Angel today
The Angel who had no wings,
She had no words of wisdom
Nor did She sing...

Her skin was tanned as mine
No signs of a halo pure,
Simply dressed, not adorned in jewels
But she had a way to painlessly cure..

I sat by my Angel
Who sat down just like me,
I asked about my future
And all she said was 'It's free'..

She said with surprise in her eyes
Eyes that resembled mine,
You know what you need to know
The rest? In due time..

What was the point, I thought
To seek this divine being,
When all She could tell me
Were visions I was already seeing..?

I needed answers to my problems
Confusions the clouded my mind,
But at this moment a listening ear
Is all I that could find!?!?

I gave out a loud cry
And flushed and fretted a bit,
She reacted as though I didn't exist
With something of grin on her lip..

Well, She did listen better than I
And rarely gave any advice,
And She laughed at my jokes
And, her laughter sounded like mine!

With no unearthly powers
Nor a pass to the gates above,
She did not preach perfection
Nor overrate love..

'Don't be absolute', She said
Ah! an advise at last I see
Then she turned around and vanished
No explanation given, almost immediately..

She did not teach me anything
But gave me a peek at sin,
In me, myself, my vanity
Coz she was the better twin..

With no new lessons learnt
I wondered where the time had flown,
She did get her message across
'Not to worry about the unknown'..

If only in pain we didn't cry
If only we sought attention none ,
If only being rational
Was something natural, and fun..

I walked away in silence
And pondered over it for a while ,
I was walking just like Her
And I ended the day with Her smile..

"Strangeness at its best"

Usually Voodoo brings to mind acts of witchcraft and wisecrack spells, but to me it instigates a feeling of escape.

Escape from a life that is around you, to another where you create all that you see, feel, emote and do. Its a world where brooms are used for purposes other than sweeping, spiders have great 'healing powers', evil gets utmost respect and you would drink anything which is fuming, yet not hot.

A fantasy for the wretched. A world for the deprived. An answer to revenge. In all, escape from the truth. Escape from worldly worries and pain. Escape from trust.

A world where everything is wrong
Is the one that seems to make things right,
Sticking pins into an dummy
Speaking to crystal balls bright.
A cave, an ambience raw
Where cynical feelings come free,
You can curse everyone
And not carry a guilt on thee.
Get away from the confusion
Blame it all on on fate,
To feel better about yourself
All you need to do is hate.
Chants unintelligible
There is no correct chord,
Where a coward kills with a kiss
Whilst a lover uses a sword.

It's a place I go when I need to breathe amongst all the commotion around.

I could be a evil. But I live right.

"Wed-knock"

A friend reminded me today
Of what life has in store for me,
One quarter has passed
Another lying out there, free..

Why IT should happen
When is it right,
Questions haunt me like confusions
But the answers are out of sight!

All the couples
Snug in each others arms,
Only make me fearful
Of the dangerous calm ..

It must come, yes it must
The word is everywhere,
Seems like everyone around the corner
Are messengers for mum, I swear! [forgive me mother!]

Conversations many, conclusions none
I reckon I don't have a clue,
The person seated next to me in the plane
Seems to know why I must too..

Someone explain them
Get it drilled in my head too
You're not a wedding planner, nor my mum
So find something more useful to do..

There isn't a way out
The knock gets harder, loud
Running towards each corner
I keep going round..and round..

I'm glad you are convinced
But it's not my time yet
I'll marry the first thing I'm attracted to
That is my bestest bet!

Ah well, to those who are happy
To the best things in their lives,
I raise a toast to my married [or to-be married] darlings
And their poor wives..;)

[Special mention to my mum, my granny, other random relatives, Mrs kaul from the plane and the cabbie who got me home tonight, without whom this piece would have been impossible to create!]

"Getting waisted"

From putting on a few pounds to running after the over hyped brand-o-wagon, girls can never stop to bitch about the fashion issues that run [and ruin] our lives, grate us, rate us and in the end leave us with a disdain that is less than passable..

