Category: People

Relieved!

~ Soumya ~ Leave a comment

Feels like something heavy has been lifted off my shoulders. Or may be off my heart. I find the lightness at my head though. Light headed! A sudden revelation that could relieve my entire body and mind. Manoeuvring through the life entanglements,
I’ve finally found space for myself. Time for myself. And a life for myself.

I’m in a hurry. I dont have time to rest and relax. I’ve just found a way not to rust and perish. I am yet to walk it’s length. One fine moment, I feel like Vivekananda. “Awake! Arise! Stop not till the goal is reached!” And in some other undefined moment, I feel like Murphy. “Spend sufficient time in confirming the need and the need will disappear.” And then I’m dropped into limbo. Abandoned and lost. In the company of cast aside existence. Into the oblivion. Without decisions. Without reasons. Held into an indefinite confinement.

Where do I go? What do I do? Why would I do? How do I do? When do I do? Back again, What! Dont answer me. I’m not expecting answers. I’d even strangle you to death if you hint on answering any of my questions. I’m in constrained privacy. And over that, I find it cumbersome to carry a pen and a paper wherever I go. That’s the reason why things that should have been cosy in a hardbind diary have ended up here on wordpress hosting. But that doesn’t let anybody to walk in and judge. This is public. Come. Read. Enjoy. Criticise. Appreciate. Judge. That’s it. That’s where I draw the line. Dont step across.

P. S. To all my readers of sound discretion, I’m sorry if I appear like I’m building fortresses across my ramblings. I really am upto it. Intelligence reports say that an internal insecurity attack is around the corner! Confessing my insecurity.

Chachummai!

~ Soumya ~ 2 Comments

My mom is employed. I have never thought anything about it. She goes to office every morning. And comes back home every evening. That was all about it. But suddenly, I’m extremely grateful that my mom has got a job. That she was busy and couldn’t stay with me all the time. I missed my mom. A lot. But never beyond compensation. She used to come home with hot samosas and ice candy. Whatever time she had, she always spent it with me. I was a happy kid. Just the usual happy happy childhood. But then, was I just plainly happy or was I more?

This is not about my mom. This is about my chachummai (Sarswathi ammai, shortened by a kid’s accent). She was ammaammai (mother’s mother) to my cousins and my sis, but always chachummai to me. After long, I felt an instant intimacy brewing between us. Or may be, only within me. We sat together. My chachummai, my twin cousin lechu and me. She was with a new assignment for both of us. Testing our Tamil vocab and language skills, she was reciting verses from the SriMurugan calendar (her trademark, if I may add). She wanted us to explain them to her, in senthamizh! It was a come back for me. From a dark vicious episode of mental imbalances and my innate insanity, I felt all normal and peaceful.

May be it’s her age. May be it’s her calm self. May be it’s her drawing charm. May be it’s just nothing but the closeness I have with her. When with her, the inner turmoil may not vanish. But it definitely stays away and gives me room to breath.

Back to where I started. I was a bit more than the usual happy happy kid. All my Mom’s absence was filled with my fonder chachummai! Absence makes the heart fonder indeed!

Seasoned!

~ Soumya ~ 2 Comments

I may not be a seasoned writer. Ah! That’s never the point here. That was so randomly stated just to go along with the title.Seasons are just so praised and so visualised as if they were the nature’s most true essence. Truly though, they indeed are something so. Poetry and literature, as I’ve always seen dearly embraced seasons and the change they symbolise. From summer to monsoon. To spring. And to winter. (I bet I got the order wrong!) The transition has been ever so slow and steady. The blunt curves of temperature and drooping scale of humidity. Seasons always mesmerise, with the awesome relativity we tend to establish with human lives. So much so, I’ve fallen in love with the word ‘rithu’ (In Malayalam, meaning season). Seasons are long. And take large radius curves to never let us feel the abrupt change. Truly a process of gradual transition. And hence it feels awkward human lives are compared to seasons.

People dont change so gradual. The sharp edges of moving on with things pierce everything around us. People are like weather. Short lived, miniature of seasons. The transience is so much similar to people and their contrasting thoughts, that change over an year, a month, even over a single night. Ah! That’s why you have fair weather friends and not fair seasoned ones!

