Skip to content

Month: January 2012

Disclaimer

Whatever I write is not complete and that’s NOT all about it. Only those things that meant something to me, good or bad, cherished or despised, are focussed. Neither the incidents nor the people mentioned are fictional. But this is not complete. This is not all about what it is, or what they are. More than these words of mine, they make my life complete. Its just a quick peek. So, dont judge already. 🙂

This is not like me writing. But very much like me talking. I’ve such preludes and intro dialogues when I talk, but hardly when I speak like a keyed toy.

The ringing sorrow!

Sorrow rings, doesn’t it? Inside your soul, inside your brain, inside your very self. It rings in monotonous yelps. In everybody around me. In everything around me.

Everything needs a reason. So is my theory. The above paragraph is the reason. (It is my yesternight’s craziest ever random rambling. Lol.) And the cause is my new action plan. That is something like, one day a post, about a family member. I can be quite confident about writing that coz hardly one or two of my family reads my blog. The reason, elaborated, is that I mumble inaudible cries and pathos and call it ‘my blog’, whereas I actually want to write proper sensible stuff and feel satisfied. The first paragraph was an aftermath of one such attempt. So were my many previous posts. So finally, I need to anchor my ship somewhere and relax before setting of for this long exhausting voyage. And my family that is.

My dad was born into a family of eight kids, which makes it four brothers and three sisters to him. And leaves me with so many uncles and so many aunts and their families, completing my ‘big’ family with so much to talk about. My mom is sibling-rich too. Two sisters and one little brother. Stay along. And read about my whole family before you wonder where I got my crazy streak from!

Vekkam!

Athu penmai pesidum muthal aasai varthai thaan…Vairamuthu’s awesome lines about a woman blushing! The face turning pink in blush, at the thought of her man, expressing the yearning.

That’s just one form of ‘vekkam’ or blush or shyness or whatever. There are other forms, more complex and ironic. Self rupturing and mutilating kinda. But then, they cant be casually referred to as shyness or embarrassment. They are step closer to loss of respect to one self. And for a person with self respect as all that’s left in life, its an ultimate irredeemable loss. One that pushes you to death. Through with it!

Aghast!

Taken aghast by the turn of events. So totally shocked to move a limb, raise a thought, utter a word. I’m shivering. Not in the chill. But in the coldness around me.

Changes are what people should be used to and okay with. But then, I aint very happy about the very change. One pushed
after the after, my stack is full. Overflow condition! They are still in stack. Cant execute any of them. Coz none of them gets popped. My top pointer was never incremented. How the heck am I gonna empty my stack and finally ‘accept’ changes!

Ah crap! My programming sucks. I’m ashamed to call it coding. ‘Coding’ sounds techy and geeky. But ‘programming’ is okay for losers like me. There’s always this bug that escapes my eyes. Rather, my skills. It usually is too late before I even acknowledge that the code is erroneous.

What do I do then? What are my options? I cant change a bit. I cant take change a bit. I’m just so fucked by the changes. And the blow, one after the other. Too heavy to be blown away!

The three days!

‘Three days’ wouldn’t ring a bell to most. ‘Those days of the month’ says it though. Yeah, menstrual days, periods, the cat with its throat cut. Its all the same! But three is significant. Read further.

Bought up in Kerala, with the obvious inhibitions and consciousness of a woman, trust me its difficult. Just too difficult to actually ‘ask’ for sanitary pads. Super market billing counter is a different thing. Asking for ‘it’, waiting till the shopkeeper finds your brand and specifications, and finally making sure he wraps it up with something, rushing out without making eye contact. Its more difficult than taking the first step in proposing to someone! Trust me when I say that for its my experience. 🙂

How many of us women actually let others know if we are thru ‘those’ days? For some of us, it appears quite obvious when the body quite doesn’t cooperate. Its fine somebody getting to know. Not having ‘it’ in time is what concerns you here, so its perfectly fine. But announcing it? Going around and saying that ‘I’m on my periods!’ That’s impossible. Ah, and that is what I go through every month. Its disgusting. Tell your husband, tell your bro, tell your dad, tell your friend. Even tell your friend. But saying it to another male is like ‘ugly’, if I may want to sound polite and euphemistic.

So why would you say? For those first three days, you become an untouchable. When your body craves for some warmth, you’ll be dragged down the cosy bed to icy floor. Dont touch anything. Dont stay close to anything. Just dont dont do anything. Thank god, my books and phone doesn’t get washed if I touch them!

