Where I Stood

I wonder if any of the mindless readers of my blog have heard Missy Higgins’ Where I Stood. Its one of my favourites.

Here are the lyrics -

I don’t know what I’ve done
Or if I like what I’ve begun
But something told me to run
And honey you know me it’s all or none

There were sounds in my head
LIttle voices whispering
That I should go and this should end
Oh and I found myself listening

‘Cos I dont know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don’t know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
‘Cos she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood

See I thought love was black and white
That it was wrong or it was right
But you ain’t leaving without a fight
And I think I am just as torn inside

‘Cos I dont know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don’t know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
‘Cos she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood

And I won’t be far from where you are if ever you should call
You meant more to me than anyone I ever loved at all
But you taught me how to trust myself and so I say to you
This is what I have to do

‘Cos I dont know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don’t know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
‘Cos she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood
Oh, she who dares to stand where I stood –

Somehow, this song helps me a lot in writing the story.

Here’s the new excerpt as promised to Dubs-

‘ She tells me I’m beautiful. I wouldn’t believe it if someone else had said it. But she says it with such intensity, that its difficult not to believe her. I wish she didn’t have to leave. I wish we could just stay here forever, in comfortable silence, holding hands. I watch as she leaves. The door shuts behind her. I start counting down the minutes for her to come back.

I know she doesn’t love me, the way I love her. It doesn’t surprise me. There’s not much to love in me. But somehow, when I look at her, I feel like maybe..just maybe, someone can fall in love with me. She is the light at the end of the dark tunnel that is my life. I think tonight, I’ll finally tell her how I feel. I’ll finally tell her that I love her.’

Opinions?

Back!

I’m back! Not by popular demand but, here I am!

I know its been ages since I last posted and for that, I apologize somewhat sincerely. Its been pretty crazy these past few weeks. Exams ended on 13th April. I doubt I’m going to do well in them. Was too busy checking facebook notifications and running away from mice to study. Packing to leave hostel was absolutely crazy. I left almost immediately after the last exam. And managed to pack all my stuff (and there’s a lot of it) in an hour! Towards the end, I was just dumping stuff on the backseat of the car. The last time I walked out of hostel I had one shoe, a towel and a belt in my hands.

Anyway, summer vacation has started now and I’m bored to death. Been eating way too many mangoes and watermelons. I stay up all night and sleep at 7 in the morning. But before I sleep I go for a long walk. I wake up at noon..eat lunch, watch tv, attend guitar class and once in a while meet a friend. Life has so much more purpose back in hostel.

More cribbing later. Look out for the next post. Fresh excerpt!

Choking With Emotion

The last few days have been painfully long. I have a cold. To put that in some perspective, its 39-40 C outside. I cough day in, day out. Go to the toilet every 10 mins to rid my throat of phlegm. Curse as I choke on awesome food that shouldn’t be consumed by invalids. The best bit – I had an exam today! Stupid exam, but an exam nonetheless. Ah well, c’est la vie!

So, a while back I promised I’d put up another excerpt from my story. And apparently, I do keep my promises. But before I post the excerpt, I thought I’d give you guys a brief description of the story, just in case some of you haven’t read the previous stuff. In this depressingly mushy story, a girl falls in love with a girl she meets at a coffee shop. It quickly becomes the sort of romance where you lose all sense of self. The two lovers go through a whole lot of ups and downs. Hopefully, they end up together. You’d think I’d know that, but I haven’t yet written the ending. So, here goes..the new excerpt.

‘ We walk all night. We talk all night. Sometimes, when I’m with her, I feel like I’m in a movie. Everything seems so unreal. She can make me laugh with a single word, a single expression. She made me realize how much I miss my own smile. She holds my hand as we walk up the grey pavement leading to my house. Its already early morning. I don’t want to say ‘goodbye’. I don’t want to see her leaving. Unsure of what to say, I end up inviting her in for a cup of coffee. My heart starts beating just a little bit faster. Pounding. Her hand covers mine as I turn the doorknob. Questions race through my mind. I don’t know if I’m ready for the next step yet. I close the door behind her. Tell myself to calm down. I turn, only to see her staring at me. She casts a nervous gaze on my lips, then looks away.’

