The stage

I'm not what you'd typically call the die-hard Shakespeare fan. I barely know his work, although that doesn't mean that I wouldn't like to. But here are a few lines I've always liked. Sure, they're quoted all over the place. But they're simple and not to mention, true, if you really think about it.

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.

Theatre will always be something that I love for many reasons- but one of the main ones is that it mimics life in an unbelievable way. It's far more challenging than a movie, if you ask me- there are no re-takes in theatre. Just like there aren't re-takes in life. Theatre cuts out the fluff- good plays usually have people who can act, and I mean REALLY act. Sets and lighting and music suddenly seem to matter so much more. Dialogue takes central focus in theatre- while a lot of people have forgotten what a screenplay really is. Don't get me wrong, I love movies. Film-makers are artists as much as anyone. But theatre..will always be theatre. It'll always have that edge. That's where it all begins and ends.

This was a good friday night. I might be totally different from a lot of people, but I'm going to say it- I'll very gladly and happily watch a play, every friday night, for the rest of my life and be thrilled about it. Really.

Besides, there's always saturday for the other stuff.

That feb 14th post

Surprise, surprise. I'm actually writing a Valentine's day post! Will wonders never cease?! No, this is not about "Love in the air" getting to me. Surprisingly, this day has been less in-my-face this year, and I'm happy for that. I guess a lot of people feel the same way- it's badly over-hyped. But, love is love, and it should be respected and celebrated and written about, even, and hence, my two cents.

We've all ( or hopefully will) loved people, different kinds of people. In all of that, sometimes I feel like loving ourselves is, in fact, the more challenging thing to do. It isn't easy, you know, being annoyed or angry with yourself, when you mess up. Who will you take it out on? Hmm. Exactly.

A lot of people tell me that they love themselves, well and truly. I don't think I really buy that. Maybe they do, maybe they don't. A lot of people have also told me in sheer confidence that they really hate themselves sometimes. So what am I to conclude, really? With all of that and personal experience (ahem!), I think that sometimes you really love yourself, and I mean REALLY love yourself. When you get a new snazzy haircut, or sometimes when you look in the mirror, when you do silly things that only you can do, when you do great things, when you do things you love, when you're with people you love. But there are times when you
hate yourself, I know I do. Everytime I mess up, everytime I fall short of my own expectations. The "What was I thinking" feeling. The "Why am I like this" feeling.
It's the ultimate love-hate relationship, what I have with me. I dig me and I'm my own biggest critic. Maybe you're like that, too.

So what can people like me do? Try and love ourselves a lot more than we hate ourselves, for starters. I don't make formal resolutions, ever, but this is one of the things I've always wanted to work at. It's easy to love yourself for the amazing things that make you you. It's a lot harder to love yourself for the flaws, the creases, the wrinkles, the pimples and the mistakes you've made. But those are the things that really make us human, the fact that all our awesomeness can be wrong, so VERY wrong, sometimes.

Happy Valentine's day, everyone! I'm going to try and cut myself some slack a lot more from now on. You should, too. That means a lot more to me than pink, red, heart-shaped anything and candy ever will. Wait a minute- actually, I'm a fan of candy any day of the year.

one two, Change

Somewhere between my second elneer and that bar of twix, I realised that I've changed.

What are we, really?
Are we what we like? Who we like? What we don't like?
Worse, who we don't like?

If you knew me well enough many years ago, I can easily tell you that you probably don't know me at all now. No offense, though. It only means that you can make a whole new friend without being judged. It's true, really.

Because I'm changing at lightspeed, and no one can keep up with that, not even me.

I used to think that I know what's good for me. Clearly, that is one of my biggest *ahem* flaws. *more ahem*. yes, I have flaws and so do you. You think that twenty-something years of existence would've taught you better, but here are some very conflicting things that I'm starting to discover- We change, rapidly and frequently. We also, essentially, stay the same. I know you read that again and went- Let's get off this nutcase's blog. But, it's true. So what determines what changes and what doesn't? Genes? Probably. Upbringing? Probably. Friends? Maybe. Who knows? Uh-huh.

Which would explain why I'm starting to glug down elneer like my entire family always does, why biscuit-chocolate combinations are my family's favourite, why we all love candy. Which would explain why the smell of home cooking on the streets of India is something I'll never get sick of. Which explains why my friends know that even though I probably hate purple now and love army-tank green, buying me blue or black is a relatively safe bet.
Which is why I'll never appreciate all kinds of perfume. And never bother looking at page-3 photographs unless I know someone I know is in them. And go to sleep late everyday knowing that I should sleep earlier.

Which is why, I don't think i'll ever know what's really good for me and what isn't.

Which is why I'll keep writing these senseless bitlets of pointless information just so moonlight will find its way into my room.

The weather changes really fast in the tropics, they say. You'd better keep up.

