*inspired by jaane kya baat hui.
There is something that pulls you towards someone. There is something very strong very profound- it’s the true desire to be close to someone. It starts from the invasion of thoughts to disruption of daily schedule with excessive day-dreaming, and worst, letting a single thought take charge of your entire being. You know from that point onwards that things will change. The attraction that pulls you towards that someone is impossible to explain.
You know that the inevitable will happen and no matter how hard you try to fight it, you know in your heart you’ll lose. People enduring this avidity are in no rush; they live each moment reverently. The color of life changes color and there is a new rhythm in their stride. These people are now in love with life. The emotion that erupts is so strong that it spreads like an infection-inside out. This virus is beyond any cure; instead it makes the heart push out love notes from the very core.
Everyone gets infected by this desire to love (life) at some point of their journey. Everyone has their own story. But whatever the story people in this state experience a desire in its purest form.
As for me, I call it a mess- a beautiful mess.
* The post is purely on R&D of true life events-not!
Its where I grew up as me,
Its the place that welcomed VIP’s
It was a hub of activities,
It was my room,
loaded with privacy.
It where we ate, we drank, and we laughed,
Its where everyone got dressed
& fought for their mirror’s half,
It was where the phone nd music never stopped
Prolly why we missed class after class?
Its where I got my first kiss,
Its where I realized; Wa luv really is?
Its where my heart broke a thousand pieces
Its where I packed my bags and left for studies.
Once again I’m in this room
I heart it all, I c it thru.
A flash of moments run thru ma mind,
like life captured in images of black nd white
It was a Place-To-Be,
Loaded with privacy
My room, the hub of activities.
She’s stylish, she’s smart, she’s sexy, and she’s brilliant. Yes am talking about Ziba! Anyone who knows me knows about Ziba. And those who don’t- well, u knw where u are in my books then. She is my baby and I get deeply offended when ppl don’t ask me how is ziba ever once in a while. Sometimes, they (emotionally nd technologically challenged ppl) often ask me what does Ziba mean and how come she is a she? Or worse yet they say- Its just a notebook! Oh they get in trouble I tell u that. Before I go on to answer their questions- they get a look from me. Yes, you know that look. So I decided I should get the facts straighten out once and for all- Ziba means Beautiful in Persian and anything that is hawwt, smart, sexy, and intelligent can only be a woman! And no its not JUST a notebook.
There is more then that to Ziba- She’s got a radiant yet warm personality. She captivates ur attention and indulges you into a magical world where you forget reality and are connected one-on-one with her. She’s skilled in stealing ur time without ur awareness and yet leaves u feeling satisfied in the most guilt-free way. She is quite advanced than her fellow kind and very talented as well. Oh did I mention she is a brilliant multi-tasker and a great entertainer?
She gets a little jealous when I dnt spend enough time with her or when I start talking about upcoming notebooks. She feels threatened somehow. One time I decided it would be nice for Ziba to meet her other kinds so I introduced her to a Mac. They didn’t last very long coz Ziba complained that he (the MAC) doesn’t run too long and isn’t stylish enough (ziba can rotate 180 degrees and can fold flat and is a Touchscreen) for her. She does have a lot of attitude coz of her features. So now she is happily single and looking for a suitable playbook. (An add on craigslist mite help?)
It will be almost one year next week since Ziba came into ma life and she already has a list of accessories she would like for her special day. In this one year Ziba and I had some great times together even when she threw random scans on me for not spending quality time with her- yet we make a happy duo.
-This ones for u Ziba
Its time again for the rains, the monsoon rains. What is it that I love so much about the rains, I am not sure. Is it the rhythm of the rain drops falling on the surface, the smell of the wet soil, the clean up of the dirt on the roads, the urge to drink a nice cuppa tea, the different sounds the rain bring in different corners of the house, the breeze, the visit of the unwanted species that crawl their way through and about, the darkness that invades the house, the conversations of the clouds or the stillness of the time. No, I say to myself. There is more to why I love rains. Yes there is. I go back to deliberating on a lazy July afternoon accompanied with my favourite cuppa earl grey. Its funny how this tea is always around when am giving something a thought. I smile to myself, looking at my mug, ‘you my friend are my partner in sin’. Yes that’s what earl grey does to me. It makes me think. I have a habit of drifting from one topic to another in my thoughts; I believe it’s a psychological process to keep me sane.