Well, that’s all for now. Er..I’m sorry to disappoint those who mid-way through the excerpt expected a pervy sex scene. Maybe, next time..

P.S. Tomorrow is my brother’s birthday *wild applause*. The adorable idiot is turning 27.

 

We Remain Actively Passive

The first statement released after any act of violence is always ‘ we deeply condemn this incident’. In the quest for diplomacy, we lose some of our humanity.

Over the last few days, there has been a lot of talk about euthanasia in India. The person in question is Aruna Ramachandra Shanbaug.

Aruna was a young nurse working in K.E.M Hospital, Bombay. In November, 1973, she was attacked by an employee in the hospital, Sohanlal. He attacked her while she was changing her clothes. He choked her with a dog chain, sodomized her and left her in the bathroom. The strangulation led to a lack in oxygen supply to Aruna’s brain. It left her in a Permanent Vegetative State..

Sohanlal was caught and sentenced for assault and robbery. He served two concurrent 7 year sentences. He was not sentenced for the act of sodomy as the Dean of the Hospital had covered up that information, not wanting to harm Aruna’s reputation.

For the past 37 years, the nurses of K.E.M Hospital have been taking care of her, ensuring that no harm comes to her. Sohanlal returned twice after being released from jail to try and kill Aruna. Each time, unsuccessful. There have been attempts to shift Aruna out of the hospital in order to vacate the bed she has been occupying for all these years. But intense protests from the nurses has been prevented any such permanent move from occurring.

In 2010, Aruna’s friend, Pinki Virani, put up an appeal to end Aruna’s life in the Supreme Court. The Supreme Court while reviewing the petition stated that while they cannot allow active euthanasia, they can allow passive euthanasia.

What is the difference?

Active euthanasia involves the usage of lethal substances or force to kill someone. Whereas, passive euthanasia involves stopping all forms of medical treatments that are keeping the person alive.

In the midst of everything, Aruna’s case has become just another public spectacle. Something the media reports day in-day out for a week or so and then completely forgets about it. We, the heartless spectators, watch this frenzy, pass a few comments and stare as politicians and the public argue things out on national televison.

We go on a few candle marches, shout some catchphrases into a mic and then go back to the comfort of our homes. Eventually, everyone forgets the story. There’s always some new scandal to pore over.

We convince ourselves that we’ve done our part. Not realizing that justice has not been served. Justice is not just sending the guilty person to jail. Justice is ensuring the person stays there. Justice is ensuring that acts of violence reduce in number. Justice is ensuring the victim never feels let down by society. On most counts we fail. And in that respect, we are guilty.

For some reason, we, as humans, fail to realize that the person affected is also a human. We poke them , prod them, and ask them to tell us how they feel after just being brutally raped. After all, we do need a sensational line. TRPs are more important than emotions. Because as Bombay collapsed, as people died, it was absolutely imperative that a filmmaker be given a tour of the bullet ridden walls of India’s most famous hotel.

I deeply condemn the above.

 

The Cynical Squirrel

Creep would probably hate me till the day she dies for putting up this post but I don’t care..so..whatever!

The Cynical Squirrel in this post refers to (as most of the above average IQ readers of my blog would’ve guessed) Creep. Why ‘cynical squirrel’ you ask? – because she’s a wannabe cynic with a whacko squirrel laugh.

Her laugh is so freaking hilarious. It really does sound like a squirrel laughing. Bizarre! And apparently, I’m the only person who gets to hear this stupid laugh of hers. Lucky me! NOT. I don’t like adoring people and yet, the moment she laughs, I can’t help but adore her. So very unfair.

She has no sense of humour, no intellect, no height..nothing. And yet, she’s weirdly addictive. Her life revolves around shoes, crappy movies and gay guys. Gay guys? Yeah, all the guys she likes are gay. You’d think she’d learn, but..not. She also happens to be the pioneer of dying music. If the world does indeed end in 2012 (or before for that matter), it’ll be because of her singing.

She makes spicy food without any salt and then makes me eat it. She eats candy like her existence depends on it. Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure it does depend on it. She’s the kind of person who’ll eat KFC just before or after going to gym.

