The grey manifested

The innumerable shades of grey are inescapable. I have long since accepted the ambiguities, yet the shades of grey persist to affect me. At times, it makes me feel crippled and helpless since I know there is no escape and in knowing I am letting it rule me, yet I know that the mind is the ultimate ruler and the numerous manipulations are sheer manifestations of the mind. Hence, acknowledging this fact, the power then resides within the self and yet it isn't as simple as it seems. 

Since time immemorial subjectivity has prevailed overruling  the objectivity and multiplying the shades of grey. There is no denying the fact that objectivity has limitations, giving way to subjective readings. Objectivity hence limits itself to a specific time frame while Subjectivity persists in the ephemeral. They call it values, systems, structures wherein resides subjectivity, giving way to ambivalence. There is no denying the limitations of Objectivity, yet very few can remain thoroughly objective. It is an affray against the convention, against the collectivism. Moreover it is a choice to not be trampled over by the operating forces. It is a choice to not beseech or concede to the prevailing norms and structures but a choice to supersede them. 

Ambivalence remains as it has but what one makes out of it is entirely up to oneself. There are those who choose to override it with a fortitude. There are others who are ignorant of it. There are yet others who make peace with it and then there are those who subjectively choose their objectives. As for me, I choose to live with the greys only in my escapades, where ambivalence is embraced with pleasure.

The fondest memory of my grandpa

There is little difference between an old man and a young child - this is something I've seen often due to my fondness and love for old people. For one, I find both kids and grandparents really cute, but that is besides the point. Children and old people both need love and attention. The child needs love and care to grow just like a sapling needs care to grow. Old people need love to live. The most honest and beautiful relationship is that between a child and his parents. The mother holds the child's hand and makes him take his first steps and strangely the child reciprocates the same gesture when the mother grows old. I suppose the least a child could do for his parents who literally have been responsible for giving him his precious life  would be to shower love over them when they need it the most, to care for them, reassure them and ward off their insecurities.

I've spent my entire childhood living with my grandparents and had my share of scoldings and pampering and now that they live away from me, I miss them a lot. I've always feared death of people close to me though I've never given a thought to death as an independent entity. When I met my granny in August last year, I was terrified to see her in a terrible state. She had lost so much weight, literally shrunk and her legs were sticks. She stayed disoriented and sad,not much hopeful. It upset me to see her so fragile. To think of her nearing the end and to accept it was something that seemed like a herculean effort. When I was back home I constantly worried over her and my sleep too was clouted by nightmares, waking me teary eyed. However things changed for the good. On reading a book gifted by a close friend, I learnt to let go and love as holding on only makes things worse. Letting go did not mean parting away, but keeping alive the memories. 

So when a month back when my grandpa was hospitalised, I was much calmer. I knew he would fight all odds and come back anyhow, that's how I always remembered him as. When I met him,in the initial days I was reconsidering my judgment as he also seemed fragile and weak, not talking much and having mostly non verbal communications. His expressions during those non verbal conversations were the most remarkable, especially when he liked something his smile widened up and left a spark in his beautiful bluish grey eyes (which my mom complains of none of the siblings to have inherited). Whenever I showed him his favourite song video his eyes would light up. Having spent half a month with him, I saw him in a phase that I had never seen before. Since he is an alzheimer patient, he tends to forget certain things, yet he is quite sharp for his age. He would often ask us about where to go to sleep when he would be sleepy? He looked so innocently lost and adorable. I've always found him cute with his wrinkles and toothless smile but now he looks all the more cuter. I don't remember him showing affection towards me by caressing me but in the past few days, he has been taking my hand and kissing it, caressing me and it would make me so happy. Sometimes he gave us a bit of trouble when he would behave like an obstinate kid refusing to take medicines and go for walks, for which he would be reproved by all. I would quietly witness the scene and observe him. He would be puppy eyed and I would have to curb the urge of reaching out to him and embracing him. In the process I knew and uderstood his strength and realized how easily some of his traits have been passed on to all of us. Now he has recovered completely and much of his recovery was catalysed by my granny whom he missed terribly. She longed to live with him in their own house too. It was amusing to see their love for each other and him fussing over her and now they have happily shifted to their own home,very much content to be with each other. I only wish ample of happiness for them till they live and a peaceful painless death.

