Love, hate and then hate some more

I have been told time and again that HATE is too strong a word. I have also been told that LOVE is the strongest emotion in the world. I feel LOVE is too strong a word to use and HATE the strongest emotion.

Elders and the obviously more experienced will advise that hate is the all consuming emotion and the root cause of most hardships.

What I do not understand is how hate or love can be classified good or bad. A number of hate crimes have their base in romance and so called love.

A disgruntled lover, a jealous ex-wife or an overly suspicious boyfriend. All commit heinous crimes in the name of love.

A soldier at the border on the other than takes lives and lays down his own, not for his hatred of humanity, but for his love for the motherland.

So where is the love and where is the hate? And are the two really any different form each other?

I feel hate. I do. And the elders are right. It is this all consuming mind numbing absolutely enraging emotions that makes my see red everywhere. It blinds me to reason and logic and makes me immune to sense.

I also do regret most things I say or do when consumed by hatred, but one cannot help it. At least I cannot.

I guess love and hate are two sides of a coin and being humans, we flip it to our convenience.

Ironically Speaking

As a child, I always wondered what adults meant when they said, :Oh! the irony of this situation!"

Now I know.

Irony is what hits you in the face when you are having a good time. It is what cracks you up when you feel in the pits.

It is what makes you question the world and its people, their intentions, their motives, their true nature. It is also what gives you the answer to that question that has been nagging you to the point of insanity.

Irony is what can make you bitter, make you hate, make you disillusioned. It can bring a sense of logic and with it unbridled serenity.

Irony is when you realise that life is not a walk in the park. And ironically, I feel I was better off not knowing.

That one friend...

We all have that one friend who says, "I am not an attention seeker!" but incessantly does things to attract attention.

We all have that one friend who says, "I am not hungry, don;t order/make for me," and eats from your plate (never mind how many rats your tummy is harbouring :D).

We all have that one friend who calles you in the middle of the night and asks , "So rahi thi?"

We all have that one friend who says, "Main hoon na, Tension nahi lene ka!" and invariably messes up the task.

We all have that one friend who silently observes a crisis and then when everyone has reached their wits' end, he comes up with a solution nothing short of sheer brilliance.

We all have that one friend who jokes and pulls our leg to no end, quiet mercilessly, but is the first to lend a shoulder to lean on when the time comes.

We all have that one friend who talks so sweet that we don't know what has hit us till we find ourselves over committed to a cause that isn't our own.

We all have that one friend whose voice makes a shitty day pleasant.

We all have that one friend who is the permanent third wheel, but you can'y imagine your life without them.

We all have that one friend who is so stern that you prefer to face your parents' wrath than their's.

We all have that one friend who makes you feel like it's gonna be ok, and only he/she can do that.

We all have that one friend who makes it difficult to resist temptation.

We all have that one friend who makes you want to be a better person, no matter how tough the road seems.

We all have that one friend that we are confused about.. "Do I like him or do I not?"

We all have that one friend who quotes authors and great people.

We all have that one friend whom you can go back to and be as you were when you met last.

We have a lot of friends and we are friends to many. Like the old saying goes, 'friends are the family you choose,' and boy what a madcap family we end up chosing...and cherishing.

Trust me on this one

We go through life, stumbling, faltering, rejoicing, grieving and most of all learning.

Every interaction, is a lesson - a lesson is in the journey of life. An important lesson we learn along the way is trust. I feel babies have it right. They trust their care giver, in most cases, their mother. Then comes daddy dearest and the rest of the people follow. The logic is simple – mommy dedicates her day to the baby. Her routine is centered around the needs of the little human. She makes sure that the baby is comfortable, clean and fed. It’s as simple as that.

And then, the baby grows up, learns parameters of society and his existence and learns that trust may be based on more than food, hygiene and a soothing voice to croon you to sleep at night. Trust takes on a more ‘adult’ meaning and that is where the problem begins.

That friend who stole his eraser because blue appealed more to him than the green eraser his mum bought him, that teacher who always smiled at him in the morning, could not cause she had paper correction on her mind, that classmate who ratted him out cause he did not want his parents called to the school. All came together changed his perception of trust.

