A Desperate Letter......

Not-so-dear social networking sites,

I am not in the brightest of my mood...or anywhere close either.

Let me start by saying that there have been times when I have loved someone. Sometimes, I have a reason to fall in love, sometimes I don’t. For you, I feel otherwise. And I have tons of reasons for my feelings. Could you wait for a minute while I arrange the reasons as per its priority? No? A minute is enough for a system overload and for your system to crash and not function? Oh ok, I will try to get it done in less than a minute.

But don’t count on me. I am not a computer. I am a human.

First off, there are just too many of you. Bigadda, Flickr, Hi5, MouthShut, MySpace, Twitter and WAYN – what are you all upto? When are you going to realise that you have hardly a thing or two different from the other? And that humans are not foolish enough to register on all the sites just because you are marketing the one unique factor that you have? Orkut, you were one of the first babies, but clearly, you are becoming old and outdated with your siblings running past you. You need to step out of the race. Facebook and Twitter are the undisputed rulers right now. We, being humans, understood that. How come, you didn’t?

Wait a minute. Humans ARE registering on all of the sites. Silly me. My apologies.

Twitter. Awesome concept of 160 characters short messages online. Whoever thought of this must be a real bored fellow. No offense, but I really do mean it. All great ideas are results of boredom. Thanks to you twitter, I now know when my ‘follower’ in Russia broke up with her boyfriend. I also know why Abhishek Bachchan had a bad day at his shoot. My neighbour just updated me that she had her bath. Oh, and now I know that my blood brother (who lives in the same house as me) had an awesome time in Goa.

One of my classmates said, on the phone, that she hadn’t started her project. 15 minutes later, when I log in to my Twitter, she announced she was half way through. Twitter, thanks for helping me catch my two-faced friends.

Facebook. What a wonder you are. I will probably not be astonished when I see a yellow crow. But you...you amaze me every single time. No, I am not kidding. I am totally hooked on to you. And I am just one among the zillion others who love you, adore you, worship you.

My mornings start with you. My nights end with you. Whenever I click photographs, I keep you in mind. After all, they need to be good enough to be uploaded on you. I sometimes even fall asleep on the keyboard. Whatever happened to boyfriend’s shoulders or mother’s lap! Well, they are passé.

I have even learnt to use my left hand for different purposes. Before you imagine, let me specify – I can write, eat, sms and flip the channels on TV with the remote control. Because my right hand is moving the mouse and typing on the keyboard na.

All ambidextrous and multi-tasking folks, let's have a round of applause to Facebook and the gang.

I have a good 500 to 800 friends on my friends list. I am this super-intelligent personality who loves reading only the top novels in the world. Also, I have great political views. I hate hypocrisy and liars. I watch the best of shows on television most of which are English (some of which I copied from my friends’ profiles). You have given me a new personality, Facebook. Thanks. For with the personality that I really have, nobody would have given me a second look.

You are also kind enough to tell the world when I am single and ready to mingle. Thanks for making me a hot number on the dating scene.

But yes, you are responsible for a few fights too.

One of my friends in the real world hasn’t added me as his friend in the virtual world. He is afraid I will see his pictures and his chats with his other friends. Another shouted at me the other day because I hadn’t commented on her status update. Mind you, we were on the phone that time. I had called her to say that I missed her as it was a week that we last spoke. Before you were born, she appreciated my calls. Now....alas : (

Another friend - he said that he was very busy with his work. When I was harmlessly surfing my account, I checked out his profile and there were pictures of him....in a disc...partying! Yet another, someone who has a soft corner for me, blasted on me because apparently I have more guy friends on my list than girl friends (dude, aren’t you happy, I am straight?!) and then there is this one, whom I have a soft corner for, chats day in and day out with all his virtual friends but doesn’t have the time to call me for a minute in the day. He says he is busy. Well, yeah! Certainly, he is!

You also bring out this weird behaviour in people. Friends, who generally never hug me or kiss me in public when we meet, send me hugs and kisses online! It is flattering, ya, but what am I supposed to do now?

I know you want to make life easy. I know your intentions are good. But for me, it’s turning complex.

I want to 'talk' to my loved ones. I want to guess whether they have a cold or no by hearing their voices. I want them to 'sing' a song for me before going to sleep when I need pampering. I want them to come to my house and give me an invitation card. I want to be a part of their lives. I want to cuddle up with a ‘real’ puppy.

I don’t want to know when they are going to pee. I don’t want them to dedicate songs to me on the World Wide Web. I don’t want them to be so busy building up a network of strangers and in the process forget friends. I don’t want to feed my virtual cow.

I am grateful to you, because now people do not drop in to my house at any random hour. They would rather say a ‘hi’ on any of your sites.