Some can hop around in their togs and only big names speak for them. Fashion conscious, fashion cred but clueless of style. Blind following, an aversion from anything non designer, drowning huge sums of money for a pair of plastic [ but labelled] earings and owning enough tags to decorate en entire christmas tree. Now that is called being devoid of taste.

Aesthetic sense was buried long ago with the big hair days and when tight jeans were the next best thing after sliced bread. No innovation, no more genuine inspirations to express what truly outlined YOU! Fashion is almost not caring about fashion you know? It's about having mad fun defining what you are made up of, and not what you see walking on the street with big flashlights saying "I am in-follow me"..From belts to bags, tassels to scarves, stoles to jackets..all in a world of fab finds..the louder the better, the price talks volumes and the money-savvy call it fashion.

Like the drinks pour on a friday night, so do emotions over clothing. Fashion hang-ups are the new reason for worse PMS symptoms. She has it, I don't. I have it, she better not! Same dress?-bitch! Petite is in, love handles are out. Bones are brains and personalities are entangled somewhere in the threads of the paschmina's. When money can buy it, its cheap. When it can't, its flashy [read designer]..

It all boils down to - If you have attitude, you don't have much clothing. If you have much clothing, it can't be designer...

Poor designer-snoot. She may have the nicest shoes ever but she will never have what you need to wear most-reality!

"Chroma-somes"

What better way
To express myself today,
Than with a talk of colours
Flavouring the day..

Simple red green blue
Or azures and brocade,
Clothes and vibrance
Lure my mind to the bait..

A dash of iridescence here
A shade darker there,
No excuses, no disguise
Everyone is painted, all is fair..

Friends and family
Revenge at last,
Last years chapter re-opened
Head to toe in hue, running fast..

Fun, frolic and laughter
Shouts so hush,
The passion of the atmosphere
Like a rainbows blush..

Temple sounds
Flowers in merriment draped,
Deities and faith echo
How the fiesta takes shape..

Sweetmeats and exotic treats
Market stalls are at bliss,
The dance of celebration
And the smiles I can't miss..

Embraced not forgotten
Returns the jovial day of Holi,
Washing vigorously, I hide
But it eventually re-discovers me..

Pretty-in-pink

IMG_0297
Originally uploaded by Shuchi Mittal.

Almost forgot to pay salute to my best new friend on the beach, the perfectly iced, peachy pink, decorated to drive you into an endless slumbering trance..the famous "Thai Fruit Shake"

..not fruit cake you idiot..fruit shake..shake..

..and yes it's alcohol free..yet gave me the best high ever!

"Sun, Sand, Song and Men 'Gay'-lore"

IMG_0343
Originally uploaded by Shuchi Mittal.

My rhymes were fading
In the sounds of the sea..
With the frolic around me..
When I tried to write
Brightness was all I felt..
And made the poet in me melt..
So I bid goodbye
To work and plans..
Leaving my mind in a holiday blank..
The rest of the trip
Turned out just fine..
No worries, no walking the line..

And that was the theme of my trip to scorching Thailand..till I ran into..

"Khon Diaw Hua Haai,
Sawng Khon Pheuan Taai"

..meaning..'A person alone loses his/her head, but two people die friends.'

Thai's think that traveling alone on holiday is rather strange and the above very macabre rhyme expresses how awful they find the prospect! How could I sleep well after learning about this...! For a single traveller wandering beach to beach I was skeptical to tell anyone I was on my own. The first two days with a couple friend were spent just fine, specially coz they let me throw my usual tantrums. After that I was left alone..with these words echo-ing in my head reminding me of my solitude..but in spite of it I did manage to have a great get-away.

Phi phi is a haven of gorgeous men, some of most scrumptious food and a world of massages to put you at total ease [and spoil you for life!]. A large percentage of the tourists, travelers rather, were [beg your pardon] gay looking [read breathtakingly handsome and well built] men! Well that was my interpretation of it all anyway. I spent hours contemplating a passerby [there was nothing better to do!] and if there was no acknowledgment of my salivating expression...he was assumed gay! simple! Of course, his friend adorned in white shoes only strengthened my assumption.

