All Is Well!

I learned to love everything, my failures too, not because that it taught me something out of it but gave me some feed for my thought process to write. One such failure-like is scratching my head as if I want to put a hole in my head (some spot where it would not pain) and make it a vent for all such negative feels.  I’m searching for content so that my bloody brain would get consoled.  Holy-crap, consoling brain is so tough, it puts hell lot of questions and forgets it is the one responsible for getting answers for all those.  When there is hell lot of problems around me, my problems looks very big for me. 

 

“Follow your dreams” many told me, books taught me so I followed my dream but how do I tell all those who said “follow your dreams” that there are hell lot of signals in the city and every time I miss my dream in one or the other signal. 

                Everyday I wake up; I say, it’s going to be a good day, but finally the day sucks.  When I never bothered about anybody world looked very empty and when I cared about everybody world looked lovely but I bothered just about only one, I felt like ‘let the dooms day come’.  Expectations, suggestions, paranoids around me make me feel very down and I go very down to earth and sometimes I feel I can even go inside the earth. 

                When I thought, that  I need not prove ’I am good’ at least a few thought that I am good but when I want to prove that I am good, to one alone, the life becomes complicated.  Wandering mind and pondering hearts are really dangerous, it finally lands up in the place where you want to get out, but that will be the place you love the most and hurt to the most.  This is a good learning, if I go behind just one, the one will always go forward and you will always be back.  That’s fine what am I going to do going ahead of the one I love.

                Experiments, experiments and experiments thought out my life.  Every experiment sucked and I still didn’t stop doing experiments.  Nothing gave me excitement other than me thinking that I am doing what I love to do.  When I retrospect, I question myself “whether I have grown insane?” Every aspect, I filled with experiments, in my education, journeys, travels, relationships, quiet sometimes with death, martial arts, my good will, possessions, obsessions, sleep, sedatives, health, crucially I did experiments with my love and job.  And I went bankrupt in both. 

                It is said that ‘if something happens once will not happen again but if it’s twice, for sure the third time’.  And I succeeded in few things once and holy crap, it’s never happening again.  And all my failures, I do not have a count of it. 

Ok! Am I going to stop my experiments? No, never.

Why?  For x, y, z reasons that has became a part of my mannerism and attitude.  Or at least it my life, just one life, I do not want give chances of doing experiments with to anybody else, but me.

I could hear you say “Bloody, if you don’t change you will suck”. Hmm! Let me do some experiments with that too ;)  All is well.

Waiting for a return…

'My Chubby boy, I am waiting for you to come back from your astral travel.   You’re still at 4 in my mind' 

I know, before I continue I should tell you three things.  One, who is the boy I am talking about?  My cousin, who was 4 years old in 2005 and 4 even now. 4 years even now? Yes. Two, what is astral travel? It is believed, during we sleep, we can get out from the physical body and wander around this world in our astral body, and that’s why when we see some people we think “Oh! I saw this guy somewhere!” or when we go to some unknown place we say “I have seen this place already”.

Three, what made me write this? This could be a long answer.  It will be someone who will hurt you, whom you never thought of hurting or will never think of hurting.  It will be someone who hesitate you, whom you will never hesitate in your life, the one you want to live with.  It will be someone who will not look at you, whom you never ever want to keep your eyes out of them.  These are the ground rules of Love.  Okay, one such hesitation, hurt, which had had put me in melancholy which in turn made me eyes closed, silent in my train and eyes closed in silence resulted in nostalgia.


He has a peculiar name, numerologists and astrologist calculated hell lot of things and the latter gave him the starting letter and the former, the name.  Danusha – that's the name.  He is the guy who cheated the experience doctors and may be the God too.  When he was a fetus, doctors said his left leg is shorter than right but when he came to this world doctors didn’t believed their analysis sucked, and he was a perfect baby.  When he was growing, the naughtiest child I ever saw.  When he was 2.5 years I was playing with him.  I do not know that he was hungry.  I was holding him in arms and I was talking to someone.  Ouch! It was painful, he has bitten me in my chest, in my nipple.  Hmm, most painful happenings are our sweetest memories.


