Feeling the Feeling

A feeling is not just a come-and-go representation of what we think at the moment. A feeling is really a part of us that needs expression. Almost like the steam building up in a pressure cooker. There's a lot of it, and once it finds even the tiniest gap, the whistle goes off and the steam is let out in a huge burst. Okay, not huge, but you get what I mean. The resultant impact is a visual burst of steam, a squeaky whistle to go with and a bit of heat, and a pretty well cooked serving of dal or vegetable.

The same is with feelings, really. They come out in fits and starts after seeing an opportune time and there's so much too them that they fail to go unnoticed. They have some amount of impact or relativity with someone or the other who goes out to connect with them. Someone's looking at the various areas that the feeling exposes, and someone is looking at the product that the feeling creates. But to you, and solely to you, the feeling means something that is let out of your system. I bet even the pressure cooker looks forward to losing a bit of its steam.

Taking that forward, the reason we're actually okay with letting off this steam and are told not to bottle our feelings inside us is so that there is space for more! We have social and emotional experiences every moment, either conscious or unconscious. To keep it within us and not share what it meant to us or what feelings it arouses is to arrest its impact. Which is why we seek expression. Most of us do so by channelising it into a creative field. I write. and so do a lot of people. What we write is a literal expression of what we're thinking and what we're feeling.

Once the feeling escapes us, and I say escape because it really is trapped and has a lot of better things to do than sit around in a crevice of our mind, it ceases to live in us. It has found a happier place to be [just being polite here. I know how much some of us would rather just let it live inside, rent-free, if nothing else]. That doesn't of course mean that we won't feel something like that again. It means that the feeling we attached to it this time, will not come back for the next time. Its variants may always exist, but THAT feeling won't come back. Like the feeling when you eat chocolate after going on the longest crash diet ever! [3 days. true story.] Point is, that feeling has wandered off to connect with another individual, who would identify with the feeling and give it a new residence.

Now, I've had this experience, as have friends of mine, that they cannot connect with their written or expressed feelings like someone else can. If you read what I've written, full feeling intact, and you go through a wave of emotions and thoughts because of what I wrote, I may not be able to reconnect with my own written word. Something that came out of me. But that's because my mind has now given that space off to another set of feelings and doesn't feel the need to connect back with something that it housed for a long time before letting go. Trying to reverse time and re-feel the feeling is like trying to stuff the steam back into the pressure cooker. Trust me, it will not happen.

And so, at the end of this seemingly endless rant, I know for sure I've let out my feelings on feelings. Even though they may never come back to me, I know there's nothing to regret or want back here. I've felt it, harboured it, thought it through, been on a roller coaster with it, before finally saying good-bye. And I think we had a pretty good time, too. Its just that I don't think I can spend my life, or a large part of it, tied to one feeling just because it was mine at one point in time...

=D

The Storm of Creation

There's silence before
the storm descends
and silence creeps in after.
In the interlude,
everything is caught within
a stormy breaker and crafter.

It breaks the barriers of quiet,
tearing down the shroud
beneath which lie voices.
As shrieks and howls,
they escape their silent captor,
and they rejoice.

The storm surrounds me
and I, rapt by its beauty,
Am part of its destructive thrill
In the eye of the storm,
caught in a crossfire of thoughts,
I surrender to its will.

It takes me up,
blinds my conscience,
but leaves my creative spirit awake.
As I swish and tumble
in this unexpected rush,
there's more than sanity at stake.

The storm collapses
as do I,
sapped of energy and words.
Resultant broken restraints around,
I step into the light
to see the flighty thought-birds.

As I return to shelter,
past the ruins of
the storm's wild embrace,
I long for it to
enchant me again
with its creative grace...

[Image courtesy - Shiree Gilmore: Eye of the Storm]

Beating of the Retreat

Republic Day is quite the momentous occasion for our nation. 26th January marks, in layman terms, the birthday of our Indian Constitution. Its celebrated with much gusto and there are battalions and marching bands from all the 3 branches of the armed forces - the Navy, the Army and the Air Force. One also gets to see floats representing each state of the country, showing off their finest as part of the parade from Rashtrapati Bhavan to India Gate. Its quite magical looking, actually, to see a relatively small fraction of such a large population, all awe-struck, watch another relatively small fraction of our country's population perform in the country's honour. Considering how cold the Capital has been this year, the turnout was still huge, which is heartwarming to see from a tv screen telecast live by yours truly, DD National. To be absolutely honest is to be cliche` but I'll still say that it truly enhances one's patriotism, if it doesn't wake it briefly from its slumber. But seriously, it makes me a proud and happy Indian to see my country's constitution being given a birthday bash in such style!

