Tag Archives: LOVE

Love lived here once…

Love lived here once,

and now there are charred remains

Yes, there are heartbeats

and smiling at cute boys

Then there are memories

that flash across

rather strongly

and tell you never to be the same.

But,

Healing happens

in its own time

and when it does

it surprises you with

the softest touch and a

long lasting giggle.

It is never too late to

have found blood

running in your veins,

yelling out to the world,

I have healed.

 

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Late One Night…

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Late one night, about six months ago, I was bored. My friend in America was bored himself. So we just started talking in fiction. I managed to create a little story including all our chats. I rarely write fiction. The story includes all the parts of our chats only. SO this was basically a conversation that ended up into a story.

London is really cold this year. Well, we are known to have blue weather for chunk of the year, but this time it is relatively colder. As I drive down the London Bridge, it is the season’s first snow. The city looks white. And the snow sparkles as lights from the buildings reflect upon the shiny surface. I see two silhouettes in the thick early morning fog walking on the other side of the bridge. I park my little car on the side as I try to get a clearer look. I try clearing the mist off the windshield to get a better look at the figures in the distance.

The first snow can be slushy and slippery and I decide to walk  towards them. As they get to this side of the bridge, I realize it is none other than Mr. Hopkins and his niece.Hopkins was a master of creating the most exquisite perfumes and people from all over Europe came to buy his creations. Celebrities, the rich and the famous, everybody was mesmerized by Hopkins and the fragrances he created. His little shop boasted of these moments from his career. Little frames that were now fading held pictures of Hopkins and his rich elite clientele smiling and beaming holding his creations in little glass bottles. The highlight of his career as a perfume maker was none other than when the Queen herself ordered his very special Moroccan Rose fragrance.

My earliest memories of Hopkins were of visiting his little store in the lane right next to Harrods with my grandfather when I was a child. My grandfather was a really famous wrestler and would wear a new fragrance each time he had a fight. Mr. Hopkins, a great friend of my grandfather, always had an exquisite range of fragrances ready well in advance that he created just for his friend.  My grandfather was extravagant in his ways and of course wined and dined with the best of the crowd. But Mr. Hopkins was one man who knew him for real. They grew up together. And the differences in their lives never distanced them. I cannot recall my last meeting with Mr. Hopkins, that’s how long ago it was.

Those memories urged me to say Hello to Mr. Hopkins. And of course, his niece was popular so there could have been no better reason to get a chance to see her. Margaret was talking about her. I am yet to meet her after she moved into town from Leeds. Maybe I could ask her to join me at Finnegan’s for wine tonight. As I was lost in my thoughts, I completely missed on closing my car’s door. That’s when it happened. Charlie, my brown mastiff jumped off the car and started running in the other direction.

Yes, Not again. Charlie was cute, but terribly disobedient and often been caught by the neighbors in their yards chasing around their cats. I have had to pay hundred of pounds in getting him trained to become sociable, but I guess Charlie had his own ways. After all he was a British dog. Strong and yes, stubborn, but everybody loved him. As I tried looking for Charlie, I heard a loud splash in the water on the other side of the bridge. I hurried to the edge, worried and realized that it was an old man who was throwing stones in the water. As I look for Charlie, the homeless guy asks for some money. “It is Christmas. Leave me a gift, Jesus will praise you.”

I rush to the car and pull out a doll with a missing limb. My fourth ex-girlfriend Nina gave me that doll. One day I randomly lost interest in her. Charlie was irritating me and I tore a limb out to make him a toy. Nina, she was caring, loving and maybe that’s why I never paid enough attention to her. I wanted to discard the stuff she gave me for a while now, but for some vague reason it never happened. Our brief time together was casual and fun. Yes, that limb is now Charlie’s toy at home. Just as I start thinking about the past, Charlie rushes into the car from somewhere. I leave him in the car and start walking towards the perfume store. The early morning traffic has created hustle bustle and of course I can feel the holiday season in the air. Mr. Hopkins and his niece are chattering with a lady in the store. I can’t really see his niece’s face through the glass. I am about to enter the store and she turns around to bill the products. And that is when I see her. Nina.

Value Yourself. Indulge in Yourself. Be Happy

So I read this somewhere and it pretty much made sense to me. “If you do not value yourself, then don’t expect anyone else to calculate it for you.” 

Over the last two and half years, I have come to realise that sometimes we end up forgetting who we are, what we want and where we would like to be in our life, especially when we are in a relationship. But the flip side of the exact thing is that when you have lived with someone you will learn innumerable things about life, reactions, emotions and most importantly co-existing.

