Into the Wild

“I now walk into the wild.” 


Perhaps not the best frame of mind to have picked up this book. Mind already ravaged by Old Boy. Hence somewhere this was a potential disaster just itching to happen. However having already watched the film, I was not entirely unprepared for the trip. So when pushed by SG to plunge into the world of Alexander Supertramp, I did.


The book leaves me grieving, bothered,disturbed yet somewhere hopeful too. I have my issues with a narrative that is told through the author. Despite Krakauer's promise that he will remain but a shadow in the tale of Alex, it did not come across as such. Somewhere I fear Alex deserved a better story-teller.The author's presence loomed throughout in a not-so-subtle way that irked me till the point about Devil's Thumb. Then it made sense. The author's identification with Alex explains the peculiar omnipresence throughout the book. But then again, there could have and indeed should have been a far better way of putting it.


The writing style does lack the feel of a book and smells suspiciously like an article pushing the boundaries. Which is no wonder considering the author built up on exactly that. It might not be the best written book, but its subject/content is powerful. But here is the deal, not for the reasons that perhaps the book is so well-loved. Alex's journey for truth, to find himself, to be alive leaves one wishing for the same, yes. Especially for ones like me who have such a cynical disposition to the world and sometimes life. But somewhere, for somethings, I feel myself agreeing with the ones who did find fault. Perhaps if he had been better prepared, he would have survived. But then this story would never have been. The life Alex chose to live is ROMANTIC because he did not survive. Had he lived, he'd have been just another traveller and the world would have never known Alexander Supertramp. His death resulting in his story, is the reason for many to admire him and want to live that life or the romantic notion of that life. 


One word that stood out for me was Hubris. I was pleasantly surprised to find that word creep into this book. But that makes sense. It is a tragedy as even the Greeks would play it. And Alex will be the hero. Fallen because of hubris. Having said that, I don't imply that he was a pigheaded, stubborn, arrogant prick. What moved me was that he was able to pursue his dream...his Odyssey..even if it was only for a while. What better way to leave this world, if not doing what you love or with those you love?


But I am jealous. Because it seems unreal and next to impossible for me to do what he did. It is Romantic. Especially in a set up in this country. What made his adventure possible was that he was NOT born in India, NOT a girl, NOT tied down to social obligations. In this country it is simply not possible to up and go. Those who think a life like Alex's is possible, perhaps are kidding themselves. Traveling without a rupee in your pocket? You won't get as far Park Circus/New Friends Colony. People here do no give lifts. PERIOD. Try that in Delhi.Just Try. People are scared/paranoid/heartless...perhaps I am generalising a bit but that's the truth. It's a dream if you want to walk Alex's road. Okay...even if you did by some divine intervention found people to keep giving you lifts to wherever it is you want to go to find yourself, you are therefore male. Imagine for one instant you are a girl. Hitchhiking? In this country? There goes my dream of being Supertramp. And coming to social obligations....we are bound to the people we know. It has been ingrained in us that family comes first. No matter how detached you think you can be, you can never truly detach yourself. It may not make a difference to your life, but there will 5 others who will be affected by your actions. Hence somewhere our actions are curbed. We live in a society where on being born our wings are clipped. We kid ourselves thinking we have learnt to fly flapping those broken wings. And perhaps we can fly just that much. That is the freedom we are allowed. We sit in our homes, write long facebook posts about freedom and wanting to be liberated but the hard truth is that this is as much freedom we will see. And we need to accept it.....at some point. Herein I envy Alex...I would like nothing best than to be on the road...to be free...to be me. But life comes with a price. Not necessarily a bad thing albeit a little stifling sometimes.


Personally what moved me to tears was the sense of loss. Death is an old friend to me, so I identify with losing someone you love. A mother's loss, a sister's loss....I identify so much with it. And so somewhere I feel anger towards Alex for being selfish. Because he was. While he justified his actions, he left behind so much pain. He went on to the great Alaskan Paradise in Heaven (???) but left behind those who will continue to feel his absence everyday. Yes people die...but somehow Alex's story could have been different and that's what makes it worse. I have lost too many people to be able to feel exactly how Billie, Walt and Carine felt. And it is not fair. The only solace I could draw that abated by anger is that perhaps towards the end, Alex realised that he cannot be alone. “HAPPINESS [is] ONLY REAL WHEN SHARED” . Perhaps he did realise the worth of people and human intimacy.