It was when he was 3 years, I took him and went around for a walk and stood in the entrance gate of my home, by then he started to speak, with his lovely voice.  When I was talking with him something, he suddenly he shouted at a pretty girl walking by the road, “Akka, Akka, My Anna” He said and kissed me.  She smiled at me and walked away.  Oh God! In a minute I was shocked but with that kiss he mesmerized me and I should say, that girl too.


Before he joined school, our family separated, and me and my boy too were separated a 25km.  He started going to school, and I heard that he had never ever hesitated to go to school or not even a day he cried.  Slowly he learnt to dial my landline number and sometimes immediately after coming from school he used to call our landline number to talk to me and my mom.  We were very happy about those moments he dialed by himself and his sweet voice.  It gave us Goosebumps, even now when I think about what he spoke.


To trust God, you should be a child and to be in love you should be childish.  His love! God! Even God in person cannot give.


He fell sick, when lakhs of currencies was sleeping, few hundred was spent for his viral fever (as said by doctor) and one day suddenly fever vanished, he was perfectly alright.  I heard from my aunt that, on that day, he was talking, talking and talking full day, kidding his mom, laughing, giggling.  And that was the day when I was in train, my mobile phone rang and I picked and I heard a voice telling he is no more, that was his last day, after his talking and kidding he went unconscious and has not come back.  I saw his rose body buried in the mud.  I never allowed him to play in the mud, but now I cannot stop mud playing with him.  What bull shit life, what holy-crap, god.  I lost faith; I lost faith in life and so-called God.  Though I regained my faith, whenever I think about my Danusha, I will have a second thought on believing God.


Few weeks back, after my visit to an orphanage, Roshini; we, all family went to a temple.  My uncle or Danusha’s father was sitting back and I was sitting next to the auto driver, he started talking about property and money et cetra.  I never had interest in listening to him, since after the death of Danusha.  As the auto speeded by thoughts traveled back to the days I played with my boy, a part of my soul, and the day we buried him, and suddenly another kid came into my mind, Magesh, who I saw in the orphanage, who was sick more than orphan, who reminded my boy.  Auto driver hard pressed the break and gave me shock to come out of my nostalgia.  Auto stopped, and I was shocked, I saw Danusha standing before the auto.  It took about 30 seconds to come out of the scene what I saw.  When I realized the reality, it was a small boy who was playing in the road stopped the auto to cross the road.


Everybody said, Danuha is dead when we buried him.  I don’t believe in death.  He left his body and he is in his astral travel.  And I am just waiting for him to come back to me, as my own boy.
Okay.  What is the relationship between the hesitation of someone and this nostalgic effect?  I do not want to tell what relationship, but, yes, there is a relation.

Do not be Human…

“The first defeat of the day starts in the morning when you postpone the time you wake up” a thought, which I read in facebook kindled me, made me woke up early in the morning today, I thought  I should delete this thought from my brain, Gosh, too tough to get up early in the morning.

Okay, so what happened as a result of me getting up early is, I caught a crowded train.  “Oh God, now because of a bloody thought I have to stand for 1hr” I thought.   Train speeded at 25km/hr; what non-sense measurement is this, called speed, 100km/hr is called as speed and even 10km/hr is also called speed.  Oh! There is another word called ‘fast’ and the same hypothesis applies for it too.  Okay forget it.  

After two three stations a couple got in and they stood next to me near the door.  Since I was totally immersed with my book I could not hear what they spoke each other.  But I could feel that she was bit aggressively talking about some family interim issues.  Her voice softened suddenly, She said, she was not able stand.  It took some time for me to take my eyes out of the book and observer that she is carrying.  She caught hold of her husband’s shoulder and leaned on his bosom.  Now, I could observer her pain because in 30 minutes standing, my back started hurting, so I could feel the pain of a woman who is carrying a baby carefully within her.  I could not control myself to see her painful face, so I moved and gave some space and asked her to move inside so that somebody will give her seat to sit.  She moved between the seats along with her husband’s hand in her hand. 

