Anais Nin

“We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations.”
― Anaïs Nin

Amused

Sometimes you get appreciated for making unnecessary changes to irrelevant things :-)

Life Away From Home

Living away from home in a different culture, looking after yourself and making your own decisions…. Helps you explore your limitations. You learn how far you are capable of pushing and how far is far enough. I suppose it helps a person grow and develop a wider and perhaps a different perspective to life and the world.

I have come to dislike the word "Sorry". A very strong dislike, I must add !

Anais Nin

Someone gifted me a volume of my fav Anais Nin's Diary as a farewell gift..I'm moved by the gesture :) I can never tire of reading Anais Nin..

“You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book… or you take a trip… and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death. Some never awaken.”

Anais Nin.

Countdown

The countdown begins. 18 more days of Pune. Am I happy ? Sad ? I have no idea. All I know is that life is not over. The curtains are drawn. But it's for the preparation of the next stage.

Rain

I love rain.I love the smell of wet sand..and most of all I love mornings after a rain..It just sort of fills me..until I overflow :)

The Wow Factor

Life is so regimented, so organized and yet so mechanical. I know what I want - the WOW factor. The problem is, it doesn't exist.

Re-entry

It feels like a years since blogger has been a part of my everyday life. No, I've not out-grown it and neither have I been blogging elsewhere. It's just that there has been nothing to say :)

I am experiencing a new awakening of the desire to say things, relevant or not and this is the place where I feel most comfortable about saying. So, do I have anything to say today? Maybe, maybe not!

Let's hope tomorrow brings something worthwhile to say.

Musafir Hoon Yaaron..

The last few years have seen me shifting from hometown to Jaipur to Ahmedabad to Lonavla to Pune..not to mention the places I've lived at abroad as a child. I've learnt not to leave any roots behind.. for if I do..the transition from one place to another would become very very difficult. Somehow I can relate to this song by Gulzar Sahab :

मुसाफ़िर हूँ मैं यारों

ना घर है ना ठिकाना

मुझे चलते जाना है, बस, चलते जाना

एक राह रुक गई, तो और जुड़ गई

मैं मुड़ा तो साथ-साथ, राह मुड़ गई

हवा के परों पे, मेरा आशियाना

दिन ने हाथ थाम के, इधर बिठा लिया

रात ने इशारे से, उधर बुला लिया

सुबह से शाम से मेरा, दोस्ताना

A Life of Regrets

Sometimes its important in life to be selfish enough to fulfill your dreams and ambitions.. and not give it up for the supposed happiness of those you care most about. Because life does not offer you opportunities each time and most often we live a life of regrets which does not really add to the happiness of our loved ones or ourselves.

Murammat Muqaddar Ki Kardo Maula..

Sometimes I wish I had a garden. Maintaining it would have been the perfect project for myself. Physically, psychologically, metaphorically...clear away the old debris..prune off the dead branches...rejuvenate the soil...plant new...with a hopeful eye to the future. Resurrection, rebirth, a fresh start :)

Untitles

Where does insecurity stem from? I'm afraid I'll lose the people I love. I'm afraid they'll stop loving me. I'm afraid they'll see that I'm not as smart or witty or accomplished or nice or fun as they think. I'm also afraid that I'll find out that they are not as much of what I think they are.

Mother Teresa said, "When we start judging, we stop loving." And who would know more about loving than she did?

Choices

All we have is a choice.

And sometimes,

The choice you make 

between hating and forgiving

Could become

The story of your life.

Nomad

I watch myself move

From place to place, leaving footprints

That gradually disappear

Languages - learned and unlearned

In a span of 43 years,

Leaving only images

In the form of memories and of old photos.

And even those images fade, lost

Somewhere between my growing up

From a child to this quiet wary adult

Tired of being redefined

Tired of dropping one identity after another

Losing my originality and shine

Solitude

Sometimes...

Solitude scares me.

Not because I am afraid 

Of being alone, me and I,

But because 

I inadvertently allow me 

To admit to myself 

that I like it much, too much.

Are You Happy Now World ?

I know I have changed. I can see it. Feel it. I am Conscious about it. Don’t like it. Yet letting it happen to me.
To survive, I have made my soul change too now. Harsh words. Abuses. Rudeness. Shrewdness. Things I have never known. Things I have never done. Things I do now. Just to survive. My simple background. My simple upbringing. My manners. My endurance, all went for a toss. I learnt it all from you. I am now, one of you.

The Ups & Downs

These days, life just seems like a series of 'ups' and 'downs', which sometimes follow each other far too quickly for me to keep up.
The 'downs' tire me..the 'ups' - even more so.

When did happiness become something you had to work for? When did happiness become something you had to bend over backwards to earn? When did happiness start to cost you peace of mind?
When I think back to my days in Port Moresby, a part of me inwardly weeps for those days.

Just Like That

I want to cry. To weep bitterly, to let the imprisoned tears be finally free - let them escape and through them somehow find my own sense of relief, of freedom. Free myself of this choking feeling, free myself of this burden which I feel I have been carrying around since forever. I have no apparent reason to cry but since when have tears asked for a reason? The agony of tears is a secret they guard well. 

Untitled

I have grown. A part of me has been irrevocably lost over the past two years. And a part of me grieves it. Some of me believes I am still the child I was, deep down. I'm not. I do not have the time nor the solitude to make amends to myself