I too lost an uncle to the Everest. He went on an expedition and met a blizzard and never came back. We hoped that by some miracle he would be back. His brother stopped living for 20 years...gave up everything but hope till the point came when even the hope was lost. Only solace? That mama was lost doing what he loved best. Maybe he isn't lost...maybe like Alex he just did not want to go home. But to us...we live everyday feeling the loss...


Into the Wild  is a book that seems flawed but real. It doesn't inspire me to up and leave, it does however inspire me to find myself. The little that Alex did know about himself, it was crystal clear. I am nowhere close to finding such clarity. Alex inspires me to find myself.


So a note to S: Thank you for this book. Perhaps it did not evoke the kind of reactions you expected but it has evoked. That in itself is a lot. This is a book I will not forget easily, because it has not been an easy read. But it has inspired. It has motivated me enough to even write this. And for this I am grateful. So S, thank you for nudging me little further down the road to finding the truth...even if the truth is only about me...


Alexander Supertramp lives on in all of us...all those who have the privilege to dream...

Monday anyway brings the blues but this one in particular leaves me so hollow. Just seems like I've lost the will to do anything.I can feel a hollow pit inside me. I cant scream anymore. I cant fight anymore. I yield. I yield to the darkness. I yield to what must be done. I yield to that which is tearing me up inside.
I wish it was different. I wish I could turn back time and revisit the times when we did not pretend....wishful thinking I suppose led to this excruciatingly painful time. What distresses me the most is that I've forgotten how to wear the mask. I cant seem to be able to don my 'Everything is peachy' face.It slips off almost as soon as I wear it. I know this feeling...it's the singlemost uncomfortable and unpleasant feeling I have felt. The sense of loss....
Yes I will get over it, yes I know these things happen, yes I know it's for the best blah fuckity blah. But does it change the fact that right now I want to curl into a ball and stay like that? What do you do when the one person you want to talk to, who will help ease the pain, is the reason for the pain? Lost...
I just want to ramble on but must curb my enthusiasm here. Somethings are best left unsaid. Perhaps that's the problem. We leave too much unsaid. But then again we say so much by not saying anything at all.I can see my thoughts unraveling at a rapid pace.I shall just shut up and hope to god this passes soon.

     A week into the new house yet it hasn't quite settled in. Perhaps it's just the impending depression hanging over my head. D-day has arrived. Tomorrow will be the end of yet another era. Time to look back and take in all the mad dancing, uncontrollable laughter, the flowing tears, the bad fights, the unfortunate misunderstandings, the bi-zarre adventures...damn! 2 years flew by so fast....too fast. There was still so much we were supposed to do together. Unfinished business...something I suppose I should hold on to for the next few years. The hope that we will do all the silly, mundane things we had planned. For now it's just...little boxes, little boxes...
   One would assume that by now I'd have gotten used to watching people leave. Clearly not. I cannot begin to fathom how I will walk out of that railway station once I watch the last wisps of the engine smoke disappear into the sky. But then again I'm being selfish. She too will have a raincloud over her head...though she won't show it. Brave one she is. I'm just a wuss. A sentimental wuss. But...she's not going to an empty house, I am. Somewhere that emptiness I can already feel...preemptive strike....
      We did live our dream but did it really have to be that short-lived? I could happily settle for another 5 years or so. I know I have to let her go. She must grow and find herself. But can't help feeling like a ton of bricks have settled comfortable on my heart. Goodbyes are never sweet. Yes we will hug each other, smile through our tears but the gut wrenching pain and sorrow that is lurking around the corner will wash over us. So dear world, give us the strength to recover soon. Give us the strength to love and trust. Help us miss but with a smile. May we sleep, content and at peace. Somewhere time will slow down....somewhere time will fly by. Before I know it, I'll be back at the station, waiting to receive and not see off.