These are a lot more about seasoned. I am really loving those yummy yummy seasoning over my double cheese pizza. I’m planning on making it something like my staple food or so! Rotflol. But idiotically, the primary seasoning that I was referring to, here, was the one that I caught recently in Hindi soap operas. However though, I dont follow the language and yet the ‘season’ was so obvious! Well the season was just about how romance blooms between the protagonists and how that ends up in the usual Indian style dimming of lights and kissing dolls!

Threats!

~ Soumya ~ Leave a comment

People are dumb. I’m dumb enough to accept it as an eternal truth. With my acceptance, let people remain so, with their ever long competition to win the dumbest of all dumbasses crown! Kids with explosives. That’s what people are, with their venomous tongues and out of control mind, all owing to their innate dumbness andsenselessness. Threatening eachother has become a new way of getting things done. Topped by how dumb you are, insanity level shoots up all around!

Right from kindergarten kids, to those with wisdom teeth and to the toothless generation, everybody believes in the abundant power of threats.Surprisingly yet. It works! Works with all. Worked out by all. That’s the sad thing about threats. They are too mean to be used by people whom you look high upon. When unexpected people come up with unorthodox demands and impossible threats to meet them, it is pathetic. As pathetic as to be shot by a toddler with a toy gun! People know eachother’s weakness. Too much knowing makes you weak and vulnerable. Even more, the fragility makes you play cheap tricks and degrade the righteousness of one’s existence.

As always and as everything, there do exist exceptions. Plenty that I’ve seen and a handful that I’ve had first hand experience from. Those with high held virtues and theories as a measure of abundant caution against all threats and trials. What could it be, that shields them from all the exposed tricks of a human mind? Insensitivity or satiety are too far fetched answers. It could just be a sensible mind’s impeccable rationality. Or a subtle ignorance rooted in crude knowledge.

Threats, if ever worked, are always at a cost so indispensable called love and compassion. Triumph fails to replenish. For the cost you pay is never expendable!

The colours of Holi!

~ Soumya ~ 2 Comments

The splash of colours and the ‘holi’ spray gun are what welcomed me to college today. The fervor and spirit in those guys were unbeatable. The dashing along the corridors and the welcome party at the entrance were unexpected. Yet again, the least of expectations was that they’d come to a docile group of girls by the corner(which obviously included me :P) to shed the ‘holy’ colours! And surprisingly, not a tinge of any colour or spray was seen on me. It was as though I turned non-existent even to a gang of shrewd festive spree struck guys!

I didn’t want myself to be soaked and lost in those colours of theirs. But the point is evidently obvious here. Being left alone doesn’t feel good. I’d have wanted to be a part of all the fun. But I believe in the natural sense of belonging you thrive upon, rather than a cooked up and manipulated mingling. I’m not regretting. Just looking back on yet another day, of feeling out of place and being ridiculed at. I’m glad nobody pushed me into any of those. But I’d have really appreciated myself if I could spot any inviting eyes. There could be a hundred reasons why things are sober. Could be that I am too withdrawn that people actually think I could be insane. Or it could be simply that everyone is caught in the mess and finds it difficult to make sense to themselves. Or even, it could be just that I look too old to fall into anybody’s group!

But yeah. Everything happens for a reason. Untouched by the colours, I was walking along the black and white corridors of my mind only to meet a much cherished person of the college, face to face. My most respected and dignified teacher. I was more than shocked to see he noticed that I’d not done the colours, and even pulled my legs on keeping away from all the frolic. Amazingly though, I felt good. That he talked to me after long, with a long lost intimacy. It didn’t take me long to grab my senses back and stride ahead with more pride than ever. Everything sure happens for a reason. It’s never about being left out. It’s all about how you cope till you finally reach your abode. Reach safe and sound. That’s the bigger challenge. Mine is unclear. I’m squinting. Coping till then!

Changing perception

~ Soumya ~ Leave a comment

A change in my perceptions is the least of my expectations. But surprisingly, I’m through with a very drastic change of opinion. Not specifically about someone or something. But generally about everything, about everyone. All things trace back to a reason. So does this sudden change. I cant pinpoint any particular incident. But yet, vaguely, it’s all related to my recent family get together. Falling back to the land of my dreams, walking around the source of my spirits, what I gained back could be partially termed as my sanity. Out of the blue, people turn more transparent, and life seems so much more clear if not plain and simple.