I am not homophobic. I'm only agitated. It is almost criminal to deprive us of such a large perfectly divine population of men. The ratio was only matched by the number of angelic [read hot] women floating around the beach in their little nothings. Did I forget to mention that before? Ah well, that could be another reason for no attention to my probably starving look. I don't like to think of it that way though. My ego has taught me well..

For the rest, and coming back to the reason for this post, Thailand. The holiday was about tourists from all over the world [ which made me feel rather ashamed of how far the travel bug flu had carried me!], learning how to twirl fire from my flame friendly 9 year old instructor, doing nothing new, not thinking much [ok thats a lie], talking all I could for 2 days coz I knew the third day I would be by myself and of course, improving my thai!

Finally..from the holiday hotlist..

Travelling alone in Asia - check
Absolutely exercise-free-lazy-lump-of-lard for 4 days- check
Lots of junk food *gulp*- check
No email/internet- errr..Guilty!- Failed
Fire twirling-check
New friends/ met people - check
Water sports- check
No work nightmares - depends on the definition of nightmare- ok failed.

I did it. Well almost...

Cheers to heaps of eye candy, torturous sun burns, feet in dire need of a good pedicure, addiction to the tough hands of a thai masseuse and a rejuvenating 'wan-yut'..

*beep-over and out*

"In print addiction"

I closed the last chapter…

…but with a little embroidered book mark in place..

A read through the book taught me nothing new. Yet, I decided to save the lesson. The end. The moral, as they called it in the olden days.
A gist of the story showed me no new hopes. Yet, I decided to preserve those thoughts. Save the expressions. Re-construct the incidents one day. Someday.
An understanding of the characters put no new perspectives on people. Yet, I decided to personify them. Give them the benefit of the doubt. Live with them.
A feel of the emotions bit me in no different a way. Yet, I chose to experience them. Benefit from them. Then throw them away.

It was time pass. A hobby for the bored. A friend on a warm sunny day by the beach. An excuse for those tears that came without reason. A way to look busy when eating alone. A happy thought when nothing but thoughts could cheer me up. An alibi for being occupied, when solitude was the only thing on my mind.

Some words remind you years later of all that you should’ve understood years ago. I still don’t get them.
Some books are just not worth opening and reading a second time round. But I still do it.
Some stories never make enough sense. However true.
Some people always remain characters. In an act. Unchanged. Unmoved.
Some bookmarks remain in their place forever. Collecting memories. Undiscovered.

As I put the book down on the table, thoughts blinding me, I know I will never try to understand it for a second time..

…it’s just another pretty book mark lost to time...and hope..

"Tween a quarrel and a compromise"

Sleep sound
I got your back
When you awake
From slumber deep
I will show you
What you missed
In my eyes
In my sleep.

Walk around
To the bend
I will keep guard
Till need be
When you return
Tales I'll tell
In my words
In ways you want to see.

Make mistakes
I will pick up
After you
Leaving with a goodbye
When you look back
Sorry and sad
I will forgive
I will cry.

Hurt me deep
I will learn
For you
Lessons that
Hide your faults
And remind you where
My emotions sit
My heart is at.

Love me once
And i'll love back
So when you say
Words so sweet
With conviction strong
But truly false
I will smile
I will believe.

-Notice-

I have run out of brownie points...

...May I borrow yours?

In spite of being ultra careful, picky and highly stingy, over usage has caused a non-recoverable depletion to my brownie points reserve. Choco chip flattery, Patient-with-me macademia nut, So-sweet strawberry bits, Lend-me-your-shoulder Orea crumble, and Mend-my-mood marshmallow cream..all unavailable till further notice.

Be nice to me. I may think of baking a fresh lot.Sometime. Someday. If you're worth the effort.