My experiences have taught me several things. I have learnt not to overreact in situations when they are not in my control. I have learnt that there is this certain ‘right of the other person’ and a space in their life that you cannot invade no matter how hard you try. It will only leave you with bitter fights, arguments and lack of your own space in the entire deal. I also learnt how when you are two people together, you may still have your own life. Everything does not necessarily need to be ‘OURS’ or everything does not necessarily need to be done ‘TOGETHER’. You can find beauty is staying away certain evenings. I have learnt that you need to divide your time and your heart and invest in innumerable things that matter to you and other people you love. That does not necessarily mean that you love the other person any lesser or that you do not have any interest in them anymore.

But, the biggest lesson I ever learnt from my past was, “NEVER EVER FEEL LIKE YOU DESERVE LESS“. What I learnt was that ‘INDULGE in YOURSELF‘ and do not at any point feel ashamed about it. That is the biggest lesson we can learn from men. They are constantly indulging in themselves. They treat themselves like kings, they love what they do and they follow their passion. They do not shy away from making themselves a priority and they enjoy every bit of it. This leads them to be happier and in turn, they spread this happiness around. I rarely find male friends whining or cribbing about little issues. They love themselves and they are so damn right about it. They love others better because they are happy people.

It is important to love yourself. It cannot get clearer than this. People come and go. Some stay back for a lifetime. Some don’t. Better people come along and love you more than what you ever expected. But through it all, YOU are one person who will stay with YOU. You better love YOURSELF darling, because if you are not, then you are not going to be loved back and you are going to have a sad heart.

Hopefully, I am going to carry this lesson with me for a lifetime. Sometimes people around me might think I am selfish. Sometimes they may think I am disconnected. But really it is not about being selfish. We were not meant to be connected and unhappy. We are meant to connect to other loved ones and be happy. We make connections, get into relationships to be happy. And the more we are ourselves, the happier we will be.

Ephemeral, just like soft bubbles

 

Have you ever noticed how everything is suddenly so short lived around us? How come we don’t spend hours sitting at a coffee shop with friends, endless conversations and innumerable cups of hot cappuccino, pearls of laughter, leg- pulling and reminiscing old memories. When did these short gaps of talking end up being mere comparisons of who achieved what and who traveled where? Savings are no longer discussed openly. How come it was easier to talk to your friends when you were broke and had no money? A time when savings never existed and when debit and credit were mere words.

 

How come we don’t have long dinners that bring families together? The short, formal, sit-downs – do they satisfy people? I am sure they want those long evenings, with families meeting, drinking in abundance and laughing over childhood stories. Sagas covering decades of life – lived, experienced and innumerable incidents that have now met with blurred vision, old soft skin. Wrinkles laced with years of stories, tales of love, people and sorrow. What makes it so difficult to invest emotionally today? How come family events are now divided, making you simply, just another guest? 

 

When did work goals become so abrupt? When did deadlines that lasted weeks in the past end up being measured in hours? How come we don’t have those long leisurely weekends? Where did all the free time go away? When did it become so difficult to balance it all out?

 

How can we expect our emotions to sustain when we don’t invest enough time doing things that matter or spend time with people we love? Our emotions are equally short-lived, like waves, violent, loud and deep and still just like waves, short, subtle and dead when it reaches the shore. Extreme isn’t it?

 

I always feel that we will be a lonely generation. Some people merely call me cynical. Some blame it on
my past. Some never respond. Some of us realize it; some of us don’t bother to think about it because we are busy. We are looking for our goals, our aim, the perfect partner, the truth, the purpose. Some of us find it. Some of us just live with what life throws at us. Short lived love, short lived jobs, short lived purpose.

 

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We are nothing but ephemeral. Like soft bubbles. Here, and then gone away.

 

Chicken marinated in basil and love!

She was choosing the chicken pieces from the chicken and basil tomato salad bowl quietly at a slow pace. Every little thing she served herself was then served in another plate, in either the same or more quantity. Her partner and she were occupying the smallest and the quietest corner table they could have found at the spacious buffet restaurant at Marriot. The place was bubbling with energy, people sharing conversations over food, children running around the dessert servings, waiters serving portions of mixed Indian breads.

 

As my friends and myself carried on with our conversations, gorging on food and desserts, laughing over silliness of random people, I would, catch a glimpse of her every now and then. It would surprise me that she would spend so much energy in serving two portions every single time from each laid table.  Her face had a calmness that is difficult to explain. She had small brown eyes and every single time she looked up, she would smile back instantly. It was like she was answering all my questions.  I was at that point just unable to read them. Her grey hair was witness to all these years of experiences she had gathered.