I am afraid this post might be very specific since most my readers precisely know about the instances and incidents that I am hinting at. I am a person with very strong opinion and sense of discretion. Atleast, so does people around claim about me.I am shook by one such judgment of mine. The moment I hated being so judgmental!! Ironically, I cant even judge if this is like being judgmental. I always thought ill of this person. I am not wrong. The ‘ill’ feeling hasn’t gone anywhere. It’s there. As strong and as deep as it were. But yet, something is topping it up now. A sense of strange change in perception. For the first time, I could see there’s a point why the person could be so. I could think of accepting the way things are and live with it, without complaints or regrets. I could think of justifying the person’s actions, after years of struggle to cope with the harm it brought on me. I could actually forgive. Nobody asked for forgiveness. Nobody even knows I could have had such a wound in me. But yet, in that flick second, the person opened up and I could see myself crying. Standing by the dimly lit corner of our home’s entrance, I wished nobody saw both of us. Talking, rather whispering. I held out my hand to hold the person’s hand. I expected my hands to be held too. But it was not to be. I didn’t withdraw nor did I pause. I went on to hold hands, with all that it takes for my pride to oblige. Hands entwined, I saw somebody’s life unwinding in front of my eyes. Treading the same path, feeling the same agony, laughing at the same joke, fearing the same fate. I could finally topple my
ideologies. I could let go. I forgave the person. Begged for forgiveness too. Within myself.

The baby times!

~ Soumya ~ 2 Comments

Preface : https://soumyavg.wordpress.com/2012/01/31/disclaimer/

Me and baby? What relativity eh? Seriously, I’m wondering too. Eventually, it seems like there’s a lot of relativity though. Not that I’ve, out of nowhere, started loving all those ‘cute’ baby photos or all those pink ‘n blue things of life. But things have definitely changed between me and the babies.

My bro always pulls my legs on how I used to check if the diaper is on before getting anywhere near my cousin’s child. I dont think anybody believes him on that now. It seems a near impossibility now coz I’ve gotten that intimate with the kid. Back then, I had told only him about how I used to do that. Nobody else holds a reason to believe it now. I dont even realise how much has change swept over me.

Its a wonderful kid. I cant say the ‘best’ coz I dont know many kids to make a comparison. She’s the only one I’ve ever known. Known the best! Tending to her, reaching out to hold her hand, coaxing her, yelling at her. I’m loving it all. Love the way she calls me ‘athey’. Amazingly, I kinda even miss her when she’s away at her grandma’s. For people who have known the callous me, aren’t these ‘interesting and new’ developments? Lol. Hell they are! And I cant even bring myself upto believing it.

With all the preconceptions of people around me, I’m very much disturbed by their assumptions and notions. Its so much a relief to see her and believe atleast she knows me only the way I’m to her; nice but easily angered. I wish if things could remain that way with her forever. With someone atleast, let me sneak out of all the prejudices. She’s growing, soon losing her innocence. Life and its prejudices aren’t far from her. And I’m worried. Ironically, I crave to see her grow up into a pretty girl, yet staying the apple of everybody’s eyes. She’s one such whom I’ve loved so much that it causes envy. It might even asphyxiate her. Worry gets recursive! (Read the previous post to make some sense of the last sentences)

She’s growing. Already at the computer! Lol.

The degrees of like!

~ Soumya ~ Leave a comment

How much can you like something or someone? It is only as much as making somebody else jealous of your like. I have liked a lot of people in my life and still like a lot more of them. But then, now it feels like I’m on the nth degree of it. How plausible could that be? Can ‘like’ or ‘love’ have a saturation point? Seems like they can. Do not confuse with satiety. At the nth degree of love, (like replaced by love, coz all references herein are made to people and not to things), I am not done loving anybody. But the love feels saturated. Like, more of love can make no difference. Being so intimate to someone that moving any closer will only crush the person’s soul. As though, a bit of gap wouldn’t harm, but instead give us some air to breath. Loving people so much makes it really hard to let them take a step away from you. Taking a decision for themselves, missing out on wishing you on your special day, unexpected delaying of a scheduled meeting up. Every single one of them makes you feel like your entire world collapses there! Don’t label this obsession already. I am not talking about how obsessed am I with people.

There’s a state in between. Between love and obsession. Between hatred and falling apart. A stupid crappy state! You don’t budge. You want it done implies you WANT it done. No matter how much you push yourself into the realisation of things as simple as they are, it always seems complex and ciphered. You dont read along the plain lines of life and complain how bleak it is between the lines. As ever, simple things get complex in frail fingers like mine. Its not easy to understand straight aspects of life, when you struggle to define its implications symbolising lives! Not catching up often, missing to reciprocate wishes, forgetting to look back and failing to notice are not things that ends the world. But then, knowing is not enough. Never enough.