Enigma

Life is a strange ongoing process, although one may not know what is happening, one is still a part of the process. What is life though?  It seems like a beautiful path with the destination unknown and when the path seems beautiful one doesn't bother about the destination. At other times it seems like an unending journey to places unknown, too tiring to keep going. Moreover life seems to possess more questions rather than revealing the answers, like a continuous riddle. I feel like a nomad without the real travelling, a nomad who travels many a mental states to arrive at some stable peaceful juncture, and yet can only long to reside there forever, but cannot live there forever. I keep walking, in search of that which makes me me but I do not expect to find my answer. I cannot comprehend the antithetical life that I lead, paradoxes with each step. Although I acknowledge the greys, the gradations seem to multiply, often making it difficult for me to separate one from the other. Seeking the truth is always painful than accepting the lie. 

Breaking away from the ideologies of the society, from the pre-destined relationships and from the daunting past is not an option because one cannot break away from it completely - a bitter truth to be accepted. There is immense unclarity over the emotions I experience. Sometimes feeling love is accompanied by pain and I often get tired of being patient, tired of trying to keep peace and eventually I wish brevity to follow everything. Sometimes I feel like I've failed somewhere to get what I should be entitled to. Soon I start realizing that I'm build of such opposites and as if somewhere deep down these already fixed notions undermine me. I cannot identify myself - what is mine and what is adapted? Or for that matter where do I truly belong or what belongs to me? With one's developing sensibilities, one tends to undergo changes and evolve as an individual but aren't the preconceived ideologies as much a part responsible for the change? 

When I think of death, I feel the same mixture of emotions. Sometimes it seems inviting, as if putting an end to all the miseries and sometimes a very gory thought filled with unfulfilled desires and unhappiness because in life one is never satisfied and never completely happy. It seems like the more I run from ambiguities, the more they tend to follow me and when I accept certain truths, I am set up against fighting other realities where eventually I am made to envelope those bitter truths as well. It is as if God knows when to play his cards well, whom to throw into the burgeoning greys and when to weigh down ambivalence over them. Eventually an escape from the mundane into the quiet, from the real to the surreal is what tugs at my heart ever so often,and yet I ponder over it instead of plunging in deep as if it were my last card to be used wisely.

Shadows

It was a dark night and I did not expect him to be there. He would never be among the people I would like to meet again in life. Not now, perhaps never ever again. It is strange to feel this way when I am fully aware of being a part of him ( a truth I cannot evade, nor do I try any more),but unlike him I have always liked to have an uncomplicated life, fighting against odds to find my bands of black and white. He came and stood next to me, looking exactly as I remembered seeing him last, but I didn't even remember when exactly was the last time I met him. They were all brief visits, none of which with even a tinge of happiness, but definitely filled with hope, rather false hope, however those too have faded, just like the scent of a fresh flower with time. Startled - that's what I was on seeing him. He smirked and said, like he always does, pretending as if the years had never passed by, " Hi bebu, how are you?" I could've believed for a moment as I always did, fooled by him that he really cares but not any more. I replied " I am fine." I didn't want to know how was he doing or maybe I did, but that was asking for too much, walking through dark alleys, the end of which nobody knew, so I decided to stay silent. He continued to smirk and I knew he will soon come up with his disturbing sarcastic remarks and he proved me right. Predicting this man all my life has been the most difficult task ever and yet it came so effortlessly now. "Having a good life? That's what you chose. A life away from me and now you don't even want to acknowledge my presence?" he said. " I gave you the choice to decide that for yourself as well as for me, but as always you seemed to be clueless about it, besides I thought it was your own decision to part ways, to which I gladly abided. Works out fine for me. Clarity. Direction. Stability as I always said", I told him. He gave me one of his mirthless laughters but I decided to not hear him any more. The more he would speak, the more it would aggravate my impatience. I had no nerve for tolerance any more, he had exhausted all of it and I had let him. His existence ceased to matter to me but his memories lingered. I said to him, " You will never change, nor do I expect you to. To each its own. I will never try to run or evade the truth. I am not a coward nor am I an escapist. Escapade has another meaning to me, unadulterated from the one you've shown me and I will hold on to that for it comprises of letting go in order to come back again but that's something I don't expect you to understand. I know I'm a part of you but there is one tiny thing that distinguishes us which makes all the difference. I live with the happy memories and you with the bad ones. I've known love and you've known possession and that's where we are two extremely different beings." 