 

I was curious about her and her partner. Each time I tried looking in the direction of her table, I only saw the face of a man, smiling at her warmly. They were enjoying a nice, personal dinner on Saturday night. It warmed me that people their age, had decided to come in, have a nice dinner on a Saturday night rather than sit and watch television at home over a meal of porridge cooked by the wife. I did wonder several times as to why the man wouldn’t serve himself. And in between my conversations with my friends, and of course tons of activity around food, I did try and take a peek at him, but for some reason my vision of him was obstructed by the soup and salad bar.

 

We continued having dinner and stuffed ourselves with a million types of desserts and fruits and decided it was time to head home. My friends wanted to have a smoke outside and so we were standing in the smoking zone, observing people, a favourite activity Indians have inherited in their genes. We love observing people, we are also unfortunately pretty loud about our opinions of them in social settings. We gave in to our genes and continued talking about people, their cars, their behavior and such. Then as we waited for the car, we saw an auto-rickshaw in the hotel drive-through.

The auto-rickshaw had come  to pick up the brown-eyed lady and her husband. They had finished their evening meal and supposedly were now heading home. It took the old man a while before he could get into the rickshaw. Moving your entire body-weight from a wheel chair to an auto-rickshaw is going to be a tedious task. I found my answer. I was humbled by them. By their sheer will to survive, to come to a dinner on Saturday night and not choose the easy option of sitting at home because of his inability to move around comfortably.

 

Each of us, we fall in love easily. Unfortunately, we fall out of it even more easily. I asked myself a million times since I saw them there. What could have motivated them to go through that evening but sheer love and the want to enjoy an evening together. Just by themselves. She was committed to serve him every single thing and make sure he enjoyed his meal. He was committed to taking the pain of coming to a hotel, that is not handicap- friendly, unfortunately. (of course this topic deserves another note)

 

That is what I wish for each one of us. Pure dedication and commitment in our relationships. For me this was an enlightening experience to go through it all, to witness mere strangers change my life and realize that if the world were falling apart right now, each one of us should have someone looking out for them, no matter what.

You know

You know its the longest day in the world when everything seems slow and words fail you. When you want to say things and you want to move on and you feel like you are stuck in a box.

You know its the longest day when you walk out of the house in the dark and realize there is never going to be a day when you walk back in.

You know its the longest day when you might have moved on because you realize you cannot even fantasize of the person anymore. When things from the past, are spoken about in wry humour. That they may sometimes pierce your heart because you wonder when you became so hard about a soft emotion like love. Or when did the feeling of love and genuine affection for someone turn into anger and sarcasm.

You know its the longest day when you wake up with a smile and you sleep with a smile, but you know you would have been more comfortable to find your own space in tears.

You know its the longest day when you take one step closer to the future and you are taking one step away from the past in the same breath and you have to deal with the mixed emotions together.

Have you ever felt like you are standing at the edge of a cliff? Like you may feel two extreme emotions and feel them with the same intensity. When you may want to roar with laughter and burst with tears together. The exact feeling when you are anxious and of course relieved in the same moment.

That moment precisely is when you know. That you are moving on. Fresh skin is replacing the soft scab on the wound. But its going to take time.

Happy Mothers Day!

Mamma,

In you I see myself. Clearly just as if I stand in front of the mirror. To hope that I am as beautiful as you are.

Thanks to the umbilical cord, I am of course a part of you. You are a part of me. Always within me. Even on days you are not around in person. In the last twenty eight years of partying, I have realised that life is all about transitions. Transitions that go from play group to nursery, horrific mathematics to table manners, from barbie dolls to Danielle Steel,from heart-break to healing, and from having a mother who loves you crazily to the best friend you cannot imagine yourself without.

I remember waking you up in the middle of the nights as a child, only to cry and tell you my legs hurt. And promptly you would wake up and talk to me about growing pains. All the nights you spent taking care of me made me realise how symbiotic life is.

The first time I was unreasonably punished in school, I expected you to fight with the authorities. “Life is not always just and people are not always fair”, is all you had to say. You expected me to understand that and now I think I do. I remember coming to you before History exams, howling that I dont recall any answers. You would look and me, simply smile and say, “Nevermind, write what you remember and come back home. We can then go out for lunch”. You fought with the school authorities to take me for a holiday when they rejected my leave during school year. You threw emphasis on the fact that exposure and traveling with teach me more lessons than just sitting in class.

Instances when I did not succeed were simply okay with you. You still made me feel I had a reason to be proud of myself. And you said success was nothing but failure turned inside out and it will only make me stronger. You wiped my tears, always, and taught me the best survival strategies. Restrictions and impositions never found a way, and of course my life is simpler because of your life experiences.

It is the most beautiful experience on earth and I want you to know how grateful I am. To grow up in your shadow and to understand that no matter how many hurdles I have to fight through, life will be smoother with you on my side.