(PS-Due to a complaint received from a dear friend for not making it evident enough when these brownies were distributed to her [and exactly what % she grabbed and how much did she had to do with the depletion mentioned above], I have decided to declare that this was entirely a silent give away. Might I add I was a tad bit frivolous with it but it was absolutely confidential. I and I alone track the stock beginning to end. Nothing personal. Kindly adjust)

"Meddle Me"

I am inquisitive.Very.

And today I finally accepted it. Not to anybody but myself. Smallest of things make me cringe if the possibility of learning about the 'deep-dark secret' behind them is low. I would go limits to know a juicy gossip, but still pretend I don't care much about it. I attribute this nature to being a woman. Well most of it anyway.

It's much like PMS really. Whenever convenient I show the curiosity, and at times when it questions my manners, I blame on it being feminine! Simple! Guilty as charged.

It's a quest for knowledge. A craving that doesn't hurt anyone, but might hurt me if I am the only one remaining out of the ‘loop-of-education’. Also, if there a secret floating around, someone has to be interfering enough to want to know it right? Otherwise what’s the point of a secret in the first place! The ‘don’t tell anyone but I’m telling only you’ is by far the funniest statement of all times. It has a tendency to fly around till someone whispers it back to the “secret originator” so to speak. Although, may I add that the un-matched look on the face when you are told your own secret via different channels is priceless. Painful, yet priceless.

In my defense, I am not mean or sadistic or prying. Ok, maybe I am a bit of a mess around monkey, but hey,..don’t talk about something that would raise my well trained mental acquisitiveness in the first place, if you don’t want to go along with it all the way! I need to keep myself updated. Enlightened. Hip- with it and in the pith and action of it all. And it’s but natural to go round the bend sometimes to gain that extra edge. It’s not snooping. It’s just called information seeking.

So tell me what you’re hiding. Promise…I will tell no-one! Well, almost no-one ;)

"Twinkle twinkle and i-spy"

What's the big deal about sleeping..?

..not with someone...but sleeping alone..sleeping for rest..sleeping at night..

I close my eyes, disappear somewhere and when I wake up I'm just as tired. To top that I don't even know what I did for the last 6-8 hours. Ridiculous I say. Hope the 'beauty sleep' will do me good in terms of mood,complexion,energy etc etc, but all I want when I wake up is to dive right back into bed. It's not my fault, it's the bed which does it. Pull me back that is. I only obediently oblige. Purposeful eh!

No dreams are ever re-called. Well, at least I don't remember any of them. Any of the ones that matter that is. The ones I do are too ghastly to think about. Others, silly or insignificant. Maybe embarassing. The good meaty ones dissolve in the drowsiness of the eyelids even before they open. It could have been my future which flew by me while I was in a state of temporary trance.

Sometimes I sleep talk. Scary. I could shock myself into a madness if I heard myself talking in sleep. I waste precious thoughts and words and the world misses out on them. That's not rest, thats torture. First degree. Then there are times I do realise I'm ranting some gibberish and make an effort to understand it. But then I'm asleep. What do I know.

The flip side is that I do love to sleep. I just don't understand why I do it.

Effortless, yet tiring
Calm, yet disturbing
Dreamy, yet realistic
Long, yet completes in the blink of an eye..

Sleep. Slumber. Shut eye. Professors of the sole tiring way of relaxation.

"Love Bug..and all that shmug"

One would usually kiss a frog in the hope that he turns into a prince..

Instead today, you kiss a prince and he may turn out to be a frog..

Random and absurd. But that is the sort of thought that comes to you when you combine a book, a late sandwich and peppermint tea. Throw in a remote place with very few people, a hyped up day, a rather motivating silence and not much on the mind..and the resulting thought can be nothing but bizarre..

It is possibly the V day atmosphere which made me think of fairy tales in the first place. And then when reality hit, I derive my own conclusion for the stories. Such was this. I don't mean to be derogatory. I definitely believe in love. But I believe in the reality of it.