Here's to you, kid. Shine whereever your passion leads you. Smile when you think of me. Be brave. Have the strength to overcome every obstacle...physically or mentally. Live fiercely. Love who you are and what you do. Remember the smells and sounds. Do this...and be happy my chotu. Love you lots.

My life would suck without you :)

Promise made, promise kept...

This is keeping a promise made to a dear friend, perhaps one of the very few people who do read my blog.:) So thank you N.

I shall explain to you why there are these sporadic posts. Most of the time I have nothing to write about :( I write when I need to vent, when I experience extreme emotions and sometimes when I think oh shit its been a while.Tu comprende? But since you said nice things about me, I shall be a good girl and write (try) more regularly.

So after 1 and half years in this house, it is time to bid adieu to it. I remember huffing and puffing up the stairs with 2 suitcases and a backpack. My life in 2 suitcases and a backpack. Yet as I get ready to move into my own little place, I realise I have so much stuff!! Stuff acquired over the months which have no meaning, that mean too much, stuff I cannot do without, stuff that makes me want to go "WHAT WAS I THINKING?!!!" Yet it is mine. I need a tempo to move all these things...and I realise everything I possess is truly mine. From the random gold pompoms to the fridge...I am responsible for them. And there is sense of pride somewhere. I feel like an adult now; ready to set up a home. I will no longer operate out of a room to call my own but a house. It's giving me sleepless nights and I am scared shitless too but there is a sense of thrill and excitement too.That feeling is like a pressure cooker about to start whistling. I dont have a plan, I dont know how I'll do it. All I know is that I have to and I will. Maybe I will cry myself to sleep for a month, maybe I will feel so empty and hollow and alone. But it's only a matter of time before I get tired of my whiny self and kick myself into action. For everything that ends, there is always a beginning. That is the truth of life. My head is a lot clearer now...well atleast for somethings. The murky things remain, sometimes getting murkier sometimes being stagnant. Which is worse, I still know not.

At the beginning of this year I told S that this would be a year of many major changes. In my life and the lives of those I love. It's only May and my theory stands proven. I wait to see what else this year brings. Change is not necessarily good or bad....it sometimes just is....So I raise my glass and say "Thank you for being the only constant in my life."

Ramblings

Aaj jaane ki zid na karo (3)
Yunhi pehloo mein baithe raho (2)
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
Haay mar jaayenge, hum to lut jaayenge
Aisi baatein kiya na karo
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo (2)
Haay mar jaayenge, hum to lut jaayenge
Aisi baatein kiya na karo
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo

Tum hi socho zara, kyun na roke tumhe
Jaan jaati hai jab uth ke jaate ho tum (2)
Tumko apni qasam jaan-e-jaan
Baat itni meri maan lo
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
Yunhi pehloo mein baithe raho (2)
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
Haay mar jaayenge, hum to lut jaayenge
Aisi baatein kiya na karo
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo

Waqt ki qaid mein zindagi hai magar (2)
Chand ghadiyan yehi hain jo aazad hain (2)
Inko khokar mere jaan-e-jaan
Umr bhar na taraste raho
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
Haay mar jaayenge, hum to lut jaayenge
Aisi baatein kiya na karo
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo

Kitna maasoom rangeen hai yeh sama
Husn aur ishq ki aaj mein raaj hai (2)
Kal ki kisko khabar jaan-e-jaan
Rok lo aaj ki raat ko
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
Yunhi pehloo mein baithe raho (2)
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
Haay mar jaayenge, hum to lut jaayenge
Aisi baatein kiya na karo
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo

There's something very hauntingly beautiful about this song. Ofcourse I mean the
Farida Khanum version and NOT the Asha Bhonsle version, which is just rubbish. 
Discovered a little late in my life but so glad I did. From hearing S and M singing 
this for the first time to H humming this as she taps her fingers leisurely on her 
keyboard to telling S not to go to just realising damn...this makes so much sense. 
And now in 3 months, I'll be singing it to A...wishing I could keep her with me but
knowing that she must do what she must do.