I was keen on who is goanna give seat for her and for my wonder nobody did so, even after seeing her pain.  “Bloody people, carrying the fetus of laziness in the brain” I thought.  She again whispered in her husband’s ears that she could not stand.  I could not shout at somebody to get up because we live in a bloody democratic, human-rights valued country and it’s their wish to get up or not to give seat.  I became restless and even thought of telling her husband why the hell you want her to get in to this train, why cannot you wait for few more minutes for the next.  But I stopped myself. 

Now, why do I say do not be human?  We Homo sapiens say we are supreme among the creations and name ourselves ‘rational-animal’.  May be not all are bad, and you “not-bad” people do not reflect the society.  And my dear rest of the ‘not-all’, do not be just humans, do not be just a rational-animal, raise up to a different level, sometimes you can even thinking of being a Mom, a Dad, a women carrying a little fetus, and why not you can even think in the shoes of God. 

Back to the scene:  few minutes train stopped in a station before the destination station, few Homo sapiens got down and a future mother got her seat and I am happy.

Do not be Just Humans.

-Sat

A Funny chat, with Mom

Today, early morning when I woke up, my clock ticked 09.15am.  

"Watch is wrong?" I thought

"No Man, you're right, its 09.15am" I said myself

Mom was around, busy cooking.  We are suppose to go out for some intra-family reason, so I got up had tea, brushed, bathed, got ready by 11.00am.Ya, ya pretty long time, but usually happens.

Ouff! Did I say 'had tea, brushed', fine, that was my habit, not my problem; Mom prepares tea before I get up. 

Dad got ready, and called an auto.  Meanwhile we are waiting for the auto, Mom started talking about something, something which I rarely hear and if I have to reply sometimes that would be a question which she will reply with another question.  

When Mom was talking, she stopped talking when she was talking about money, and said "yesterday, one of our ex-servent came to see me"

"Ok ma, so what?" I replied

"So nothing, her son has grown up now, he got a job it seems" she continued

"Oh! Good" I replied, this time without question.

"He is earning 9000 per month it seems" she continued,

"Hmm! Okay" even this time no question from my side,

"She said that her son, every month, without even opening the salary cover, hands over the nine thousands to her" Mom said "all nine thousands, and you?" she continued.

Now I got the point.  She wants to tell me that I am not giving my salary to her or for home.  Hmm, that's true I sometimes do not give my entire salary, I mean not even a part of it.  Reason behind is that my parents are not in a much need of money that I give.  So now I have to reply her, what should I say! My dear brain, give me some answer that will not make the situation no-serious. 

"Ma, is this is your problem? Simple ma,

From next month, for sure I will give you nine thousands in your hand, Okay!" I said

Everybody around laughed. Meanwhile auto came, talk diverted.

ssh! Great escape this time.

In the Marriage Market; I am expecting a recession

Retrospection; society is build up of moms, dads, brothers, sisters, so-called relatives, et cetra.  Down to earth, who understands the feel of a girl be it a mom, dad or anybody.  Marriage, the society looks it as selling living things in commodity market, where there is no ex-change of money for commodity, but commodity and money just for a ceremony called Marriage.  And every angels came to this world, has been considered as just a commodity.  I am expecting a recession in this non-sense market.

Marriages are decided in Heaven! Non-sense.

As part of the bloody ceremony in the stupid marriage market, a 6’ 2”guy came to see a girl; he gave different types of pose as if somebody is taking photo in SLR-Camera and facial expressions in flavors.   Went back home and said 'girl is short, and that is the reason I reject'.  ‘Bloody are you recruiting for the post of wife? Or do not you know this when you have seen her profile? Is that is her problem that you have grown too much?’  I even heard a human-oid saying “dowry is a non-taxable income”.  I need to tell him “Boss, dowry is a proof of your disability and do not tell this again else I might consider a complaint to Income-tax department”

My dear society, you hate love and lovers and sell your daughters in the name of marriage where exactly girls are cursed and money is prized. Let somebody change this pattern of ‘money-come-arranged’ marriage and shift to ‘love-cum-arranged’ marriage.  May be out of veil of pain I write this, seeing all my pretty angels prevailing in melancholy.  My dear girls come out you boxes, parents worth your love not you sacrifice to pain.  And my dear boys, thou we curse girls, we do hell lot of crazy things just for them; you need not show your handicapped nature in this marriage market, oh! Sorry this society doesn’t likes words like “handicapped”, let me put some society-jargon here – Different ability.