I watch a considerable portion of the parade each year, its kind of hard to avoid it. But this year, I watched something new, something I haven't watched before, because I had no idea about it. Ignorance at its best, I tell you. So when my mum told me about this event called the Beating of the Retreat, that marks the end of the Republic Day celebrations for the year, I wanted to check it out. It is an hour and a half of musical and marching excellence by all the bands that play in the parade, playing various compositions by officers and marching in different formations that are only meant for one to marvel at. The bands come turn by turn, playing 4 or 5 pieces, marching in different directions to either make a flower, or a fortress, or stars in four corners! meanwhile, the camels and horses, with their riders, stand absolutely still, as if transfixed by the effect of the music. The coordination, the flourish with which the leaders twirl their staffs, and then throw them in the air and deftly catch them again, and the grand music completely take over your senses and you have no mind of taking your eyes off the tv screen. It ended with all the four bands coming forward and playing the best possible drum beats and wind instrument medleys I've ever heard. The conductors have such splendour on their faces, showing how happy and proud this makes them feel. As the bands officially retreated, after taking permission from the President and saluting the flag right before sundown, they played "Sare Jahan Se Achcha" which only brought tears of joy to my eyes.

The best moment of the entire event is when, just after the President is escorted to her residence, the whole of Rashtrapati Bhavan, the Parliament House and all the surrounding areas of importance are lit up with lights that shine brighter than the stars put together. Delhi never looked more beautiful, and I cannot wait for the day when I'll see all of it in the flesh, but for now, the image is forever vivid in my memory. Not only for its aesthetic beauty but also for another type of beauty, perhaps patriotically induced, that I can neither describe nor explain. Its like love, and after watching this, I truly fell in love with India all over again.

For those who watched it, lucky you. Really. You will understand what I say, because it takes that understanding to watch these displays year after year. If you haven't, luckily the chances are not lost yet. When its on next year, if nothing else, watch it to test whether my words make any sense. So, 1645 hrs, 29th January, 2012 - the date is set, and the countdown begins.

=D

Uninhibited...

I've always been a free-bird of sorts. Going wherever I want, doing what pleases me, and choosing to believe only what I think is believable. Its quite like the sand in a desert - changing face every now and then and refusing to settle, moved only by the gusts of wind that take with them all that they encounter. I've always been like a particle of sand in the wind. I cannot settle in one place, can't give it a rest once in a while. And complementary to that, I actually enjoy this freedom. But there are times when this freedom gets locked down and I get chained into confines that I cannot get out of. And for the most part, its all in the mind. My mind. The mind that is free, but also houses fear. Fear that buckles me down to my seat. Not in a grounding way, but in a restrictive sense. It renders me helpless without much to repair my state.

Think of a fly trapped in a glass jar. You can see its harrowed state. It bangs against the wall, flits about helplessly, clueless and tries mindlessly to escape. And then, after a rigorous struggle, it settles, not because its patiently anticipating release, but because it has lost. Lost the battle of survival over existence, freedom over captivity, vibrancy over faded hues. Imagine your thoughts, your expression trapped into such a jar, where everyone and everything can see you struggle but can't do much about it. You fight for what you believe in but you're rendered defenseless and the invincibility of your imagination shattered. That's pretty close to how anyone would feel when they're inhibited by their own boundaries, their own rules, their own 'what ifs'. And the bad news is that no one apart from our own person can open the jar lid and set us free.

This inhibition has slowly made its way into my mind too. It constricts the way I think, what I think, the way I write, what I write and most of all, who I am. I'm too scared of what the outside of the jar has got in store for me. Maybe a fly-swatter, waiting for me to escape so it can squish me. Maybe a repellent, waiting to smoke out even the last dregs of my zeal and zest to live out loud. Or just about anything that could shoot me down because I dared to try and find a way out of a jar that I was trapped in. Its more destructive than anything really, because it takes em away from what I truly love being - a grain of sand floating in the wind, care-free.

Maybe if I gathered all my energies, and resolved to escape, I'd probably break my jar as a way out by just banging into it. Who cares what's really outside the jar? As long as I have nothing holding me back, I can't be worried about the way forward. If only I can still trust the wind as much as I did and not wonder about where I'd be lost, I'd know for sure that there's nothing that can make my thought vulnerable to the forces waiting to shatter my imagination's invincible spirit. And then maybe, I'd soar higher than I did before, not because the wind lifted me beyond what it did before, but because this time, I'd do anything and everything to avoid another jar to get trapped into. And now, at the end of this, I'm convinced I'm flying high, because I have reason enough to believe and to live, the way I choose.