All these are what you suffer if you fall into a Brahmin family. But what it does to you is awesome things. The first three days of extreme pain, if any, you get cent percent rest. It lets you muster courage to go ‘ask’ for it. Not the least, it lets you realise the worth of touching things around you and existing with them! The bed suddenly turns more warm, the sofa all the more cosy, and the carpet becomes the best thing you have ever felt!

Have faith!

I broke my new year resolution. Not purposefully. My body couldnt make it though my mind was all set. Both the days I didnt post anything, I had drafts saved. Very clear thoughts waited in patience to be crafted into the most beautiful words of mine. They never got satisfied. my thoughts died a horrible death as my body was pushed into the abysmal emptiness of sleep. As my body relaxed, my soul was crushed. I failed a commitment made to myself. How can I ever be trusted by someone else. I might cheat. I might fall back on my words. And my body will always be there to take the blame.

Please. Have faith in me. Trust me. I wont fail. Not again and again. My thoughts need an after death ceremony atleast. They’ll attain peace as they mate with my words. If not this night, their cravings to be caressed by my irresistible words will be fulfilled. They’ll unite. My words yearn for my thoughts too. They are in love. My voluptous thoughts ad tempted words will have their night!

Changing images..

“Alone in the crowd”. What does it mean to you? A clichéd sentence? That it sure is. It is a very basic emotionally crappy but mercilessly over used statement. But when at times it really grows beyond the hollowness of the words, the whole weight of the world settles down on your self. No sound would come out. No signs of life would be seen. All in life, you’d wonder why isn’t even death giving you company. It’s as though, everyone and everything is afraid of you. Running away from me, I am not sure if they are safe or get hit in their running spree.

In my initial days of ‘socialising’, (ie getting introduced to orkut and chat), the images with tags amused me. As a matter of fact, I still am  a fan of images with words on them. I was so greatly addicted that I used to switch my display pic every now and then. Back then, I had this image that said, “My presence intimidates you, doesn’t it?”. It was not suggestive of anyone. It rather included everyone then. My world then, comprised of my random group of friends who had ‘immense’ respect and fear towards me, a obsequious sister, a protective brother and parents who’d rather stay aloof from my things. None of them seemed like they shivered in my presence, but evidently, it wasnt difficult for me to make it happen either. However, I never chose to intimidate anyone.

Images changed. Things changed too. Then came the gtalk image collections. The ‘autumn leaf’ and the ‘pen in hand’ were my favourites. Albeit, I switched to the freshness of the ‘green leaf’ or the playfulness of the ‘monkey face’. The ‘red rose’ tempted and lingered. I never budged though! 😛 Out of nowhere, ‘my’ snaps proved the best to me! Made a resolution to myself that all my photo statements would be trademarked, all copyrights to me. All because, ‘somebody’ commented I am good with photography, that my hand aint shaking holding the camera!! Anybody remembers?

Ever since then, it has always been my clicks that spoke. The ‘shadow’ era was then. Nothing but the shadows of everything! I didnt miss a single shadow. The flowing hair can be shot in the shadow, without the flowing tears. The proud stride can be seen, without the frail smiles. A silhouette leaves a lot to the viewer to imagine! That was my lesson number one for myself with photography! But the underlying principal, the zeroth lesson, was given to me by my bro. He never managed a click as good as mine(no offense, lol), but still gave me the best lesson in photography. I should have known it for myself, but he had to tell me the focus of the image is the corners and never the centre!

I took photos. From the 2MP phone camera, I moved on to the 5MP digital camera. Then further, got pushed down to a 3.2MP phone cam since that came in more handy. The railway tracks, the hairpin bents, the endless road, the splashing water.. everything was clicked. Somewhere in between, I lost track of my snap and display pic sync. I moved back to my ‘image with words’ style. On with, “Walking away from everything…”, “Do not dare touch my phone.”, “I have my own rules..”. All those were my phone wall papers, at various points of time. Even now, I’m stuck with something that displays a false message that the phone is locked! I miss those awesome snaps of mine! I need a camera. An awesome one! And I have to win a photography competition! Lol. Never in life have I had such a clear goal. 🙂

All these ramblings are here now coz I went through every single snap of mine from the past today. Was searching for an image to set up as Google+ image.  And what did I get!! LOL. I am badly in need of an awesome collection of pics! Life can be awesome or gruesome. It never bothers enough. For all that it is, life is still picturesque! A photograph yet to be perfected. Waiting for a bold camera. My snap is not done yet.