Coming back to the topic of rains…ahhhh! I say to myself. Rains! I know why I love them. They bring thousand emotions with them. There are days when they make you feel oh so romantic and then there are days when you feel completely blue. They can take you to the highest of your highs and lowest of your lows. They can make you dance with them in a funny circular motion and they can make you believe, you’re truly alive. There are days when you reach out to touch the raindrops and you smile when they melt in your palms, MAGIC you think! They make you wanna go out for a long drive or hang out with loved ones or they can make you sit by the window and reflect on your life. Whatever the rain makes you wanna do in the end they do bring with them abundant emotions. Every time it rains, someone is in love, someone is lonely, someone is blue, someone is in a complete bliss, someone is crying with the sky and someone is raising his arms to thank god for the downpour. Everyone has a different reason. Everyone has a unique emotion.
As I write this I realize it’s a beautiful bright sunny day and I am thinking of the rain. Oh! How I wish it would rain today.
How busy are we? Oh I know, very! Aren’t we all? There are million things we are busy with. But in taking care of all we sometimes forget the simple acts of kindness. “I don’t have time” is a damn good excuse and it works too, almost always. In this ever changing world where from gadgets to laws from relations to people everything changes, ask yourself if your habits are changing too? I think they are.
I am blessed with good observation skills and so I can’t help notice things people do unconsciously while running through their chores, on the street, in their cars, etc. It never fails to amaze me how rude some people can be by not saying a single word and at the same time how courteous some people can be by a simple act of consideration.
- Do you hold the door for the person behind you?
- Do you say ‘thank you’ to the waiters/servers?
- Do you stop in the middle of the road to give right of the way to a pedestrian who is trying to cross the busy road?
- Do you ‘thank you’ or let out a wave when someone lets you merge in the lane
- Do you litter?
- Have you ever gone out of your way to help a complete stranger?
Let’s forget about strangers for a minute. How busy are we for our own people? Let’s see:
- When was the last time you picked up the phone to call someone who hasn’t been expecting your call?
- Have you surprised someone lately?
- When was the last time you cooked someone’s favourite dish for them as a surprise?
- Do you appreciate/encourage/compliment enough?
- When was the last time you had a heart to heart conversation with someone?
- Are you a good listener? Think again!
I know my answers…do u?
What are you waiting for..
LET IT OUT!
It’s a question am asked often, so often that sometimes I feel I should include the answer to my middle name. This week it happened twice. Few days back a colleague (let’s call her ‘H’) comes to my desk and after the initial five minute chit-chat this is how the conversation went:
H: “…Are you French?”
Me: =) (this was my exact reaction)
After 4 precise seconds, “No I am not French”
H: “You don’t look like French but your accent and some of the pronunciation of words seems French.”
She has the look on her face as if she is trying to figure it all out and is thinking out loud. So I give her time as I was very intrigued as to where she was going.
H: “Have you ever lived in U.K.”?
Me: =) (by now you must have realized this is my standard answer) “No, not lived but I’ve visited many times”
After few more minutes she gives upon her guessing game by throwing her hands in the air.
H: “Where are you from?”
Me: =) “I thought you’d never ask. I am from India”
H: “Noooooooooooooo wayyyyyyyyyyyyyyy” (she was nodding and she couldn’t stand at one place)
Me: Smiling cheek to cheek… “well, yes I am. Believe it or not! But I must confess that’s the first time am hearing this one, French!.”
H: “But….but you don’t look Indian, your English is so good. You name is not Indian either. What part of India do you come from?”
After giving her some details I could tell she was totally blown away by the conversation. She claimed that she has always been good at figuring out the nationalities/origins (being Swedish has something to do with this) but she failed miserably in this one. Nevertheless, one could tell that she was exhausted and soon after I saw her going for her coffee break.
It never fails to surprise me what people might guess to my origin. I have had all kinds of guesses…Persian, Brazilian, Spanish, Iranian, Mexican, and the list goes on. The most hilarious part is when an Indian doesn’t believe am an Indian. They give out the most outrageous and unbelievable expressions when they hear that I am from India.
One of these days I was having a conversation with a Greek and was telling him how I love Greek food when an Indian sitting close by jumped when I said … “I am from India” she couldn’t believe her ears and went ‘oh get outta hereee… shutuppp… ur not Indian..u don’t look Indian at all”. She said this without realizing that she claimed to have heard our conversation by reacting the way she did. Funny thing is she had spent the entire evening with me without having a clue as to what I am.
Whatever it might be: the name, the hair, the accent, the face that confuses people so much when it comes to my origin, but somehow it always makes an interesting conversation. =)