Delhi winter is on its way out and I can almost feel the scorching heat of all that 
will follow till the next winter chill. This year I will embark on something new yet 
again and hope I have enough courage in me to see it through without breaking.
But then I'm on my way to being a cold heart bitch...or so I think.The last year 
and half has been such a rollercoaster...those who were my own became strangers
and so many strangers have become my own. Such is the cycle of life I guess. 
Hope I have become wiser.Hope I know how to protect myself without losing myself.

Everything's changing. When did we stop being kids and become adults? I still 
cant pick the moment when I stopped being a kid. Well a kid for all practical 
purposes atleast.That's probably what has made me a little colder. I look back 
at the girl I left behind in Kolkata and wonder who she is...would she 
recognise me? Would she approve of me? Would she judge me? Would she be 
proud of me? 

I miss some things and wish they could have been different but 
know now that things are exactly the way that they perhaps should be. 
I no longer hold on to them. 



I'm letting you go.
I'm not holding you back.
I'm not going to die if I no longer have you.
It is best.
I will be at peace. 
I promise.
I promise you.
I will miss you perhaps.
But I'm letting you go.


But for some....wild horses cannot make me wish you away. The good or the bad.
You make me. :)

Keeping up with new year resolutions is a farce. I find it easier to say I have a to-do list. Checking off stuff on last year's list was a thrill...all done save one. Not bad for someone who is supremely lethargic. This year's list should be a little more challenging I thought...how else to push myself??? 10 days down and so far the year has been great. Reason for this post...it's on my to-do list. MUST BLOG ATLEAST ONCE A MONTH!!!! Doesn't sound like much but considering how far apart I write, maybe this way I won't forget how to.


The Delhi winter rages on yet this year I don't feel the whiplash of the biting cold breeze. Makes me wonder...does this mean that I've become accustomed to it? Have I then become a Dilliwali?? I remember last year how vehemently I said Kolkata is home and I'll never be anything but a Kolkattan but a year and 2 months down the line, it's not so bad. This is home too. I belong here too. Maximum growth happened here. In the last year I saw a sea change in my general outlook to life and myself. The loneliness has given way to comfort and belonging...and it feels right. Perhaps I'm being a little presumptuous about being in love here but as a wise person once told me...we need to live a little. Without risks and letting go, it's a stagnant place. And I refuse to be stuck in a rut. And besides I have enough cushions lying around to break my fall. Some acquired over the years, lending a soft, familiar feel to my being. Some freshly collected, firm and strong even though they're not well broken in. But cushions nonetheless.

I've stopped struggling. I don't need to. Finally. Closure.

I get a good feeling about 2012...don't usually have an opinion of a year so early on...but this time, I feel it in my bones. This shall be a year of laughter, joy, love and life like I have not known it before. It seems very cliched and trite but such is life :P

I read a Browning poem this morning, something I had read long ago...somehow it made more sense now.

Round the cape of a sudden came the sea,

And the sun looked over the mountain's rim:

And straight was a path of gold for him,

And the need of a world of men for me.

(Something I hadn't posted last pujo and randomly came across...)

This has been one of the strangest Pujos. The impatient wait gave way to a shoshti spent at home with ma when shoshti meant out on the streets with the thousands trying to catch the early bus to the most popular pandals. Shosti was meant to be mad walking, bad food, lots of adda, countless random photos but instead I lazed at home all day and stepped out only at 2 am after finishing a bottle of old monk with A and C. Shoshti was rum, a tear or two, 4 pandals, candy floss, cha, lift from a stranger and staying up till the next morning to say bye to Ma. My strange shoshti merged into a saptami where the point to meet up with J, P, A and R was pushed back to 2 from 11:30. I surfaced at 12:30. 12:30 on Saptami meant para done and Durga Bari reached. Instead I was home. Random chilling at home while the rain swept everything away and once again I was stranded on an island as Lake Gardens went under water. As I sat sipping cha and looking at the rain, I realised for the first time I wasn't cursing the rain for washing away what would have been a day of mad pandal hopping. Something inside me just said that perhaps I had let go of something that I had clung on to for years and maybe this was a good thing. Maybe I'd miss it less this way... Just one of the gazillion things I'll miss but guess it was coming anyway. I gave some mad drinking with my past a miss. Instead I stayed at home with J and P while J just pushed me to weep uncontrollably with his playlist designed especially to twist my heartstrings and snap them. He is pure evil but in a good way.Damn. Damn. DAMN. I want to just beat up these assholes who I love so much who make things just so fucking difficult. I promised not to write one of those trite goodbye thingies but this is starting to smell exactly like that. Fucks to promises eh?