The final lap

Nobody ever makes it to the final lap. Knowing it all, I still run. Ran into an old friend today. Doing her bachelor’s degree in Visual Communication, she had her course of living. Facebook naturally lets you take a look. And what I saw leaves me awestruck! Instantly, I grew jealous of her. All those things, that she now does, were my passion once. Or may be, they still are. And I had no clue what would actually take me to my destiny, which truly would be mine, and make me happy at the same time. And now when I look at it through these camera lenses, I assume strange dimensions and weird hues to my imaginations.

Its too late for the right move. To the right thing. To the right position. To the right decision. To the person. I dont decide anymore. My decisions have started failing me. Leaving things to their course of happenings. Uneasiness is settling around everywhere. Fear gripping me tighter.

She does This!

The Fear

If there’s one thing that completely occupies me other than a book, it always will be a journey. Travelling around has been something that I always loved. Unknown roads, uncertain destinations. That’d be how I love it. But yeah, considering my limited resources for such an expedition, I tend to be more than happy with a planned itinerary through the ever same roads. Being alone, having time for yourself, talking to oneself. They are the best parts of a travel. The plugged in headset and the book in hand ruin the tranquility a journey offers. But now if you see me travel, I always have either one of them or mostly both of them with me. They spoil the fun. But they are indispensable to me now. Having time, talking to myself. They are all tiring me. I just dont need time alone. I’d have chosen to write. But now, I dont write that liberally. My writing is limited to my stipulated time slots. So I read. I dont sing. And I dont want to talk. So I listen.

Fear is something that never crept into my journeys. I dont know how could it be possible that I’m actually afraid of something relating to travel? Afraid of bus travel? What phobia is that? Whatever that is, that’s what I’m suffering from. My most dreadful six hours were today! The ones that I’d not forget a life time. The darkness rushing into you, the chill running down your spine. Shivering in the cold outside, and fear inside. Crying and consoling yourself. Acting normal to avoid the stares, dying within to shut down everything around you. It was a wreck. A mishap. Never again happening. Never alone. The fear is abysmal. As much as the darkness. The journey is eerie. As much as the memories that gush out.

Talking aloud your fear calms down, is the crap that I always hear. I have no such stupid notions. My fears go with me to the grave. It gave me a good blog post. That’s all the idea behind ‘screaming’ out your fear! So, all those who read. Dont come and advocate me how pointless is my fear and convince me to get rid off it. Thanks. 🙂

Broken!

Why? Why would I even want to kill myself again? I’m dead. Way back then, I was dead and cremated and mourned upon. Mourned upon? Not sure, but yet. Everybody was given a chance. Why would I push myself through it again? Not necessary. I am not planning to end my already ended life. Its pointless. And I, of all people, dont do pointless things. Its the self righteousness and rationalism overpowering me. Sometimes, overthrowing the ‘power’ itself. Every broken element around you laments and begs for your mercy. To attend to it and fix its broken pieces. But a broken glass never complains. Or may be its screams for help are lost unheard in the shattering itself. Its ‘broken’. There’s not a fix to it. Perhaps, the glass is wiser to know its fate by itself, a step ahead than the onlookers.

I may not be the broken glass. Often, glasses are broken by me. Broken remains broken always and knows its state for itself. Nobody can help anything about it. Coz in the end, its just broken. And shattered! Dont try to pick up the pieces. Every one of them has a sharp edge, to cut through you and drip your blood till the last drop of it. Dont touch. I aint any blood thirsty vampire!

I’m different. Unique. The most. I’ve my ways. Seemingly indifferent yet simply different. Reasons to die. To quit. To put off the light. Everyone has it. What’s new if all I have are the same? I’ve MY reasons. Reasons not to live. Not to live means death? Essentially, it has such an implication. But no such definite meaning to it. My reasons are the ones that tell me why I shouldn’t live every other moment of my life, dragging me through the very same life.

Shove those reasons down my throat. Tell me why I dont deserve living the moment, every single moment of life. Because, I am not dying anymore. Not again! Not without reasons! Rather, not with reasons ‘not’ to live.

Nandan.