I believe in unconditional love with some pre-set conditions.
I believe there is no such thing as 'The one', but you make them so.
I believe in Thank you's. Always.
I believe in romantic cliched movies coz they're romantic anyway.
I believe you can have a difference in the taste of music.
I believe in breakfast in bed.But if eggs is all that you can cook, I won't smile and enjoy it.
I believe in surprises when they're given on days true.
I believe in two people gelling as peas in a pod and yet having enough to quarrel an entire lifetime.
I believe in having someone by your side, but them being allowed to fall asleep once in a while.
I believe in compromises, as long as they're not from me *grin*
I believe in forgiveness and a repetition of the mistake to test the genuineness of the forgiveness.
I believe in sharing, only if it's not the last of anything.
I believe in absolute honesty but sometimes sugar coating does no harm. Infact it could win you some points!
I believe in handwritten letters and cards as long as the handwriting is legible.
I believe in romantic dinners but don't expect me to dress up every time.
I believe in understanding and supporting for the sake of love. Just don't ask me to prove it.
I believe in roses as long as they look like a different flower from time to time.
I believe every story can be a fairy tale, only you can't be the sleeping beauty every time...

..Well I guess for the sake of the dying cupid who I nearly strangled with this post, I’d say look at it this way..at least in the end he is your frog..

..Please don't turn all gooey and green on me too often and I will manage just fine..right?

Happy Valentine's all ye lovely people!
Muah!

"A step on my own toe"

People often tell me I lack attitude..I hope it's the bad type. I wouldn't want to carry the weight of that on my shoulders, and plus, I'm rather positive I am already overweight without it.

It's the same people who tell me I'm soft. No, not literally! Soft natured. Also, over sensitive, a bit gullible at times and hyper active when worried. Very moody. Moods swing me rather than the other way round.

Then there are others who say I don't get them. I think they don't express themselves enough for me to get them. I think they don't get themselves well enough to tell me what they are made up of. I think..I think they are worried to portray their true selves. Worried I may understand them too well for them to hide anything.

But I believe i like being all of the above. I would like to believe so. Everyone has a choice to be what they want to be. I choose this. I choose to be sugar coated. I choose to be concerned about others even if I lose sleep over it. I choose to be the simple gal-next-door when I could wave my hands snobbishly and trample every casual smile with my high heeled stilettos. I choose to be transparent. I speak my mind. Of course not when I'm sarcastic though. That is when you have to get me.

Attitude takes you places. The wrong sort of places. Affection takes you places as well. It takes you please you can re-discover and not run away from. Places you are not ashamed to be. Places you would brag to your grand kids about. Places of comfort.

I can be confident. My confidence lies in my secret to be submissive. Not a secret anymore. I can win over people but I choose to do so with sentiment rather than pretense. It's a temperament I support. I give way to my defense ego at the slightest risk of being called a braggart.

The reason? I want everyone to like me. Is that wrong? I worry about what everyone thinks of me and what I do. I am a phony. A phony with a twist because I would never admit the above. And I just did. Confusing as it is, I live on contradictions.

In the end, I think I could be just as much of a snoot as any of the miss-perfect-nails-nose-in-the-air-hoity-toity-walk-glances-to-kill-with-a-trail
-of-gorgeous-men-that-makes-you-green-with-envy gals....

But I choose not to be. Why? Simply because no one I know cares if my hair is styled when I need that snug hug..

...I choose to be a snoot who lost her stiff neck and tripped over her own stride somewhere along the way..

"Chessboard Politics"

While people go on and on about what they did, how they did it, why they did it, and even who they did..blah blah yadda yadda..I had a rather interesting thought this morning...

"Do men take instructions better than women or vice versa?"

Now don't you all start creating a racket here...there is of course no perfect answer to this(although men and women both will highly object to this!)...but I personally feel that if the ego allows, and if the instruction is heard loud and clear, Men would adhere to it better than Women in most cases. I say most cases, mind u. How can I be a woman and say that, you ask.I hear you! Well, I say this BECAUSE ..I'm a woman.