Goodbyes have never been easy. And this has been the longest goodbye. Or does it qualify as being goodbye when it's about a month long? The last 30 days have been the most perfect way to pull out of a never ending hug. From the chilled out moments in Delhi, to the whirlwind in Kolkata, to the gut wrenching speeding up of time in Giridih...I have loved it all. And yet while it seems like goodbye and it tastes like goodbye it does not feel like goodbye. The hopeless in me keeps clinging on to the fragments of the rapidly disappearing wisps of time. There are moments in the last one month that I will treasure forever. And what amazes me is how equations that have been a certain way steadily, change in the blink of an eye. Guess that's why we create these bonds. To be able to love so much and hurt just as much....with a smile on our faces.

I love you doesn't even quite sum up how I feel. I miss you won't do justice either. We are pure :) You are mine. Guess that should be enough. Coz that's all I have.

Yeah so I guess I needed you. And guess I don't need you anymore. Atleast for now. Maybe again soon I'll need you. But for now I guess I need to move on to a newer need. Doesn't mean I'll never need you. Who knows? Maybe you're the need I want but can live with or without. :)

"Some things last, she thought. Some ordinary things. Like love."


Here's to all those I truly love...

Happie

      Delhi has been most beautiful for the last 48 hours. The sky looks like it's about to break into tears yet the wind keeps wiping the tears away. And it is B E A UTIFUL!!!! And where else to find myself but my happie place?It's almost as surreal in the evening as it is in the dead of the night. At 2 a.m. the yellow sulphur or halogen (not quite sure which) lights that line the sides of Rajpath just seem ethereal. India Gate at one end and the Parliament at the other-seems like such a long walk. But it is undoubtedly the most beautiful stretch I have ever walked down. Does not matter what frame of mind I am in, the minute I'm there it's all happie. Not happy but happie. Not too many people will even understand the difference but for those who do... :)
       As I sat on the grass and looked down the road to India Gate, there was such a surge of happiness and love. It hit me long and it hit me hard that I'm so settled in this once-upon-a-time-alien city. This is my home now. I am from Kolkata and forever will be from Kolkata but I live in Delhi. And I love this city. It has become my city. It might not have accepted me as a Dilliwali and secretly I'm happy about that (makes me feel less guilty about cheating on Kolkata), but it is mine now. Maybe it's cause of my happie place or the people life threw at me, but it's made sense. All of it. I now understand why people fell in love here. Cupid targeted my ass and how. I think I'm still walking around with that arrow stuck to my rotund posterior. (And all this I thought of while sitting on the grass at 2 am, quite intoxicated.) My mid night sojourns to India have been beautiful. The lanterns burning, the guards in perfect sync and perfectly still, the dogs rolling in the dust and chasing their tails, the silence that is so comforting and of course the Gate itself. I read and re-read the inscription every time I'm there. And always get goosebumps. I have sat and read the names etched in the stone and thought of all those who died fighting wars and ended up being names on some granite. It is Romantic on some level but also so pointless. It's probably silly but silly and crazy is good. I have sat there, looking like an idiot with this perpetual smile stuck on my face. Che bella! Amore! It is love...dont think anything else fits that perfectly.
    To walk around India gate, with the wind dancing with my hair....I've never found it to be still- Shob shomoye ekta hawa kheleche. I often think what it would be like if all the lights were extinguished. Phoo. All is hurtling in the blackness of the night. I'm sure I'd still find no words to describe how beautiful it would be. Someone told me I'm obsessed with the place. I nod vehemently and will keep saying it's my happie place. Whether I have been there with people or not, a part of me has always been alone there and that's what I absolutely love. My mind wanders even when I am with people and goes to unchartered territory and I cannot control it. And I don't mind that at all. I always have a song in my head and it keeps making sense. Harmony amidst madness, I think it is. But I are not dukkho anymore. I am happie and have found love. <3
     

Almost everyday on loop. It makes perfect sense...