I left him to his own and walked away, thinking to myself ....why is it that we meet people? They say there's reason for everything so what is the reason for this? ....and soon I realized it was a futile question which has always bounced around in my head, the answers to which have never been close to satisfactory - experience maybe? to know the bad to understand and appreciate the good? Fate? and then I settle for fate as the most unexplanatory answer. 

The irony of being

Life encapsulates bitter truths and sweet memories. 

Sweet memories are a haven to reside in when one wants to escape the mundane reality, moreover some of those give me the satisfaction of being my own, a matter of choice over an inevitable outcome. The pleasure of living on the edge is one of its kind, albeit with regrets, sometimes plenty of them, but then again that's how one learns. Some learn to fly falling hard, and some learn to fly easily, but falling is impending in order to fly, just as regrets are an impending truth of life. 

There are times when I like to delve into the mystical, the ethereal, for it seems an enchanted place, offering piquancy. Moreover, an outbreak is my constant lookout and yet I live a life of irony. Breaking away is never an option in its entirety sadly. There are times when I find myself dwelling deep into things that stopped mattering, things that have no relevance, things that happened as they should've and eventually leaving me to fend for myself as it should be, the only way I see life. How strange it is - reiterating into the shadows when you already know the shadow will follow you always, inseparable, like the soul from the body. 

Some truths are averted, rather hushed, though some have put an end to their mortality, complete and in tranquility, others seem to be tempestuous, incomplete, containing tales untold, the end yet unknown. My quest makes me wonder what is my chase? Or is it me on the chase?! 

The predicament

How strange it is, we as human beings are supposed to possess abilities that give us an edge over other organisms. We, for one, are gifted with the great ability to think and reason,something that others are deprived of and this invariably raises several questions in my head, such as the purpose of life! The reason we have certain abilities and qualities that other organisms don't is for a reason, a purpose and we are meant to fulfil the purpose. We all grow up believing in ourselves, in our abilities and act cautiously. We fall and we learn, we tread on cautiously, we are always having the urge for making the right choices. We question, we argue. We introspect and we eventually make a verdict, a settlement and believe we are doing the right thing and we seek happiness in the same and yet, my question is who decides what is right? We are the makers and the breakers of our destiny as they say. We decide and we comply. We act on our impulses and rationality and yet how far can we go with that? 

I am aware each individual has a different take on life, the ones who are practical would naturally feel that they are solely responsible for their own lives and the reins are in their hands, however I truly believe in something like destiny or God, an external force that plays a pivotal role in the shaping of our lives. I believe things happen for a reason and that it is not necessary we know the reasons always, it may be unfolded to us at some later stage. As children we do not have opinions of our own as we see life the way we are exposed to it by our parents, picking from our immediate surroundings, where then do we have a control over what we pick and what we make out of it? Our subconscious is the only constant companion, reasoning and morality follows later. Why, only childhood? Even as we grow up we come across certain circumstances where we have absolutely no control and feel extremely helpless. Sometimes we might have tried everything we could and yet we have nothing to ourselves except patience to hold on to while we wait for the denouement. Are we then really the best judge of our lives? 

I believe destiny and our own efforts go hand in hand, none working independently without the aid of the other. It is of course a matter of personal choice and belief but I have realized that one cannot entirely leave their life to destiny and be unanswerable for their own actions and at the same time one must not be arrogant enough to believe they are mighty having power over their lives and shunning destiny. We truly have the power to shape our lives and in the process shape our destinies, however what fateful end each of us is going to meet is something completely unknown.

Cobwebbed Reality

How pretty are the fairytales, the stories of far off lands where magic is alive. The enchanting land of fairies and goblins, beautiful princesses and charming prince, of magical creatures, of spells and potions, of granting wishes, and yet, of witches and monsters,evil forces pervading through. Silence and chaos, going hand in hand, yet a belief in goodness, in the triumph of goodness over everything evil is what holds me there. 

Reality smothers me sometimes, decadent and factitious when looked at closely. Often betwixt the resolved and the unresolved are matters that are metaphysical in nature, like intution, inexplicable, yet substantial. This journey seems to go on forever, the journey called life, inescapable. Sometimes it is a chase, the farther I go from it, the more it daunts me, drawing me nearer. I wonder why death is considered so morbid? It seems like a peaceful haven, away from the mundane life, lulled in slumber. 