I don't only hear an instruction, I hear things around it I'm not supposed to, dwell on it for eons and in the process lose what the purpose of the original task was supposed to be. Men have bigger ego's. Yes, I would agree to that. But the same ego tends to make them strive for perfection. (and never attain it!).How can an expectation fall short when bestowed to a Man? Uh huh..No can't do sir, so Men tend to listen to the words rather than letting their imaginations run wild at the inappropriate times!

Think of it this way, suppose my boss screams at me and I stiffen up and refresh my attitude going forward, I'm a man. If I spend the next few days complaining how unfair that was and wasting more time than ever, and also the time of my colleagues who are randomly pulled into the conversation (females of course)..I'm definitely a woman…

If someone told me not to wear makeup one day, I would wonder if they meant that I looked better without it, or that nothing could make my face look any good so why bother with it at all! This is a woman. For a man..ok on second thoughts, bad example...

Bottom line is, we worry more about the why's and what's and who's of the situation rather than just the action and outcome. Sad, but true!

Shake your heads all you want, the situation is real and so is the reaction. Exceptions would be day to day related instructions like clean your mess, wash the dishes, make your bed, do the laundry, take a shower etc. Those are unheard of in a Man's world. Hell, men don't even consider them as instructions!

A man sees a woman
Says she looks pretty.
She thinks he is suave
Funny and witty.

They get along just well
Till along comes a task,
The man listens carefully
The woman has tons to ask.

The man thinks of answers
And how to shine,
The woman looks flustered
And reads in-between the lines.

Deadline draws close
And time is ticking,
The man is working day & night
The woman's patience is dropping.

What is he up to, she asks
It can't be taking that long,
Was it to be done like this or that?
I think I have it all wrong!

The day arrives, outcomes are compared
No one is wrong
The man details it in a page
The woman has it 20 pages long!

She smiles bashfully, he wonders
How the additional pages came,
Well, she says, I made my own instructions,
Coz the initial ones were too plain!

The man is gloating in pride
He got it out of the way
The woman just seems satisfied
Ah! It wasn't her thing anyway!

For the rest, I think I just got myself a big male fan following after this post. Now who needs to listen to any instructions when you have that eh? They'll take care of it all anyway ;)!

"The Tail of the enormous POUT"

I felt like sulking today *stop shaking your heads and grinning..I do not sulk everyday..atleast not openly!* Yeah..where was I..so I was sulking today about something very very narcistic..moping to myself about myself..and the way I am..

I hate waiting for people. Rather let me put it this way, I detest people making me wait. If I can be on time so can you. If I can estimate I will be delayed and inform the poor other(s) standing shamefully in a corner of a crowded mall, so can you!

I hate not having a plan. I plan my day, my week, my weekends, my holidays. I think I even go to the extent of planning how to plan! And when things don't go according to plan, I drive myself nuts with irritation. Talk about being a control freak eh!

I hate people not responding. Acknowledging/replying to messages, emails, cute gestures, and even looks/glances. Hey if I spent some time to cook up that little exciting message for you, least you can do it say "ok" or smile..it's worth a lot..trust me…(Note to self-refresh my stock of double chocolate brownie points, in case someone decides to action after reading this!)

I hate not having winter to utilise all my winter clothes. More than the clothes I want to experience a season where I can look huge and blame it on all the layers of padding..;)

I hate that my eyes close all the way when I smile..ok not smile, grin..nopes actually laugh..which is almost all the time. I laugh when things are funny, and when they're remotely funny. What else can I say but that I am easily amused! I am a stand up comedians [a bad one] dream come true! but caught on camera..I look a laughing eyeless ostrich [without the height ofcourse], and it isn't pretty..

I hate someone asking me a question which I can't answer. Simply because it must be one which I thought about, didn't get an answer, and ignored it flat. And someone else picking up on that is purely eerie..