I am not technologically challenged. Nor do I have anything against you personally.

However, I want a simple, primitive life where people used to be in contact either on telephone or in person.

Help us. Don’t rule us.

Solve our problems. Don’t create new ones.

Yours,
Starved for human contact

The Story of a Poem

The first few lines came out easily on paper
"The teardrop on my lashes still remains
As memories invade my mind again
I remember the lonely night of July when the rains blessed the city
When you and I came close under the blue umbrella
When you put your hand on my left shoulder
I fell warm and shivered in wonder; you thought I was catching a fever
I was for sure! The fever of love"

What would follow next, thought Anuradha. As she thought, she could hear her two mini tarzans rumbling down the stairs. Yes, it was time for school. She slid the paper behind the cooker and packed their tiffin boxes, stuffed them into their school bags, kissed them on the cheeks and waved them goodbye. She had to do a million other chores still. She had to put the clothes for washing, the new maid would be coming, she had to play host to her new neighbours who had moved in last week and put the messy house back into order. And she had to do all of it by the time her husband and children would be back.

The poem could wait.
~~~
Samarth waited at the bus stand as he wiped the sweat off his forehead. Global warming was indeed a reality; he shook his head in disappointment. He didn’t want to wait, firstly because he wasn’t used to travelling in public transportation and secondly because he had no idea of the frequency of the bus. Usually, he would have taken the kids to school on his bike but that morning, the bike refused to budge. He dropped the kids in an auto-rickshaw and here he was, waiting at the bus stand.

Two women, on the uglier side of beauty, were busy in their conversation. Samarth had no job in the world as he waited for the bus, so he didn’t mind letting their talks fall on his ears.
Woman 1: What’s that book you are reading? Oh, its The Burning Desire?! That author is so very repetitive.
Woman 2: I couldn’t agree more. But I know for a fact that what people go through in their lives reflects in their writing. This author is definitely very unhappy with her own husband and hence, is involved in an extra-marital affair.
Woman 1: (giggling) Bang on Suman! You just robbed my thoughts! The other day, I told my husband the same. Poor woman, don’t know whether to sympa...

As they continued analysing the story behind the text, Samarth smiled to himself feeling relieved that his wife was not a writer. Or else, the readers’ curiosity would have chased them into the bedroom as well. Amidst the smile, what was also visible was pride. He was proud of himself for having opted for an unambitious, simple, fairly educated, obedient and unemployed girl for marriage. He loved his better-half. She was all that he had ever asked for in a wife.
He thanked the stars for saving him from being the husband of a writer.

The bus finally arrived. It was time to do some work now.
~~~
Anuradha settled down in her favourite chair. The chair had some magic, it helped her clear her mind and think better. Now that she was done with her work, she thought hard for the rest of her poem. I am suffering from the writer’s block, she chuckled. She liked referring to herself as a writer.

She reached for the telephone and with trembling hands, dialled a familiar number. The phone rang on the other end. Suddenly, it stopped ringing. A male’s voice distinctly resounded, “Hello?” Anuradha’s face shrank as if her heart was just about to break. The voice sounded irritated, “Who is this? Why do you call up so often and not speak? How will I know who you are unless you spe..”, Anuradha sat trembling in her chair. Before he could complete the sentence, she had replaced the receiver.

Her pulse rates settled down after a while, her face regained its normal colour, she picked up the paper again, held her pen and added a few more lines to her incomplete thoughts.
"The rains still bring back those times spent with you
The blue umbrella is not to be seen but the blues still remain
Though I am no longer a part of your landscape
You still are a teardrop in my lashes"
~~~
The auto-rickshaw halted with a screeching noise. Samarth and the children had arrived. Anuradha jumped from her chair, folded the paper and neatly put it along with her other written pieces under the yellow dupatta in her drawer. On locking the drawer and hooking the keys in the folds of her sari, she rushed to open the door before the doorbell rang. After all, she was the ideal wife and mother...
~~~

Heaven on Earth

Who said love happens once in a lifetime? Love happens almost everyday with almost every other person. What I feel for my mother is love. What I feel for my closest friend is love. What one feels for her puppy is love.

When you don’t feel that you are compromising for the other person, it is love. When the other person is irritating yet it doesn’t bother you, it is love. When you don’t think it is a big deal to go out of the way to help the other one out of difficulty, it is love. When the other person wakes you up at 4 in the night to vent out her frustration and you do not have the heart to shout at her, it is love. When you come back home after a long and tiring day and want to see that one single person at the door, it is love.