Death arouses plaintiveness, while I find life full of pathos, which can never be eradicated completely. Unpredictability at every stage, the fear of the unknown, like constantly running through a maze, often coming to dead ends that hold no answers. The darkness is burgeoning and the mere sight of light is more than often misleading. Why, then try so hard to find the right way out?  Yet, the fight and the suffering that follows,all in vain.

The cobwebs I build, the mesh completely tangled

the threads I want to break away from, untangle

Because the reality is intermittent

death is the only truth, constant.

Poignant - Complacency

Rain, has a meaning different for everyone. It takes one to the reverie of some shared reclused moments, away from reality to a land far far away,to a time that held still then. Now these moments seem so far fetched, in an alien land which is out of reach and like old photographs, these memories also seem to get blurry but sometimes the memories closest to one's heart are the ones one remembers distinctly, so distinctly that even the stark reality fades away in the shadows. 

Rain, often burgeons upon one, bringing along those mighty grey clouds, showering over thunder and lightening, growing over you, belittling you in its rage and making you delve into all those things that hurt you and gave you pain, making you remember those dark times, where you never want to go back to, not in your thoughts, never in your dreams and fills your heart with sorrow.

Rain, for me brings along all the ambivalence as it promises to. The uncertainty over who outwits the other - the proud clouds by pouring over or the valiant wind by sweeping over them. It is such a tiff - literally and metaphorically. It arouses so many emotions - some that have remained dormant for long, it brings up so many unanswered questions, those that remained unanswered for the time to unfold the replies. 

Yet, through all of it I wonder how the changes affect us, how a particular thing can be dreaded by some and yet desperately awaited by some. Perhaps nature has its own strange ways to make wonders happen.

Purging the ephemeral

I always used to take life as it is,absorbed by the mundanity of it, yet planning ahead as far as my mind could take me. I somehow enjoyed the gaeity of one huge happy family, the fun of being one among the crowd. Life seemed to just go on as usual, and I had no role to play in the course of life. Soon everything just seemed to disappear slowly, a lot stopped mattering any more and I suddenly felt quite strange, quite unlike me and yet a lot like me. I realized many things, one of it being the fact that you stay the same person, the inherent qualities remaining the same, but situations change your perception on several matters.

Life, as I often say, is a journey, something that gradually started sinking in. When I think of the most beautiful journey I had, I realized that the actual beauty was in not knowing what lay ahead, the unpredictability to an extent is what makes life beautiful. The same unpredictability ironically frightens me too, especially when I've lived through it. Faith is a very vital aspect of existence, it is something that breathes life in you when you are at the fag end of life, keeping you alive,reminding you the reason of your existence. I remember when I was there, climbing up those mighty mountains, I could feel my heart beat, feel myself alive as I had never felt before. Looking down from those heights, seeing the stream flow into a river, hear the sound of gushing water and then looking up at the wide sky extending all over me, feeling the clouds closer than I could have ever imagined was frightening because it made me completely aware of myself, of how I am just a tiny, miniscule part of a vast universe. It was faith that kept me alive, as it has always. 

This long journey, involves a lot of travelling, a lot of searching, a lot of experiencing and moreover a lot of learning.

Life gives me opportunities to believe in dreams, and faith makes it possible to live those dreams. Certain things take so long to develop and require efforts to sustain while other phenomenon are so effortless and easy, so natural like the flow of water, the merging of the rivers into sea, like that is the only way to be. The moment I started looking at life as a journey, a lot changed, for the better, I learnt to let go of certain things and hold on to certain things. Eventually it is moments that make life,not the breaths I take. The ability to feel and think is what makes me, me.There is a lot to thank God for, the blossoming flowery path as well as the dry and arid path with boulders and rubble because that is when my faith is tested the most. I travel, thus, sometimes coming to a fork,deciding which path to choose, treading along, discovering all that life has to offer, sometimes through dark passages, sometimes through roller-coaster rides, alone and yet not alone.