Moving on in life, he learns trust in the form of different relationship – from friends to colleagues, from siblings to lovers, from parents to superiors, from teachers to neighbours – everyone teach him a thing or two about trust. Now he has so much more to consider when he trusts someone.

It isn’t about physical comfort or honesty only anymore. It now becomes about whether telling someone something matters. Whether he will be judged or helped, whether he will be laughed at or laughed with, whether people will sympathise or empathise. He begins to doubt his own judgment and lets it be clouded by all the possible ifs and buts. He stutters and stammers and is confused about who he can trust.

Questions buzz through his brain. How will my lover respond? What will my mother think? What if my father gets angry? What if people stop being friends with me? Will people think I am lame? What if word spread? What if I a wrong?

This is the stumbling and floundering he goes through in life. If he is lucky, he gets over his insecurities, mans up and puts his trust in one person or more. Sometimes, the gamble pays off and life seems less bumpy for a while. If things don’t go his way, he is back to stumbling and may even lose his way for a while.

Maybe this is life’s way of teaching him that of the people he needs to trust in life, his self comes foremost. Once he learns this lesson, things may seem tad easier, questions a little less daunting and decisions clearer. But till he learns this lesson, he continues to struggle and stumble through this journey called life.

The only solace is that no one has emerged a total winner in the game of life, but then, no one’s come out of it alive as well.

Trust me on this one.

Dil Maange More?

Very often I have had rather interesting conversations with a friend about 'the chase'. She is of the opinion that any relationship is interesting as long as there is a chase. The minute there is nothing to chase in a person, the parties consciously or otherwise lose interest.

While I have always adamantly differed, I must concede now that my friend may actually be enlightened on this topic much more than I give her credit for.

I guess in this case, a warped version of 'A forbidden fruit tastes sweeter' come into play. You only yearn for the fruit till you do not know how it tastes. Once you do, you move on in search of another to excite and titillate your palate. In that case, how does on maintain stability?

So is that what is wrong with our generation? Pepsi said 'Dil Maange More'. It would seem that our 'dil' is always asking for more and while some would agree that wanting more is the way ahead, I wonder when and how much really is enough?

Returning to my conversation with my friend, I realised that she actually had a point, which she herself may have missed. Maybe it's not actually the chase that keeps up the intrigue, it's the possibility of exploring something new, discovering the hitherto unknown and diving into uncharted waters.

Looking back, I realise that I have been irritated or messed up in any situation when the novelty wears off and you know too much about someone or something. Be it a job, a friendship or a relationship or a city even, what overwhelms me is the fact that there is nothing new to look forward. I may resist change, as humans, I believe we adapt by instinct and not by choice, but the regular soon becomes monotonous. So maybe, all the tabloid columns about mixing it up and shaking the scenes do make sense.

Fat and proud?

Variety is the spice of life.

It is often asserted that life is beautiful and the world is interesting because if offers a diversity. Diversity in colour, diversity in intellect, diversity in perception, diversity in opinions, diversity in ideas and ideology, and diversity in shape.

There are people of different shapes and sizes all over. Some slender, some stout, some round.

I fall into the last category. Have done so for almost all my life (except for a brief period where hostel food and gymming and, according to a certain male friend, the onset of anorexia, which I refuse to believe).

Up until sometime back, I was only mildly bothered by the roundness of my physical existence. I actually ardently argued that 'Round is a shape'.

The rosy notion of 'Fat and Proud' was soon to be shattered as time went on. Diet fads and clothes that make you look 'fab' and 'sexy' started making their impression on me. Suddenly, the notion changed to 'Fat and hating it...more and more by the minute'.

Reality struck me hard across the face when I felt an inexplicable rage at being told by a friend that I have put on so much weight. I couldn't stand to be in the same room and felt my face go red (with shame, embarrassment or rage, its a matter of debate). Not only did I feel publicly humiliated, the funny thing was that I am one of those who makes 'fat' jokes on myself (and have been duly reprimanded for them as well).

So what changed? A friend suggested I decide whether am ok being fat/plump/chubby. I replied, "Of Course!" And that was the death of my charade. He vehemently argued that had I been ok, it wouldn't have mattered who made fun of me and how. He went on to even suggest that I should put my status message as 'Fat and Proud' just to accept that I am ok with being fat and called so. Maybe he was testing my resilience on the matter, or it was his idea of a joke. Either way, I realised, I am NOT ok with being called Fat.