I hate having on of those days. Those days should essentially be read as fat day, sleepy day, bad hair day, missed-gym-in-the-morning day, don't-know-what-to-wear-to-work day, leave-me-alone day, doesn't-anyone-love-me day..one of these each day of the week and I'm pretty much occupied everyday!

I hate that I don't listen..simply because everyone tells me I don't..*gulp*. I can see people pointing their finger at me this very moment and saying "I told you so"..

I hate being blamed for something I didn't do. Well, more so because most of the time I realise I did do it in the end[once walked through the facts] and that upsets my perfectly stacked ego..it's directly related to my point above..If I listen, understand, not be in a hurry, no mistakes will be made, no blames will be flung and life will be smooth...now if I could just co-ordinate the thought-to-action process inside myself..

I hate being uncomfortable. I rather be alone [and sulk I guess!] than be in company that disinterests me. I thrive on talking. If I can't talk to someone they're history. If I have to talk to a wall (those referenced here know who they are:p) I bring 'em down. If they don't LET me talk, they're dead! And if I find myself with people where I don't know WHAT to talk.. it's goodbye..ofcourse I can cook up gibberish [I'm great at that as well], but it doesn't feel good being the background noise..

Well that is pretty much it. For now. Don't misunderstand me, I'm not a '10 things I hate about myself' gal, there are more..many more maybe, I just need more reflect-then-fret-and-shout-days to discover them..

And an obnoxiously self centered statement to wind this up..

..I 'hate' that I'm not perfect..but 'I'd love' to be...

Time to turn off the pout and turn on the smile..

"Custom-made"

I used to be shy,
I couldn't admit,
I used to feel dry.

And then I started thinking..

I did grow
But it seemed slow,
At times I ran around
The corner to find myself bound
By ideas and compulsions
Determination and emotions.

And then I started talking..

Not a stop in view
Creating a story new,
Mislead in many a way
When I drove a loss every day
Hope that someday I will entertain
Without agenda and happiness vain.

And then I started dreaming..

Dreams of me
With others in it for free,
Once I was startled with fears
From slumber deep and tears
It was the past and future
And the present was the only ally dear.

And then I stated winning..

Luck overtook
Every page of the unfortunate book,
When I looked outside
Towards that which I hadn't tried
I finally jumped the fence
Into the face of confidence.

And then I started loving..

In my own capacity
Unconditional, yet witty
I was hurt
By words sharp and actions curt
But with the change of weather
I could think,talk,dream,win & love together.

I feel full, untied,
I have a vision,
I survived.

..Inhibitions..

I was taking a walk and I came to realise that even though too much of anything can get intoxicating, there are more than a couple of things which I want in excess...correction..need in excess...
...and some others that I would love to possess..feel..experience...and live..

I'd love to be hugged so hard that it chokes to breathe [what a perfect way to die!]
I'd love for it to be so cold that I feel frost on my eyelashes and nose tip and I dare not take out my hands even for the cup of steaming hot chocolate on the table in front of me
I'd love to hurt so much that I could cry over and over and over again it for years to come, simply because I had something that meant that much to me
I'd love to make a fool out of myself amidst silence because it would create laughter
I'd love to make mistakes and inexcusable blunders as it would teach me to say sorry
I'd love to do something just because someone else wants me to do it
I'd love to visit a place, look like someone new, feel like someone new but be myself
I'd love to be able to impersonate every expression that ever existed in a smiley face
I'd love to be followed around only because the person following me can't get me out of his/her mind
I'd love to run so fast that I could catch up with my own thoughts
I'd love to bother someone to death so that they know they're worth every second I spend on them
I'd love to laugh and laugh and laugh and never get laughter lines
I'd love to write about myself one day, as seen through a friends eyes
I'd love to always talk the amount I do [I see many many shaking heads here]
I'd love to fall only to see if there is someone below to catch me [bad call!]..and realise there isn't
I'd love to try and walk after the previous 'I'd love..'
I'd love to never have all my wishes granted coz that would leave nothing for me to dream about
I'd love to always have a helping hand and yet never consider myself helpless
I'd love to tire so I can have the greatest sleep ever
I'd love to say I want to have more space to myself but for it to be understood as I need to be suffocated with care
I'd love a list of IOU's so I could claim them all my life
I'd love to be perfect for someone and still be able to point a million faults in myself
I'd love to grow up and not old
I'd love to forever add to this list...n walk and think..n walk and think...n walk and think...