The storms unknown

The wild, west wind, we learnt in school, blew and brought along many changes. Storms come unannounced, causing massive destruction before they are gone and then nothing stays the same ever. Sometimes the storm is needed,even Shelley admits to the fact that the west wind destroyed everything in its course of blowing, yet it made way for the new and the fresh to come to life. Storms pass but not without teaching us, although leaving us lamenting over the loss. 

It is one stormy affair - life! It engulfs you. 

Yet it leaves me with some truths unfathomable. Seeking answers has never been easy, the harder you try, the farther you are from the truth. 

Then the storm goes away, leaving behind silence, a dreadful silence but it leaves a storm within me - conflicting ends, a thought contrasting a want, a wish contrasting a reality, a desire contrasting a will, and I am torn between what I were and what I have come to become. I often wait for it to settle down but I don't realize it can be stirred again with the slightest of touch, creating a storm, volatile in nature.

Eventually it wreaks havoc, such a havoc where I'm unable to recognize my own self.

That's why they say, storms come unannounced, causing massive destruction before they are gone and then nothing stays the same ever.

Self musings

I remember as a child illusions were always so fascinating, they caught my attention. Curiosity always took me there. The unknown is more than often intriguing and inviting but not necessarily pleasant. I think in my cobweb of thoughts, I was always building illusions and chasing them, for it was quite fascinating looking at a world filled with attractive things like illusions. Then after a while they just stopped persisting for me, it was about time I realized illusions were attractive but not permanent, not real and only gave a false respite. 

Now when I live in reality, I find that life is often not what you think it is, it is a long journey, sometimes a tiresome one, sometimes an adventurous one, sometimes a happy one....sometimes predictable and sometimes full of surprises. Life never stops making me wonder what is it?!

Sometimes life is like living a dream

hazy yet so clear

intangible yet so real

happy without a tinge of sorrow

Like the feeling of helplessness...

...the feeling of love

Pondering

I often wonder if the choices I made were right after all? Most of the times they seem to be fine and I seem to be content enough for making those choices. However there are some moments, some situations that arise out of the blue and make me question myself whether whatever I did was wrong?  Then I almost believe it to be a wrong choice and then after a while, rethink over it....

I remember as a kid mom used to read out stories to me, one of the stories that I remember too well as it was read out to me several times by mom and my teacher at school and which I read myself too was the story of the shepherd who cried 'wolf'. What I and, I guess everyone remembers most vividly is the fact that when the real wolf came and the shepherd cried for help, there was nobody paying heed to him. Isn't that what happens in reality too? When you put up with lies time and again, you start finding the truth also to be a lie. 

I remember hearing mom say you can never impose love. It is something that happens and when it happens, it happens inevitably, capturing you. She always said whenever people you love wander off to the wrong path, you warn them, you stop them and if they still continue taking steps ahead in the same direction, you leave them on their own. If they love you, they shall come back to you and if they don't come back, they never loved you. Funny as it sounds, the people I loved always came back, got caught by wanderlust and were off for a while, coming back again and going off again. I wonder what is that called!?! 

....so when I ponder over the appropriateness of the choices I made, all I think is - be it truth or no truth, it shall always be a lie to me

Self musings

Every change brings along a feeling,that's novel - fear, apprehensions, hope, anxiety, excitement, happiness.

Sometimes the change is too abrupt, not giving any scope for preparation. Sometimes the change is slow and gradual and sometimes it is too subtle to be realized. There's a strange thing about changes, they change a lot of things. As funny as it sounds and as true as it gets. 

Every time the path ahead seems bleak,one needs to consider going ahead. Sometimes there seems to be nothing to move you ahead, and with an already ambiguous journey so far, one starts weighing each step ahead. Many times I think there's a child's heart still beating somewhere deep down there, which enables me to love easily and give in easily too. Life is about facing the ugly truths all the time, living with a past, parts of which one would like erasing out completely. With innumerable efforts relations are built and memories created and within seconds a void created to last a lifetime. 

There's so much that has changed around me, and , about me and yet a lot is still the same. Initially it was quite a task to recognize what is me from the fragments scattered all around. Now I've realized each fragment has me within. Change takes place, changing the course of life as it must happen, leaving one with a realization. It almost seems like a story book, chapter after chapter, one after another, twists and turns, climax and conclusion....