It may be shallow, immature and just plain old over-sensitive, but the fact of the matter is, somethings more than others, are better left unsaid. Not because I feel hurt or its rude. Simply because some realities take longer to accept, digest and embrace.

In the end, the greatest form of acceptance is accepting yourself, with each fibre (and adipose cell too) as your ultimate reality.

The tricky little thing called Familiarity

Familiarity breeds contempt.

For as long as I remember, I have uncannily related to this idiom and rationalised my affinity towards it with random instances of misgvings with those I share my living space with.

A recent incident though made me realise what a boon familiarity is. On an assignment to interview the founders of an ad agency, I was required to make my way to their office in a suburb of Mumbai. Being extremely resilient in NOT ASKING for directions unless necessary, I politely declined the interviewee's offer to help. I relied on Google Maps.

My journey from the station to the office took me through an area completely unknown to me. it consisted of snaky little lanes with open drains (though they looked more like clogged serpentine masses of black goo), garbage dumps, shacks in the name of houses and people who seemed so amused by my presence that they stared irrespective of their gender. My first instinct was to draw up the zipper on my grey hoodie and keep my eyes to the ground lest anyone be tempted to strike a conversation. Of all the times that I boasted of equality and feeling comfortable in diverse cultural environs, this was NOT one.

Uneasiness started to set in. What was supposed to be a seven minute walk had already become a 15 minute walk (trek if you consider the bumpy road and all). That is when i saw it. A small jeweler's shop with the usual sets and utensils made of gold and silver out on display. The jeweler was chatting with his customers and trying to persuade them to buy one thing or another. Right beside the glittery wares was a frame with Lord Mahavir Swami's photo (he is a Jain God). That instant brought me so much relief I did not know it was possible. Without skipping a beat, I went into his shop and ask him for directions. He gave me the same directions and time estimates as the others had given. I even prolonged the conversation and switched to Gujarati. After those two minutes of inconspicuous conversation with him, I went on my way, surprisingly calmer and somehow not breathing so hard.

I found the place and the interview went well and my journey from the ad agency to home was pretty much mundane. On my way back though, I realised that familiarity is a double edged sword. While i get that urge to run away from environs that have become too known (people, places, routine all included), the fact remains that a friendly face in the crowd goes a long way in making the journey worthwhile.

Familiarity does breed contempt, but unfamiliar landscapes may just not be worth it after all.

Realms

There is life beyond the realms of our knowledge..nt the extra terrestial..but everyday life..there ppl who still don knw abt facebook..ppl still walk miles for a can of water..ppl still holdin on to traditions which we find exotic..rituals and customs we find obsolete are others' way of life..the truth is that man's realm of knowledge needs to be ever expanding..but ssadly maybe shrinkin progressively..for its always true that one man's awe and disbelief is another man's reality..and life jus goes on...

A Balancing Act..

On an empty road i travel...the night is silent...but the mind is buzzing wid thoughts..and a chilly breeze soothes the senses n i think...this is it..this is all that there is to life...the silence of nature and the commotion of human thoughts...the divine balance...and the supreme imbalance..

I Shall Wait

I Wait.

I wait for the sun to rise.

I wait for inspiration at work.

I wait for inspiration to strike me in the face.

I wait for that feeling of happiness that makes ones spine tingle and let out an involuntary giggle.

I wait for life to surprise me as I have been surprised in the past.

I wait for that change everyone tells me will come my way and turn my world upside down.

I wait to be swept off my feet.

I wait to be shown a different, more enigmatic and less heinous world.

I wait for the miracle called LIFE to show itself and make me a believer.

I wait in that long queue of people who are just waiting and can't figure out what it is they need.

I wait to grasp that which eludes by a fraction of an inch, titillating me with its proximity and yet frustrating me with its elusiveness.

I wait. And I wait some more. Never flinching. Never wavering.

People say I lack faith. People say I should believe. Do they not see me waiting? Waiting for life to move on. Waiting for life to take a turn.

Waiting for life to come alive.

And I shall wait. And I shall wait some more.