Casual Thoughtfulness!

When a rather unusual event leaves a regretful mark on our actions, it becomes a part of our rationale. It isn’t about a single frame of event; it is relatively a sequenced exposure of our responsiveness. I guess that is what you call growth in terms of life. Experience, maturity, it doesn’t come to you without jumping into that well of horrors. Of breaking things, losing things, when you realize the fairy tale days are so over.   They never existed. Words of wisdom may be a bit more than we realized their count, but honestly, it doesn’t matter until you bang your own head into the girth. Everyday, I see a dash of a young innocent soul dying in me. It is forbidden to carry it along as I cross my milestones. I often feel sorry for losing on that but it never hurts that much now. And that’s what I quote as my journey of unsuccessful paraphernalia. Wherein, the pain of regret ceases, potential of acceptance is at the crest and you learn to overlook your own despicable shadow. ...

In a hideous attempt to turn things around I met the mirror that reflected a riddled soul, which still remained unsolved. An overhyped culture of forgiving and forgetting made me realize an ugly truth of forbearance. It is very easy to draw the conclusion after every experiment. What we do not do is list down the sequence of events and compare the observations ourselves. Instead, what we do is leave that aside as someone else’s job. My take on this may not be a finalized judgment but a failed affluence that reverts back to the so-called self-righteous shadow. It is so rich that it engulfs that which could bring about a change. It is a matter of convenience. When I would want the bird to entertain me, I would love its chirping and when I would want silence, I would curse its melody.   We have been doing this for ages. Mood swings, turn things around, but never allow us to reach the journey’s end.   How I wish I had refuted my own persona and accepted that retort downright...

How often do we muse on those incidents and teachings that give us a lesson for life? Wisdom gathered from here and there and making it stick on forever. And seldom do we thank those fellows for bringing light to those hidden adages. I clearly remember that day; it was rather uneventfully consequential day of my life. A father figure told me to make the most of the choices that come my way. Having said that, he emphasized, “Communication is the key”. Those words, still ring in my ears. In that short span, right in that moment it became a phrase associated with me for good. But then I never looked back and thanked him. I never realized how he managed to guide me for the rest of my life. If I now brood on, thirty years seem full of teachings by those god-sent men (at least for that moment). And I wonder how many such people helped me be what I am today. I am so sure; we all must have learnt something or the other even from tiny little needle to that n bristled toothbrush....

I have always insisted on release of anger, letting go of those feelings that bind you, hold you in abeyance. Seldom do people realize, how important it is to move on in life. The whole crux of life is learning and moving on, marching to wisdom. Different people formulate different meaning to it. To some it means perfecting the imperfect, to a few it is changing what ought to be changed, and to the rest it is a plain way of going with the flow. Perfection, bound to the family of discipline, is often overdramatized. Imagine a world with all perfect trees, a single height and number of leaves, with each leaf of a particular shape and size, pointing in a single direction! Absurd! Flustered! Yes, it is that imperfection of things that make them acceptable at large. Nature in itself teaches us this very simple phenomenon. The key is to move on once you have procured the state of perfection, once you have learnt the art of attaining the resultant. The next step is to ...

Amidst the darkness I smeared like a river It was cold and I was alone Yet I resisted the shiver Did I forget thy road to recover? Indeed! So profound was my vision I ran away from malice and awry What I saw elicited derision I could not find solace in my own secret place Oh come on!! Sing along Sing me that old song Let the bells ring Let the music play Drag me to the mist Undone me from skipped tryst Rebel! Rebel! Shouted the monk He was angry, he was furious It was the pain of walking along He could not sing, he could not dance He could not even raise the palm He had his own regrets and qualms! Plunge! Plunge! Said the frog Come float with me in this rain Leave behind those heavy logs Think besides being insane or sane You have to let go all that pain! Take off! Take off! Cried the hen I left the farms to take a flight I ditched those greedy men Here, I came to the world of delight Like the feathers of my tail, Ain...

“Ouch!! That hurts… Am I that old! Do I really look like an Aunty! “ Well that’s the reaction of a very normal woman, surviving on the wrong side of twenty five, already dealing with the mid life crisis. Comes a stage in everyone’s life, when you are, irrespective of your age or profile, addressed as an Uncle or an Aunt. Sounds sophisticated and relatively adult! But on a very serious note, it purely cuts the heart when you hear that on yourself. Remember the notoriety of adolescence, when we deliberately called out such names to pass comments or laugh out loud. Well! It now strikes back, albeit turning tables. Honestly, those were milder days. People were sensible enough to accept and adore whatever the phase was. To that generation, which I slyly address as “The Sandwiched Generation”, was kind enough to overlook such tantrums and move on bigger issues of life. Haphazardly, ours "The Secondhand Generation” is never too keen about adjustments. We call ...

Many a times I tend to think about the number of emails my inbox can really hold. What would happen the day it goes beyond the limits and I start losing data? How would I survive such a discrepancy? I had once read somewhere, if we get rid of some of the un-used, random mails from our inbox, we can save the environment. Reason being, we would then need less storage devices in the virtual world. With technology strengthening its footings each day, we are now in the world of cloud computing and what not. We can simply play with all our data over the net, without needing to save it on our hard disks. So if we keep deleting the random stuff, we would save some storage space. This would indirectly lead to lesser power consumption, and hence the heat evolved, thereby controlling the temperature. This is one way to help save the planet. If we really look at our emails, text messages, and other such things, we are actually hooked on to them. We cannot delete them; we...