Voids don't only exist when you lose a person, they also exist when you lose a relation forever. When things can never stay the same any more, when memories cannot be summoned at or erased out at one's will, when you reach a point of numbness  and indifference in the conscious stage and yet your dreams seem to know your heart better, it is then, you know a void exists. 

....and yet, nothing is like a story book. Story books have predictable stories and hopefulness or hopelessness , having happy endings or sad endings but life, is never predictable. It is a long, long journey, to an unknown destination, the destination always changing with time, as the path keeps changing too. Yet, I believe in fairy tales, that convinvce me to believe in love, goodness, hope, and faith. Somehow, strangely enough, life eventually comes down to the most simplistic path, after a long arduous journey full of complications. 

Entangled

It is such a beautiful feeling, having something entirely to your own self, like the only strength against all odds. Is it possible though? There is always a thread connecting people and situations, creating associations and building relationships. The same thread over which nobody has a control. 

Origin is a creation of some phenomenon, it can never happen by itself like some miracle. Isn't it strange that before we are born, our destinies are decided, relations are already made? Then we just have to live with all of it, we are brought up with pre conceived notions until we grow up and decide whether we want to take it further or stop right there. Throughout your life you put up with destined relations, having little choice to choose, even the basis of the choices made are coloured....eventually there is nothing that is your own. However I think there is a thin line difference there. I think there is control that you can exert even if it is a wee bit,there are changes accompanied with growing up. Not only people but even situations change the way we perceive, the way we think. Of course everything is eventually associative and relative. 

Even while thinking about this I feel there are the never ending shades of grey that are perpetually existing, sometimes very subtly and sometimes hovering over. To reach the point of differentiation between the black and the white is a struggle within itself and then once you are there you feel was it worth it? Sometimes towards the end the shades of grey that you hated are the ones you perhaps get used to and decide to live with and sometimes you just feel the choice to have the blacks and whites a tough one in spite of the efforts to get there. 

Life is, nothing but strange, surprising me time and again. Many times I wish for a miraculous origin,detached from any strings and wonder how strange life would be then! Yet, when I think of some of the most beautiful memories I've been able to build through things that were destined, I wonder if I would have them again? Or if I would be me again with a miraculous origin, without any pre-conceived notions and associations! The possibilities seem limited but somehow I've realized that the thin line differentiating the two worlds doesn't exist profoundly and how can it even exist? For making choices and destiny go hand in hand. Bliss can be promising when perceived well. 

Sometimes it is a bane and sometimes a boon to live life as destined, though the option of making choices is always there,but I continue to search for that thin line of difference,no matter how thin it is.

Much ado about black and white

"Life was simpler back in childhood" - it is something that we all would admit to for some reason or the other. Some of us feel the demanding work absorbs us and we miss on to the important things in life, others think of the freedom and innocence of childhood which is lost on reaching adulthood. While there are still others who are tired of the complexities of life and want to escape it by becoming a child again. Have we ever wondered how big a small problem seemed to us back then? I remember once while coming home from school,I lost my handkerchief on the way and I sobbed on my way home. Now it is easy to think of those little troubles and laugh at the trivial issues that were the cause of those precious tears. 

I have never regretted any phase of growing up. They say you must accept ageing gracefully,which I always have because somehow I've never found anything to wail about that is now bygone. Missing some things is quite obvious but there is always something else that life has in store. Moments come and go and you never come to know where they fleeted. Moments turn into precious memories with time. The time that is gone is like a loss in some way, a loss that creates a void which in turn doesn't allow the same moment to repeat. Looked at it this way, voids seem like selfish beings,saving the best. Voids preserve precious moments, freeze time in those moments,moments which you always want to look back at and cherish. What if there were no voids and there was room for time to repeat itself,moments to form patterns? Would these moments be any precious? 

Well I do believe life was simpler back in childhood in the context of people and relationships. Back then things were ordered,people fell into order almost automatically. My world was divided into a sharp contrast of black and white. There were fewer people circling around my life and thus emotions and attachments were easy to cope with. The first time life offered me shades of grey,i seemed to be a fallible kid. I was shocked by the abruptness of life. When you have accepted certain ideas and build your world around them only to realize later that it is simply illusions that you were chasing,it is the most shattering experience ever. 

