..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..