Aha! Kudos, you society.

Matter of mind..

Whenever I think about becoming a writer, some amazing writers makes me feel I am still a toddler.  And the language, whenever I miss grammar, when I am expressing something out of emotion and somebody points out  ‘you killed English there’, thou I wanted to tell them I am out of mind and not intentional, a bloody, sitting inside my conscious, subconscious says ‘you need not explain just express that is  enough’.

I was/is not a good @ voicing my ideas.  Be it in expressing my love, be it expression of my melancholy, be it expressing my friendship, be it expression my emotion, voicing sucked and the idea got stuck.  Group of living cells, living between my left and right ears kept wandering about hosting my ideas.  When reading became my habit and blends of books and writers amazed my thoughts, one day an instinct kindled me ‘go ahead blabber whatever comes to you mind and fill a web sheet’.  I turned myself to blogging.  What should I write? From where will the thoughts come?

I never had a thought of writing fictions, but to write you need a spark.  Where will you get it?  Ok, the spark I was searching was nowhere but in myself, my past, my life so far,   days I screwed.  What will happen if I add some fiction to it! Nothing will happen but nobody will believe.  Aha! So far I tried to prove myself to my mom, dad, sisters, sometimes my friends and lot many times to girls, that I am a good guy.  And sometimes I was successful.  Enough, what am I goanna gain by proving myself good.  Seventy to Eighty years of my own life, meanwhile I live, many will forget who I am and I will forget whom I tried to prove myself very good. So I promised, myself, if I write about myself, no Fictitious facts

 

I need not prove that I am good.   Just one amazing life to live.

Didn’t I have had vengeance? Yes I do have.  Didn’t I have fallen in love? Yes I did.  Didn’t I ditch somebody? For whatever the reason, finally, the  answer is yes.  Didn’t I have crush? Of course, yes.  Am I not in love second time? Yes I am.  Didn’t I have hate school and books? Obviously, yes even now.  

For whatever reason!  Speaking out mind makes life easier and I might not feel that I haven’t tried and if I could have, I might have got it.  I found scribbling out mind made a good vent even for a dormant mind, of course, mine.  Expressing thoughts, expressing craziness, expressing madness could look weird but that is a feel of wonderfulness. 

Wanna try really?  then you need to remove the mask!

Do it this way, one day: wear you favorite dress which could not sync with the air, but the one you love, an odd color combination.  Close your eyes and try to be daisy, the place where you felt like sleeping but controlled it, of course this should be your workstation.  Call somebody loud in the crowd, which you might have hesitated so far.  Go, say ‘Hi’ to someone you really love or like but ever talked.  Do few more crazy things you missed by your vanity and the so-called impression you have made so far. This one day you will love you to the core.  

Life may end in fraction of seconds, age may pass in months of the years and you will always hold a second thought that you didn’t do it.  Anything you do, be it crazy, will make you happy until you do not hurt others.  This is I believe, the only way to love yourself.  Love to be expressive.

You’re what you express. 

Happy Valentines Day!

I was walking on the platform in a railway station, I saw a pretty girl. Maroon Salwar, white shawl, Maroonish sandals, white ear rings. Wow! awesome looking, elegant and beauty in adjacent angle.

Hmm! Nice to look at.

While I was waiting for the train to come and looking at this girl in parallel; a small boy, could be in his five, ugly dress, torn shirt, and his trousers torn in place which it shouldn't have, walked to her.

I could not hear what he said to her, but his gestures. He tapped his stomach and showed his hands begging for money or something to eat. She gave a odd look at that small one.

After three four trials the boy bent down and touched her sandals; she moved away. Just to gain her smile, somebody standing near to the girl shouted at the small boy, he got frightened and moved away from her.

He went near another girl, this time he didn't bent down to touch her feet but repeated the same gestures. She looked not-bad, sweet, humble and kind; she searched something in her bag and took something and placed in his hands. The boy smiled and ran away.

Ouff! Why do I say this. Anyways, Happy Valentines Day.

Go on your knees; do not touch the feet.