             As you grow older,your horizons tend to expand,making space for more people and newer relations. Attachments and detachments toy around,society starts dominating your thoughts. This in turn calls for more complexities in life. Now your world isn't as simple as black and white but includes a lot many ambivalent shades of grey. Whether to stay glum and desolated with the grey towering over you or to accept it as an inevitable part of life is upto each of us. The most complex of complexities that i seem to be facing is subjectivity and relativity. Somethings as I mentioned cannot be measured in two contrasting colours and what becomes an important part of it is your take on things. What often happens is that we tend to get influenced a lot by people's opinions of ourselves and as a result our own opinions get coloured. Well it isn't always a bad thing. Sometimes change of opinion is healthy if it is for a good reason but who decides the good and the bad? It often gets really confusing to know the right from the wrong due to the relativity each situation offers. Sometimes there are rigid two ways to a situation either they are universally made or based on your strong beliefs but most of the times it is upto us to create a belief and take a stand and stick to it with conviction. Decision making is a tough job and to add to the trouble is the dispute of whether to stick by it or to change your mind with time and experience! There isn't a conventional answer to most things in life,for me it eventually comes to following my belief which has withstood time. It isn't easy still,it never has been. I still tend to falter but I don't fall and that is what matters. Life has always been a process,a slow and gradual process of growth,of learning. You never seem to have had enough,never seem to have learnt enough and thus to end the process God created death,a strong end to something which otherwise would've continued on and on for eternity.

A page from the diary

People often say that time heals wounds and that one needs to be patient,that time is the best medicine for everything,that time will show us where life will lead. Well I've learnt to be patient,something that time has only taught me but now I feel like my patience has been exhausted. We are often asked to change with time - "go with the flow" which some people find really difficult to do as they are bound by their own limitations of a self made world of inhibitions and norms. I remember as a kid I've never been open to changes or atleast that is the picture that mom has always been giving me. Whenever I was asked for something,my answer would be a sharp NO. I guess over time it had become an autonomous answer for me for most of the things and then developed into a habit without realization. Stubborness is something that goes parallel with me and yet surprisingly I can be very flexible for certain things.

                      Change is good,it opens doors to novelty which in turn gives way to experience and leads one to explore and eventually decide. I think while growing,there is a lot happening at once. Although it seems like a gradual process,it does have some amount of turbulence and eventually we all learn to accept changes and make room for adjustments. However I believe that certain things do not change over time - no matter how old you get! For me,everything that was intimate to me since childhood has stayed the same so far,maybe the order of their priority has changed now. An important part of growth are relations. I've always looked at relatioins as plants. When you build a relation it is out of a seed sown which gradually grows into a sapling and then into a healthy plant. Love is something you develop over time and relation is what grows gradually,this is a natural flow of germination for me and anything against it simply disrupts everything and seems most unacceptable.

                                              At times I get so possessive about my ideal world that I tend to go against the flow of the conventional ideals. Sometimes the abrupt jolts tend to make me stutter because I'm not prepared for it,not prepared for the real. Sometimes ending something forever is better than coming to terms with reality. When a certain thing does cease to exist,it gets easier to cope than to deal with the complexities it offers otherwise. Maybe it is an escape,an elopement with your ideals but for now atleast it seems like the best way out.

Endings...

I've never believed in endings to end. Somehow the word appears as a strong,obdurate,immobile boulder to me. Every ending leaves behind something daunting- however big or small it may be! When a person dies,your relation doesn't come to an end. You always tend to keep them alive through memories because it is the innate human behaviour. When you end a relation with somebody,you don't cease to think about them whether consciously or sub-consciously.

Sometimes I feel life is very complex with emotions and attachments,the sole elements responsible for making life beautiful. So ironical! And I set off wondering if it is possible to lead a life with no ends-no thoughts of past dangling? Can you really do that? How cautious can you be with your emotions? Can you always use them sparingly for the right people? Then the whole idea of the perfect life with no regrets,no ends that appealed to me earlier,seems revolting now paradoxically. It is akin to taking care of a glass which may break at any moment. This reminds me of a previous experience where I wished to be a goldfish so that the past could not last. I envied the fish for it's memory and the ability to retain so little. I saw it as a route to escape some of the past experiences but then it does not eliminate selectively. As I plunged in deeper I realized that it is due to what I've had earlier that I am what I am today. It is a similar situation again- treating life as a glass,being cautious at every stage,I ask myself is it worth it? Is it worth going through all the pain inorder to save myself from pain? Someday the glass will break beacuse it has to. It is the way of life. 