It is not difficult to recognise love amidst the numerous emotions that attack us through the day. No winds will blow, no flowers will spring, no colourful bubbles will float around you (if they do, you are sitting in a theatre). None of these things will happen. You just need to make a good connection with your heart. That little thing beating within you will tell you whether or not it is love. It says nothing but the truth.

Love will overpower all other emotions. All other moods.

Don’t speak of love or yearn for it if you aren’t willing to give your all for it. True love is the highest blessing any person can have from the heavens. It is all you need to make your time here on earth, heaven.

True love is one of those rare phenomena. As rare as a blue sun or maybe winter in Mumbai. When you have that someone who loves you beyond life itself, you can go through all that life has lined up for you. And life usually has a lot lined up!

In a world where people snatch, steal, sleep with other people’s love; in the corporate world where anything goes and everybody has a go at it; where sex has ravaged love; in this sticky and dirty and awful set-up, true love is something to honour and cherish.

If one is looking for true love, one first has to get the mediocre loves out of his system.

Don’t put a question mark where life has put a full stop.

Fiction or.....?

The first time she fell in love, she thought she would die of a heart attack because of the number of times her heart skipped a beat on seeing him.

She could tell him anything. She wanted to. She wanted to do everything possible to make him feel special. And why not? He was indeed very special. He loved her, but conditionally. There were times when he would realise that there are better things to do than to just fall and remain in love. She failed to understand. It was against her principles. Against her nature. Against the picture that she had of love in her mind. Damn Bollywood!

She took it as a passing phase taking each one as an obstacle to a higher level of togetherness. Before she knew, he confessed that he no longer loved her. Left heartbroken, she couldn’t come to terms with the fact that there could be anything wrong with her. What could possibly be wrong? Didn’t she love him truthfully? Didn’t she put her self-respect aside to boost his? What did she not do? What went wrong that he didn’t love her anymore? Half a year and 50 sad songs hence, she returned to her original, rational self. Life seemed simpler now. The clouds of hope and despair had cleared out from in front of her eyes.

She realised that he hadn’t stopped loving her. One needs to be in love in order to get out of it. Something was definitely wrong with men.

However, love didn’t seem to leave her path. It came again. Several times. But she didn’t get herself involved. She thought the best way to be in a relationship was to not be in love. Ironic and silly as it sounded, although she didn’t believe in it herself, she thought it would be a successful formula. Can’t blame her - she was living on survival instincts now.

Then came another beautiful rainy evening. Once again, she would blame the Rain-Gods for the increase in the testosterone level in man and woman. Her boss, whom she secretly adored, offered to give her a lift home. Was it the first step towards a relationship, she thought. A shy grin and she got into the car with him. Traffic jams, honking cars, water splashing, street fights – nothing bothered her. Her trip home, which usually lasts for ages, seemed so pathetically short that day. For she was having a wonderful time chatting with her love (apparently she was too mature to have a crush). They spoke and laughed and exchanged their views. He loved the fact that she thought the same way as he did. She loved the fact that he loved something about her.

She couldn’t wait to reach home and tell her best friend how her dreams were taking shape. The next day in office would be so awkward for her boss and her to meet eyes. Blushing at the thoughts, she stupidly gazed into nothing. When it was time to get off from the car, she thought of wishing him good night in the sweetest of tones and what not.

Pop!

What was that?

Did a balloon burst? Oh no, it was her dream bubble. Because he asked, “By the way, what’s your name again?” She never knew that such an innocent question would ever make her want to scream out loud and tear her hair.

Damn the male species!

Distancing herself from men, from love, from relationships – she found solace in friendships and non-committal relationships. It was better that way, she realised. Earlier, she needed convincing but now she was herself okay with the concept of non-commitment.

Life was easier. Relationships lasted longer. Sometimes forever. Lesser fights. More love (not that kind). She started enjoying the different forms of love that can exist between two people in general and man and woman in particular.

She started seeing more clearly how fragile men are, how inconstant, insecure, indecisive and surprising they are. It took her time to get over the shock but now she knew that’s just how men are. It’s not their fault. It’s their quality. That’s what differentiates man from a woman.

Love (or the lack of it) was turning her into a philosopher.
Well, at least love was doing something good to her.

Then he came. The love of her life. Whom she loved since the time when she didn’t even know the meaning of the word. Her first crush. The crush that lasted for 6 years. The crush that she had sidelined after growing up. The crush that had envisaged all her senses. No arousal. No lust. No dreams. Just plain want. She just wanted him for he was the idea of the perfect man.

Tall and adorable. Handsome. Eyes that made her fall in love. Hair that made her want to caress him. Lips that made her forget her next sentence. Voice that made her want to shut up for the rest of her life.

This was not infatuation. This was no crush. These things last for maximum a year, so her friends had said. Then, was this the dreaded feeling? No. She turned her back.
Or did she?