I love people. Have always loved them and will always do. Loved enough to make others jealous. People envy my love!

P.S. I am not in ‘love’ as in ‘love’. So please don’t ring me up and yell at me, “Why didnt you tell me earlier??”, “Dont you have the sense to keep things private?”, “Tell me who who??”. Lol. Dont do that to me coz its not what you think it is.

College – an insight

~ Soumya ~ 2 Comments

Have never talked enough about my college. More correctly, I haven’t even thought enough about this place that I go everyday. I dont curse myself as I turn the alarm off and get up every morning to rush to college. Going to college is an enthusiastic idea to me every morning. Nobody is waiting for me there. I’m not expecting to see anyone there either. But yet, its motivating enough to pull the covers off me. My class is boring. So are the people. So is what I assume, atleast. The teachers make me yawn more often than making me think intriguing. But yet. But yet I love my college.

The welcoming entrance, the parking space and the bikes aligned, the parapet with gentle backrests, the curve of the stairs that lets me take giant leaps, the pathway that gets flooded in the rain. I’m amused by everything about my college. The ‘group-ism’ in class, the boring useless lectures, the ridiculous bunch of dumbheads. Seems like I’d live through all of them or even worse, coz so much is my liking for the place. Unusually, I feel all comfortable and cosy at a place, despite it being so rough and insensitive to me. But its not the place that’s insensitive. Instances and happenings are rough. Not the place. For it have been always good to me. Walking around the campus, I’ve cried silent, laughed aloud and cursed bad. It has been just two years here, and somehow I turn more nostalgic about my college than my school where I spent years of my life. But the reason is obvious.

In school, there were people in life. They had an impact on me off campus or on campus, the place being so irrelevant. But now in college, people stop to exist. Its just incidents or accidents if you cross another person in the daily routine. Life has changed and is all about places, things and instances. People hardly hold any worth or role in life. Doesn’t that vaguely sound like I’ve turned into a materialistic jerk? Or may be it doesn’t. It just says how life has changed my notions about it and gifted me a new sense of perception.

There’s so much to write. The lovers’ point, the bunk area, the hideout, the common joint, the budding romances, student politics, management talks, teachers’ strike and a hell lot more. I need to break it up and talk. There really is so much to say. Wait for more of them.

Just a word

~ Soumya ~ Leave a comment

Words are few. To describe all life’s joy and sorrow, pain and agony, love and hate, words are too few. I have had the most of them. The best awesome wonderful words. People give it to me. Knowingly and unknowingly. Over the years, ‘people’ have contributed more than ‘reading’ in building my vocab.

The most amazing and most cherished words are given to me by my brother. I still remember how he used to make me run for the dictionary and search the meaning of every new word that he shoots at me! The abysmal fall to the oblivion is often broken by the obvious concurrence of our fragile existence and the omnipresence. Well, the sentence wouldn’t have made sense to many of you. That’s so many words that he gave me bound together! He told me how rendezvous is just rondayvoo, how sarcasm and pun are similar, what gerunds are and finally how beseech is the best word of expression! It doesn’t end in a single post. Half the words in my writing are stolen from his treasure. How many of you even know the precise meaning of vocab? Its not just a set of awesome brilliant words. Its the skill of using the right word at the place. He told me that and he gave me that.

There are more contributors. My mom gave me the second best word, solace. She instantly knew the word I was searching for! Lol. Reimbursement also owes its credit to her. My dad wasn’t any bad. He handpicked the toughest words from all available English write ups he read. In neatly folded chits, the language was flowing to me every evening, as a brook, as a river and now finally contributing to the ocean itself. He brought me paper cuttings which had English that he failed to assimilate. He’d still come to me for drafting and editing his official letters. Dad, you never knew how proud it makes me!

There was Neha of course, my closest ever friend or listener or chatter box. She called me a git and it took me five min to get the meaning! And I called her naive. And more words returned finally stuck at a loss of words. Not forgetting to mention Rahul for bringing back ‘status quo’ and ‘au revoir’ after long. More words. More people. From ‘alma mater’ to ‘iconoclast’.

Words are yet too few to thank them all and tell them how happy every single word makes me. Looking out for more words. Or may be, just another word!