Endings, thus will happen,giving way to new beginnings,but they will always leave you with something to hold on to - a thought,a question, a doubt, a hope, a feeling, a realization or memories.

The most beautiful journey so far...

As I set off to Himachal for the trek,I was absolutely blank...I had no idea what was in store! Never thought what was i set out to conquer! All I knew was I feared the mountains and I had to overcome it somehow. Initially I was carrying a baggage of attachments,emotions and relations that we all are bounded by in our routine life but once I reached there,I was lost,so lost in seeing my surroundings. I don't know what to call it- mesmerizing? captivating? but suddenly it was only about me and my surroundings. Nothing else mattered. 

                                                   While we were on our way to Kasol over the ghats,I experienced this strange feeling. I remember,the first time I met my twin neice,they had just learnt how to walk,they could barely talk and one of them saw me and ran away into a corner and hid herself. She would come back,give me a mischeivous smile and again hide. I soon realized it was her way of inviting me to play with her. Over the ghats I saw a stream flowing at some places and hiding at other places. In an uncanny way it reminded me of my neice n I felt like this was the stream's way of inviting me and as if the ghats and the tall trees there were on it helping the stream hide.Everything looked so happy and content with itself and with each other.

Throughout the way I was very curious to know from where the stream originated and where was it heading to!But on reaching Kasol I realized that there was an air of uncertainty. Uncertainty has always been something that I"ve hated but here even the uncertainties were pleasant and took me by surprise.While sitting at the banks of Parvati River I pondered over the origin of the river and suddenly a cold wind gushed towards me,this kept happening in intervals and my gaze went up to the snow capped mountains in the distance. I soon realized the origin of the river to be a glacier. The weather there was also uncertain-while the Sun shone bright at times,within seconds it would get cloudy. For me it was all new and I continued looking upon all of it with the curious,avid eyes of a child.

                                                                        On our way uphill,through the beautiful meadows and forests one could hear the sound of the flowing stream which was apparently the most beautiful sound there. Sometimes at night from inside the tent I would hear the stream flow and the sound would put me to sleep. In my dreams I would hear the waves of the sea break on the rocks only to get up in the morning realizing where actually I am! 

                                       Sometimes I experienced this overwhelming feeling,especially when we went to our second campsite. The only view from there were the snow capped mountains. Sitting in the tent seeing the snowfall was an experience in itself. It looked like the clouds were there to protect the unclothed mountains while they were donning clothes in the form of snow and then slowly the clouds would shift post snowfall while the Sun would shine bright over the mountains as if to emphasize on the snow that they are clad with.At night the sky was so clear and the stars and the moon shining so bright. They all felt so near. Sometimes it was a larger than life experience for me. I felt so tiny with my surroundings so mighty.

                                                                                    Meeting the lovely Horses and the flock of sheep,listening to the chirping of the birds and the flowing stream,seeing the lush greenary around always gave a feeling of warmth.There wasn't a moment of panicked remoteness.For me the best part of the trek was always the path than the destination. What lay ahead was always a surprise-whether a meadow or a forest or a valley! The play of light was again ambiguous. As I mentioned before,I often felt like all of them were on it,like they were holding onto a secret. All the elements of nature knew their roles well and played them bang on time!

                        Back at Kasol,the place had its own charm. It was flooded with foreigners. I loved the cute little cosy homes in Pulga and Kasol. I say" homes" as they radiated warmth. For me Kasol was a place where at times I could go,meet new people and have my share of fun while at other times I could conveniently get into my own niche.

                          A special mention must be made for the staff. The guides,the cooks and everyone else on the staff were fantastic. Such young boys were there,making life better for us,doing their best just to make sure we were alright. I had a great time interacting with people I never knew before. It was a refreshment seeing fresh faces. I was thoroughly pampered and looked after. Infact I had one of the best Birthdays ever. There was so much to see and capture and so less time. I let my camera capture some moments as photographs and let my eyes capture some more as paintings and sketches but there was still a lot left to capture which my head and heart did and I'm sure it will remain with me forever. I came back with an emotional baggage but not the one where i was bound to but the one that let me be :)