Love, Peace and Freedom to All...

=D

There comes a time, when life as we know it ends. I heard something to that effect in a movie once. it kind of stuck with me. not because of any special significance, but because i'd kept it on the back burner for this long to sort of try and uncover what that line truly meant to me. I think i finally have an answer.

There are times when the whole world just stops and then, when it restarts after that interlude, you sort of wonder where the time flew, what chanced, where you are now and what the future is. that uncertainty, where you don't know where your life is going, is where the way you knew life has just come to an end.

when you fight, the fight leaves you disoriented for God knows how long. you lose track of where the words went, what each said to the other, who makes it up now, and why you fought in the first place. that just happened to me a few weeks ago and i still cannot let it go. i'm at an utter loss for words, for thoughts and for niceness even, but all without cause. that leaves me blank and i'm probably standing on the dividing line between life as i know it and nothing. i think i'd rather just stay on this line than move anywhere from here. going back doesn't look like an option and moving into nothingness is not something i prefer. probably this is also an end in itself - the end of innocence. the innocence that it'll all be alright someday. the innocence that we're always going to remain friends. maybe that doesn't need to happen all the time. maybe it never happens.

i'm growing up. i kind of have been for a while but this time its a tad bit different and a wee bit difficult. i'm at the threshold of adulthood and childhood. of school and college. of success and failure. and to be honest, i'm scared. not because i may not get what i want or may not be able to achieve my targets, although that is fearful. but i'm scared of the thought that there's a lot i'm going to have to leave behind in the bargain - my school, my friends, my house and even a bit of my edginess. its going to be that place called "the real world out there" that i'll officially gain an entry into. here's truly where life as i know it is ending, and the countdown has begun. maybe i'm ready, maybe i'm not. maybe i'll manage, maybe i won't. but the point is, its going to be over, and i cannot force myself back. here, going back from this line isn't even possible. its an abyss back there. its a one-way escalator that i've got to climb. and lets hope to God that the climb is worth it.

there's no controlling love, affection, hate, loathing. they come and go as they please and sometimes stick around longer than one would like. there's no escape and there's absolutely no turning back. there's tonnes of regrets though. i think the day that you start loving or stop hating a person, or begin loathing and end being affectionate towards someone does life really alter its course. it takes the train to a whole new platform altogether. some of us like being on this trip, others are wondering what we're doing with a ticket in our hands. at this point, i'm liking the trip but i can't quite see the platform. i think my train's still in that dark, deep tunnel, or its still cruising in the night-time through a forest, with no way for me to look out the window and place myself somewhere, for some peace of mind. its tough for someone as impatient as me to sort of deal with this sea of darkness, but i guess that when i reach the platform in the morning, the sun will be out to greet me and i'll probably know where i landed up. for now, the anticipation could either kill me or lull me to sleep. i guess i'll choose the latter. its a happy place to be in, and i do like surprises. again, lets just hope to God that the train doesn't get derailed and push me down another track that i have no clue of. the wait is just too long already...

conclusively, at this point in time, life as i know it is ending in more ways than one. i finally know what those words mean, to me at least. there are boundaries i might be crossing and there are thresholds i'm yet to cross. however odd the circumstances, at this point, all i can think of is, "between dark and day, and night and light, the interim is always confusingly beautiful." i thus leave you, wondering and wandering, wherever you may choose to be.

=D

Strike!

I think we've all heard our adults say that there are lessons to be learned in the smaller things of life. That's sort of what happened to me last week. Towards the close of possibly the best week I've ever had, my new-found friends and I went bowling in the evening, in Bangalore, where I was at the time of this revelation. As the game progressed and I was hypnotized by the sights and sounds of the bowling arena, I realised that bowling was a lot like our lives.

There's a lot of players in our alleys. They're all people we know. Some are stronger, some are slightly weaker and some are just downright surprises. The spirit of competition just happens to creep in even among the closest of friends. Some have the skill and the technique set, some struggle. Its like chasing goals in our lives. Some of us have a set plan about how, where, what and when. Some of us just go with the flow and take each chance as it comes. While some others among us, who look like they're here for the fun of it, actually have a lot of aces up their sleeves.