Why did he have to come back? Life was good when she knew that she was surely not going to get him. Why did he have to come and complicate things by presenting a possibility?

Everything told her that she was about to make the wrong decision but what did the world expect of her? Did it not want her to take any risks? To say ‘no’ and deny the one single opportunity that could go right?
She said yes.

Once again, she welcomed love with open arms. Once again, she surrendered herself to this one man who was the owner and occupant of her dreams. Now she was handing him the ownership to reality too.

Keeping passion at bay or surrendering blindly to it – which of these two attitudes is the least destructive?
She didn’t know.

Big risk. Her soul shrieked out to her. Her heart couldn’t take another bruise. But she was not to listen....

She let herself go with the flow convincing herself that even if it doesn’t work out, she will not break her heart. She will take the outcome in the most detached manner. But why was she thinking all the negative stuff? Did she know what was impending?

Mornings started with each other. They went out for dates together. Meet after meet, they opened up their book of life to each other. There was no need to keep any secrets whatsoever. They were each other’s now. They loved each other’s company. Joked. Laughed. Talked forever. He said things that told her that this was it. Whenever she would see him, hold his hand, rest in his broad arms, feel safe in his hug, find heaven in touch, melt in his kiss, she would let out a silent prayer to the Lord.

Things weren’t the way she had imagined all these years. They were better.

Howmuchever she wanted to believe him and his love, there was something that always bothered her.

Why did he come back to her? When one is as handsome as he was, there wasn’t a chance that he would have no girlfriend. Why would he come back to a girl who was foolishly in love with him 6 years back? Why would he settle for less when he can settle for the best? Not that she underestimated herself, but she was another pretty face in the crowd. Why her? Why now?

If she continued at this rate, she would surely die of a heart attack.

Girls! Even if things work well, they manage to find something fishy in it.

Was she wrong this time?
Or was he wrong?

Where is the Music???

MTV originally stood for Music Television Videos. However, I am not too sure how relevant the name is in today’s times, for there is hardly any music! And the credit goes to the numerous reality shows that are telecasted on the channel.

Splitsvilla, Splitsvilla re-runs, Teen Diva, Roadies, Roadies re-runs, the Fast and the Gorgeous, Stunt Mania and MTV Connected – all these shows have hijacked the channel. To be frank, I really loved a few of these shows. But that was because there was a novelty factor. All this was new once upon a time. Now, every channel has a reality show which is on similar lines more or less. So, even if I happen to miss any show, I don’t need to fret. I can catch a similar version with the same abuses and politics and tasks by just flipping the channel.

The point here is not the reality shows in general. It’s about MTV. I love MTV and Channel V for its music. Clearly, Channel V has no competition now.

Now I need to get a life :):)

Wow! It was so awesomely fake! I don’t even know why I watched it! Lol...

I still cannot digest the fact that Rakhi can be shy also. The coy smiles that she gives, the flittering of her eyelashes, the petite damsel picture that she portrays – all this is so unbelievable. If people label her as the most happening item girl, then clearly, she is also a good actress!

The number of publicity stunts she pulls is shocking. She even wept on television when she was asked about her ex-boyfriend. All the gifts that her prospective grooms give are also known to us. She decides the groom on the basis of certain questions asked. Oh c’mon Rakhi, if I was to be selected on what I am to answer, I would have won long time back!!

I am fine with the concept of getting married on television. It’s her personal choice. But when I was glued to the TV watching it, I surely felt that I need to get a life! In spite of me criticising it so much, I still saw it *wink* She sure knows how to use the media to her benefit.

Complications of Love

Watching Love Aaj Kal forced me to think about this funda of long distance relationships. In the movie, they say that long distance relationships don’t work. I so not agree with the comment. Seeing the million (okay, a little exaggerated figure) couples that I have known, I believe that the basis on which a relationship might work or no is totally subjective. It depends on how the two lovers carry it. Because for all you know, a relationship might not work if you are together all the time!

Distance is essential to let love nurture. To let one realise the value of another. To let one analyse the importance of having a loved one in life. If one is madly in love, then distance or no-distance - it simply doesn’t matter! Staying away can surely create problems and a whole lot of misunderstandings. But that alone cannot determine whether love will last or not.

I have seen couples break up because of not being able to meet often and then again, there are these couples who got ‘bored’ because they were always together. Why is love - the simplest, the most basic emotion in life - so complicated?!

And what is this with people loving the people who are hard to get! How ironic is that! Why do we always run behind things that are so difficult to achieve? And why, once we get it, we are not interested?

Why are we all so frikking confused?

Why run for it in the first place?!?!