Rolling

Stutter, Sputter. That morning cup of milk. Hurried gulps and buttons pressed. Thumb Impressions. Songs I hear everyday. To wash out the other sounds. Bite me, on the way. And yes, I'm still going to need coffee. Sputter, sputter. Blinding lights. That's what air looks like on the outside. Shampoo, rains, drains and musk all rolled into one. Passively, but only for now. Excitement in the air. That you just can't catch. Is someone watching? Doesn't matter. Messages. Interruptions. Interruptions. White electronic canvas. No watch. No time. Fast forward. Faster. Beeps. Sunshine. Stark contrast. Musty. Ladles and spoons. Smile. Clank. Why did I say that? Rethink. Analyse. Assess till my mind hurts. You really should smile all the time. and What is that smell? Never leaves. Tic tac toe. breathmint. Chills. hot air. Wash, dry, sanitize. Serve. One line. Too unpredictable. WHY? Can't stop. Cookies. Cream. Sugar. Yesterday. The corner of the fridge. Around the corner. Upstairs, downstairs. Not good enough. Tick, tock. it's all relative. jealousy. Black and white. The smell-whiff mix. Why, why.
hours. days. minutes. not years. last chance. first. no. your way. if you leave. cackle, cackle. Ringing peals of laughter. efficiency. Try. Why try. Differences between surprises and shocks. Realizations. suppressed. Opinionated. Who isn't? Bothered. Who is? Fading lights. Was this supposed to happen? starlights and smoke and haze and wind and light. Lightspeed. Three. Two. One. Reality check. And that, too, will fade. but that, shouldn't. Waiting in line. Where's the exit sign? Stand up. Shut up. Rewind.

The christmas post

There's something about Christmas which I love. I can't put my finger on it, and we don't celebrate it, so it's not like I have family celebrations or gifts or anything. But, Christmas is not just a festivity- I think it's a feeling. You have to hand it to the people of yore- they certainly picked a really good time for Christmas. Or was the calendar based on this day? Ah, well, nevermind. The point being that end-of-the-year festivities are what bring about that "cheer" that everyone talks about. Christmas, followed by what atleast feels like christmas holidays followed by the new year. Two 3-day weekends in a row. Ah. I feel good.

So, what am I doing these three GLORIOUS holidays? I don't really know. But, that's kind of the beauty of it. For starters, I slept in, and I mean, really really slept in, because I've just napped for eleven hours. Yes. ELEVEN. Boy, does that feel good. Sleep really is phenomenal. See, that's the thing about this season, you appreciate simple yet essential things, like sleep, food, and people.

I'm also going to learn how to make chocolate fudge today from friends (Hey, it is christmas day, right? This day calls for goodies.) Tomorrow I'm going to watch 3 Idiots. And I didn't even have to plan anything! Oh, how I love it when others do the planning. This is sweet. I didn't get to go to a christmas party, but I am going for a party tomorrow, and it feels like a christmas party. So, I'm happy.

Also, I love carols and here is one of my favourite carols, mainly because it's usually sung very fast and is really zippy and peppy and all that.

This is Christmas season
so there isn't any reason
we can't dance the Christmas polka

Hear sleighbells ringing
everybody's singing
dancing the Christmas polka

Christmas trees and holly
make everyone so jolly
and love just fills the air

It's a wonderful world
for a boy and a girl
while dancing the Christmas polka

Have an amazing holiday season, folks.

All hail John Mayer

Why is it not my time?
What is there more to learn?
Shed this skin I've been tripping in
Never to quite return

Yes, I'm grounded
Got my wings clipped
I'm surrounded by
All this pavement
Guess I'll circle
While I'm waiting
For my fuse to dry

Someday I'll fly
Someday I'll soar
Someday I'll be so damn much more
Cause I'm bigger than my body gives me credit for

Bigger Belief

Irrational Belief can be a strange thing. I was first exposed to it in college, no, wait, first exposed to it when I was an infant, when I started believing in god. Why? Because mummy and daddy believe in god. Parents fold their children's hands in prayer, tell them to close their eyes, tell them to pray. Why? Because children don't know any better? Because that's the best way? Because that's the easiest way?
or because that's the accepted way?

Either way, that was my first irrational belief. No proof, no questions asked. God was everywhere, almighty, powerful. God was perennial Indian Santa- he always knew if you were good or bad. God, in that way was he and she, child and adult, good and bad karma- all rolled into one magnificent mural of wonderment and power. God was synonymous with destiny and fate. Praying to him was like praying to yourself, asking for you to find the strength to do the things you wanted to do, and let's face it, it's easier, at that age, to ask someone else for things than yourself. Right? Right.

This went on for a while, until life made me refine that belief. I don't believe in idol-worship, I think organized religion tends to lose its purpose, I don't believe that there is just one way to pray or one place to pray. I know I've prayed my lungs out in bathrooms, bed, at window sills and a LOT in moving vehicles. I hope when I climb stairs. I dream when I walk.
I wish when I sit. It's all the time. I wouldn't exist if I didn't believe that good things have a place in our lives.

But after college, I've started to believe in irrational belief not just because I'm used to it, but because I've actually seen it work. I've to thank a lot of people for this, but for all her never-say-die category effort, this is because of you, Silverstreak. There have been times when I've irrationally believed something to be possible. With absolutely no pointers, not even a breeze blowing in that direction.

When every little thing tells me it's the other thing, I've believed because I've wanted it. Truly, truly wanted it. And I've got it, too. How, you ask? hey, if I knew, I wouldn't just be writing a blog post, I'd be writing a book.

So yes, contrary to my previous ranting posts, I'm not stopping. Not now, anyway.

Everything happens for a reason, people say. Well, I've reasons to believe that everything happens. It has to. Not because of what I've done to deserve it, but because of the belief in what I will do, once I get it.