We've all got the same target ahead of us - maximum points, and hopefully strikes on as many turns as possible. Our approach is really what makes the difference. Some of us take the heavier ball, for more impact. Some of us prefer the lighter one, easier to maneuver. A sufficient number of us even go by colour! Some bowl with a quick pace, some as slow as possible and some just try different tricks with the ball! The same is with our lives, no? We've all got success as the ultimate objective but everyone takes a different route altogether, whatever works!

Some of us have the advantage of using the gutter blockers. But we don't always get that advantage and after a while, we don't need buffers. We learn to perfect our aim. One cannot always have something to fall back on. Though most attempts may land one into the gutters time and again, we have those lucky times where it manages to stay on course!

We've got 10 chances to get a decent enough score, as compared to the others. Close enough to this one, but definitely above that one! Some of us knock down a good number of pins each time, some struggle with the one's and two's. That's the same kind of equation we've got in our daily lives. We've got multiple opportunities to achieve certain targets, hoping that we do ourselves some good in the process. The point is, chances do exist and its up to us to try and make an improvement with each chance. Maybe a different approach, a different perspective or a just a chance you might want to take.

The thing that I found really cool was that during the game, there were some of us that actually stepped up to help the others. "Maybe if you tried a different ball" or "Wait!!!!!!! Don't twist your hand like THAT!" And that is really what makes the difference. Mentors are really important. Constructive criticism actually works if taken well. And you know the best part? Whenever someone finished a chance, everyone cheered for their effort, regardless of the end result. So it was at Wizkids. Despite what position we finished at, despite who got the title, we all cheered for each other, we all appreciated each other. Just because we were all on equal footing! We're all Awesome, We're all Talented, We're All WIZKIDS!

At the end of an event like Wizkids, and at the end of a fun-filled bowling session, there was a lot of learning to take back home with us. Maybe I read too much into things. Maybe I've gotten all too philosophical with this one. But maybe that's really what this experience did to me. And I loved every bit of it!

=D

Moving On?

It so happens that I have a theory about everything. And I mean EVERY single thing. And there's this one particular thing that I've been thinking about since who knows when and who knows why. Its this simple 2 word term called - moving on.

Heard it before? I bet you have. Anyone who's ever had anything - right from a toy to a relationship - will know what being told to move on means. So basically moving on applies to everyone. If there's a moment of sheer excitement you cannot stop gushing about, you're crudely told to get a move on. If there's a precious love you've lost, you've just got to move on. They didn't deserve you anyway. If there is someone in your life who passed away, you have to move on. And so on and so forth. But is moving on that important? Or that easy? Or is it doable at all?

Firstly, lets basically wrap our brains around this concept and the rationale behind the usage of these blessed words. The reason why someone would ask you to move on or why one would coax oneself to move on, is that the subject in question will no longer have bearing on your life like they did. The past is gone and there is no point lingering in the past when there's an urgent present and a glorious future craving your attention. The subject either causes you pain, or your joy due to that subject gives someone else hell. Therefore it needs to be pushed out of consciousness. So you're simply asked to proceed further and maintain a platonic state of sorts when the subject is raised again.

My theory is as follows - no matter how much you try, whatever you do, whoever you talk to, you can NEVER move on. Ever. Whatever it is. Whether it concerns your favourite dress that no longer fits or a person who isn't on the same page anymore. Just because its out of consciousness, doesn't mean it never existed. Just because it caused you pain, doesn't mean it never caused you joy. Just because it will have no consequence hereon, doesn't mean that it never did.

When you move on, you negate the influence, whatever kind, of the subject on your life. It is not acceptance, it is a type of detachment from the subject. And when you begin to detach yourself from quite a few things, you need to know that there's probably nothing left for you to attach yourself to. The subject was, is and will remain part of your life, and nothing can change or diffuse that. If you don't like a chapter in the book, that doesn't mean that the chapter was not the end of or the start of something that you enjoyed.

Point being, it is easier said than done, this moving on business. There's lots of things I've had to go through and I may regret them and they probably don't exist anymore, but they have had an effect on me. They make me who I am. For me, moving on implies making that part of me impersonal. And if there is a part of me that I doesn't feel personal anymore, then I've lost that forever.

More importantly, I believe that you needn't ever move on. That does definitely NOT imply that you continue to moon over it. It means that you need to understand the change it has brought in you and constantly learn something from it each day. It is only experience that can teach us lessons in life and you cannot learn with a slate that you're continually cleaning. Agreed there is resentment, regret, displeasure and much more attached with the loss that usually triggers this urge to move on, but that cannot and should not overshadow the many reasons that made the subject important to you in the first place.

Last word in, move on but only in a direction that will let you grow and let you take your important baggage with you, because you'd be nothing without it.

=D