In the words of Meredith Grey, ‘ she’s my person’. The only one I’d call at 3 in the morning for absolutely no reason..the only one who might actually pick up. The only one who wouldn’t debate the sanity of eating an entire box of wasabi peas in one go. The only one who’ll let me crib and crab during movies. The only true friend I might ever have.

P.S. – In the previous post, there’s an orange banner for Multiple Sclerosis. As readers of my blog, I am assuming you guys are jobless. Please be jobless enough to click on the banner and support the organisation. They do a lot of interesting research. For those of you who are lazy and lack the energy to scroll down, here’s the link minus the orange awesomeness - http://www.nationalmssociety.org/index.aspx

The Aesthetic Voyager

I don’t know how I should start this post. I don’t know what this post will be about. I don’t know where I’m headed.

There’s this movie, Into The Wild. I’d seen it for the first time in 12th grade. It left me stunned. It’s so sinfully good. The movie is based on a true story about a man named Christopher McCandless a.k.a Alexander Supertramp. A college graduate, he’s dissatisfied with his life..the web of lies he lives in. A life where everything is based on materialistic satisfaction. So, he makes a decision. He donates all his savings, $24000, to Oxfam America and sets out on a cross-country wilderness trek with Alaska as the final destination. He carves the following line into a plank of wood -

‘ No longer to be poisoned by civilization he flees, and walks alone upon the land to become lost in the wild.’

The movie chronicles the events leading up to his tragic death. It has to be one of the most bittersweet stories of all time.

Inevitably, these kind of movies lead me to think a lot..about the life I have led, the people I have met.

I haven’t led a particularly honest life. I’ve been blessed with a family that’s willing to give me whatever I want, much like the McCandless family. But certain events forced me to change. Changing myself is not decision I regret, but it’s certainly a decision I contemplate. In a life weaved with omissions, dishonesty and hatred, I’ve managed to find some of the most honest and loving people to have ever walked upon this planet.

If I’m a better person today than I was before, its because of these people. Right from the girl who wished me Happy Birthday and told me I looked pretty in 3rd grade, on a day when I’d shed more tears than most others. To the first guy to hold my hand. Right from the grandmother who made my life worthwhile. To the brother who’ll always be the strength of my life.

The people mentioned above (and a whole lot more) made me realize that loving, or for that matter, living, can’t be all that bad. So, yes I’ve had bad days. Hell, most of my days are bad days. And yes, I hate looking into mirrors because they make me cringe. But over the years I’ve learnt that even one moment of pure, unadulterated joy everyday can make you a better person.

As much as I hate it, everything boils down to love. Are you capable of loving? Or are you incapable? Do you stand and stare as your life rushes past you?

P.S. – I hope that at least a few people who read this blog post, will watch the movie. But if you still need some more reasons to watch it, here they are:

1. Eddie Vedder’s amazing music, made even better with the addition of his amazing voice.

2. The rather liberal smattering of quotes from authors and poets such as Tolstoy, Thoreau, Sharon Olds and Lord Byron.

Early Morning PMS

As I start typing this post, its 5:17 am. I should be fast asleep by now but as is usually the case, I’m not.

I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do at this hour. Should I have a Ross and Rachel type scene where I prance around the room in my birthday suit? I wish I could, but I’m pretty sure my roomies would have some issues with that. Should I read? Should I watch a movie? Should I catch up on my writing? Should I workout? Life can be pathetically pointless early in the morning.

On most other nights, I end up net-surfing or reading something from my module content. I wish someone else would be awake at such times. Being nocturnal is so much fun! People don’t realize what they’re missing out on.

It is at such hours that I come up with my freaking awesome rhymes a la ‘when love is in the air, the hair stands on the bear’. Most of my best poems/songs have been written around 4-5 am (believe it or not, I actually do write better stuff than the above-mentioned rhyme).

The obvious solution to the whole ‘what-to-do-this-early-in-the-morning’ thing would be to count sheep jumping over random fence and going off to sleep. Its just that..I don’t want to do that. Back home, I’d go into the kitchen and make a cheese omelette or something. But I can’t do that in hostel. Too much effort.

P.S. I feel like eating cupcakes. Hence, the background.