Look back in silence; the cradle of your whole life. 
There in the distance, loosing its greatest pride. 
Nothing is easy, nothing is sacred. Why? 
Where did the bow break? 
It happened before your time. 

There were people there, lovely as you've ever cared. 
Tonight. 
Baby you can start again. 
Laughing in the open air; have yourself another dream. 
Tonight. 
Maybe we can start again. 

Only the young can break away, break away. 
Lost when the wind blow; on your own, ohh.. 
Only the young can break away, break away. 
Lost when the wind blow; on your own, ohh... 

Mother its cold here. Father thy will be done. 
Thunder and lightening are crashing down. 
They got me on the run, direct me to the sun. 
Redemption keeps my covers clean tonight. 
Baby we can start again. 

Only the young can break away, break away. 
Lost when the wind blow; on your own, ohh... 
Only the young can break away, break away. 

Lost when the wind blow; on your own, ohh... 

And the sun will shine again. 
And the sun will shine again. 
Are you looking for a sign? 
Or are you caught up in the light? 

Ha.....ha.....ha.....ha....ha. 
Ha.....ha.....ha.....ha....ha. 

Only the young can break away, break away. 
Lost when the wind blow; on your own, ohh... 
Only the young can break away, break away. 
Lost when the wind blow; on your own, ohh... 

Only the young can... 
Lost when the wind blow... 
Only the young can... 
Lost when the wind blow... 

Ha....ha....ha....ha....ha. 
Are you caught up in the light? 
Ha....ha....ha....ha....ha.

"April is the cruellest month"

The last month has been nothing short of my world spinning madly on. So much has happened and so much has changed. I have been jumping on a trampoline as far as my mood has been concerned. I ended up shocking and surprising myself. Somewhere I have grown. Or is that how I want to explain it. Perhaps I am infact becoming cold. I know I have not lost the ability to love or feel but I dont feel the same things I used to. The things that were so familiar. 2 weeks of travelling. Going home was meant to feel right and on some level it did but so many strangers I encountered. The faces I could read like the back of my hand were all strangers to me. I feel nothing. What makes it worse it that I dont feel like its wrong. Home gave me the love I was missing but somehow I dont think I was able to give the same love back.

The hills saved me once again. It breathed life into me. Sitting under a million stars, feeling like surge of the cosmic energy. One of the most significantly surreal moments of my life. Cant remember the last time I had such an intense night. Not just because of the energy surrounding me. It has been a while since I spoken to anyone about God, religion, spirituality, love, the universe. And that too to two perfect strangers. And we sat and swapped stories and lives for a while. Put ourselves in the other's shoes. I know a lot changed that night and I will take away a lot from that night. I grew up a little more I think. It's amazing what the mountains are capable of. I cant wait to run back there again. This month has been significant in my life in more ways than one. Perhaps it has been the cruellest month. It helped me shatter so many comfortable bubbles.

Ticking of the Hourglass

Got myself a new pair of shoes. One of those sneaker type thingies. Or is it one of those flipfloppy thingies? Anyway it's helping me breathe easier. It really is amazing what a good night's sleep and a new perspective can do. I've begun appreciating the new shoes. I think I can deal with all types now. From the brand new shiny ones to the really old, faded, torn and well worn ones. From the sharp stilettos to the blunter wedges, from the strong boots to the flat ACGs, from Oshos to ballerinas. I think I'm beginning to understand them all. Some just fit like a charm. Some you need to break in. And some, no matter how much you try and want, will never as good on you feet as they did on the rack. Perhaps that's where they are best appreciated and appreciate I will. =)



I love how I frustrate me,
I love how I rarely see.
I'm still chasing my tail,
Still waiting for my mail.
I love how I still manage to shock,
I love how I load and lock.
I'm still dancing in the sand,
As the hourglass flows in my hand.

Damn I think I have forgotten how to write. I have no words. So I think I'll just borrow someone else's.

"One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple." Jack Kerouac

I'm listening to a piece I have never heard before and have no idea who it is by.....at my request to want to get completely mind fucked I have been given this....It's hauntingly beautiful and sad. Guess that fits the mood...