A Draft of Affection

I did believe
When I walked away,
Walked away slowly
That return I will..
I shall..

I did believe
Everyone will wait,
Wait along the way
For my dreams..
For me..

I did believe
There was a purpose to this,
Purpose fulfilling
My search for something..
Something unknown..

I did believe
There was a Smile,
Smile so enduring
To wipe away the pain..
Which had found me..

I did believe
The path was winding,
Going round in circles
But there was an end..
End quite close..

I did believe
I would have a face,
Face of pride
When I walked back..
Not empty handed..

I did believe
I could answer my own questions,
Questions grim, of life
Start new beginnings..
With people old..

I did believe
I would cry
Cry relentlessly,tears true
If believed too much..
And I did..

Aye...Guilty!

Working is an art..

Looking like you are doing work is a bigger art..

Doing work, thinking of the beach, answering work relates queries, holding that devious smile, avoiding the mind from wandering and still catching a glimpse of the 'never-seen-around-before' hunk, from the corner of the eye, as he silently crosses you is an art ..a definite art with a cheek...

Getting caught doing it all..now that deserves a prize!

..Through the Washers..

Ever thought of why we feel ashamed to cry in front of others?

I mused over it..and realised it's not only because I would feel weak..it's more so because I would be giving the other person too much power...too much face...too much of a victory to relish...and still feel weak inside..

I still cry. Cry for reasons absurd.Cry for reasons others would find funny or meaningless. Cry coz i'm hurt. Cry when I hurt others. Cry when I have reasons which make me sad. Cry when I can't figure out enough reasons to be happy about. Cry when I'm angry. Cry coz I'm getting old. Cry coz I'm not getting wiser. Cry to rejoice even. Cry alone..

The puffed-up-soggy-tomato-with-a-case-of-bad-conjunctivitis-hard-to-hide look isn't worth it all.

Wish I could make a living out of it....

Krabi

Krabi
Originally uploaded by Shuchi Mittal.

..Of Lilacs and Lemons..

Railay, Krabi-A scoop of heaven tucked away in southern Thailand. Mysterious, enchanting and a massive repository of stars..

The morning. It wakes me up. I smell the air. Nothing extraordinary as expected. How different can a morning be? But there is a forest smell and that of the beach far away from either side.(Our cottage is on a hill between east and west railay beach). Bird calls, shying away rays of the morning sun and a few beetles embarking on their daily chores, and may I add, making quite a racket while doing do!

The beach. Blue, ofcourse. Calm? Not particularly..Passionate would be more like it. The sand bed..of fragrances that don't exist, of smiles that reflect and echo..of imaginations that run wild ..everytime!

Laziness. Abundant. Tanned..even charred. Where hunger lies behind every turn and there are as many meals as sand grains on the beach..or as many as my stomach can hold without going insane..

People and Atmosphere. Surreal. Companionship when I'm alone. Even more when I'm not.Adventure in every call and friendship in ever hello. Experience of meeting people I don't know exist and losing those I do, in the crowd. Learning..everyday..
The art of saying nothing, yet hearing it all...hear the sea calling...challenging...and not replying to it..the charm of being able to hide..from it all..

Of sunsets that rejuvinate..
Of Waves that leave you craving for more..
Of Intoxication that spells ME
Of Holidays that dream of laughter..

Cheers to a wonderful Thailand trip and a great great New Year ahead!