Is it half empty or is it half full?
Or is it just the glass?
Is it about the push or is is the pull?
Or is it just something that's meant to pass?

Do we take a bite or do we throw it out?
Or do we not even pick it up?
Do we stay silent or do we shout?
Or do just pass the cup?

Take a swig and swirl it?
Or gargle and spit it?
Are we meant to swallow?
Are we meant to be hollow?

Vow abstinence or take a hit?
Should we stand or should we sit?
Should we walk around the park?
Or sit alone in the dark?

Choices must be made,
Promises must be laid,
Keep it or break it,
But you can't escape it.

This is the truth, this is life,
Kisses like rain, cuts like a knife.
Hate it or love it,
But you can't deny it.
But you can't escape it.

A new year in full swing...already 3 months down. And even in that time its been such a crazy rollercoaster ride. There are days when I'm laughing my head off and others when I just want to crawl into a hole and cry myself to death. Nearly everyday I hear about someone or the other with terribly ill health, breaking relationships. I'm still trying my level best to keep afloat but let's face it...damaged goods are meant to go under and occasionally surface. I hear the sound of her wings and flinch. Wonder what she wants now...I can never tell why she comes till it's bloody in my face. She brought me more damaged goods. Threw them at me to sift through and decide which ones are the most affected and which ones can be passed over. Still deciding...
It was so perfect for a while. So perfect. And in the perfect moment I knew it was jinxed. And I'm always right. Yeah so I'm hurtling down at break-neck speed but everything else around me is and even that is not good. It's started spiraling again. I feel like I'm on stage again but I don't know the script and someone else is controlling my every move. Moments of hubris and aidos and eros and philia and eudaimonia create and destroy me. Faith falters. But must push through. It still beats, I still feel. And don't want to lose that. Don't want to be the kind who denies being in pain or pleasure. Will embrace both. But surely I'm allowed to fall sometimes right? So I'm choosing to free fall now. Let's see where, when and how I land.

As someone once very aptly said..."Fug the lug". =D


And so it shall be done....


And so it has been done.....


(psssssst....ok so Im not totally hating the red. But then again what do I know? I'm purple.) =)

Having the most surreal weekend so far. Spent yesterday walking around in JNU, climbing rocks and reliving someone else's college days...realised I missed mine too and it got me thinking whether things will have changed when I go back to where I became me. Perhaps change is a good thing but question is whether we are really ready for it. Was just talking to someone about how Flury's is no longer what it used to be but it's not that it's a mediocre place but just that Flury's used to mean so much more. It was the entire idea behind the entire Flury's experience and not really about Flury's and the quality of the meal there. It's even in simple things like forgetting about the zoo or Nicco Park. My mum seems to be re-living her childhood...she has spent her winter days going to the zoo, Nicco Park and Victoria Memorial and all of a sudden I'm so envious of her.
Coming back to surreal weekend...yesterday was spent in a daze...could be a nicotine withdrawal I was having or maybe because I just wanted to be spaced out. I took a long bus ride and didn't even mind it. And it wasn't even the new swanky bus but the old DTC bus. I know I was looking out the window but nothing really registered...everything was a hazy blur....just a million colours swirling together. Perhaps that's what an acid trip is like.
Today started even stranger....woke up early on a saturday morning and couldn't go back to sleep and had a bizarre dream. Been having weird dreams-about such unlikely people, in unlikely situations. Something my subconscious is fighting quite a battle and I'm oblivious to it. Sat and watched A sleep and thought that someone had found peace, even if only for awhile. Somewhere something doesn't feel right. Perhaps I have identified the demons, but unsure of how to deal with them. Spent the day with A but it wasn't her. Or maybe it wasn't me. I feel like a caterpillar changing into a butterfly only not so beautiful. It's more the cocoon than anything else. And again I've begun to ramble. The cesspool in my head is at its best. I suppose the only clarity I felt was sitting in front of the Gohonzon and chanting for half an hour. For that time I felt free and at peace. I need answers...need to figure out the issues....need freedom....or is that it what I'm looking for? Perhaps in a few days it will blow over. Or maybe I need to be blown in the direction the cold north wind takes me.