Aao, phir kare baat

Ae dil

Tu itna nazuk kyun hain

sakht vachan dilata

Aina ban yaad karata

Aur ek pyar ki nazar se

Sheeshe ki tarah toot bhi jata

Gair is baat ka nahi

Ki galat koi nahi tha

Magar yeh alfaz

Aur yeh muhobbat

Apne hi andhar aise ghut gaye

Ki rag rom main hi mil chuke

Aur jisne yeh mohabbat jagayi

Who bhi khud main reh bani

Ab Inhe apne aap se hatana

namumkin sa ho gaya

Jane anjaane main

Yeh pyaar ab nikal aata hain

Aur phir uski yaad dilata hain

Humne bhi ab jeena seekh liya

Aise ishq ke saath

Gaur karte hain ab hum

Pyaar hi to kiya tha

Aur, phir kare baat

Que sera sera.....

I am torn. Torn right down the middle of my conscience. Two halves fighting for dominance much like the devil and the angel on either shoulder. 

One wants to take an easy path out and live the life as it was, a bit open, a bit suppressed, a bit happy, a bit sad. Things go back to normal and I die a little more inside everyday. It's the easy path. Turning a blind eye to many things at home and outside, procrastinating decisions and issues for a later date hoping it will go away by itself and that I wont have to deal with it myself. Perhaps the hope that things would work out for the good if only given more time and a bit more delay. Distracting myself by this and that, the whimsical phantasies to alleviate the deep void inside. Putting on a smile because I am expected to. Not showing sorrow or pain, because I am expected to. Socialising and attending family functions, because I am expected to. All the while putting on the facade of a happy guy. Travelling, baking, sleeping, movies, binge watching on shows... anything.... just to not be able to think of things I do not want to tackle right now. Maybe it's my weakness, maybe it's how it is.... maybe.... it's normal. 

And the other half screaming out, take a stand. Do what you believe in, even if it is not the popular decision. Accept the repercussions of the same. To go against all that has been expected from me till now. Against the aspirations other people created for me. Forge my own path. And do it with the thought that you are doing what you believe is right. It may not be the easy way out. It may not be as stable. It may not pan out as you expected it. But it was your decision. You can sleep peacefully at night knowing you took a stand. Knowing you chose your own path and not the one laid down for you. Knowing that things would get ugly before it gets better (if ever). To be my own boss.

It's a decision that needs to be made. And made now. Yet I am in the doldrums. No winds of courages to push me one way or the other. This unending limbo driving me crazy with no deliverance in sight. The cowardice to chose the easy path and the courage to forge the new one equally balanced.... or equally missing. What is the right path? The right decision? Is there a right decision or only a decision?

Que sera sera.....what will be, will be. 

Souls Cry

There is an emptiness inside me
filled with a silent scream
A void pulling it all in
my life and my dream

The voice inside
screaming out
its angst and
its plea

Expectations are too many
Not all of them mine
Not enough time for all
Nor enough to feel alive

Bowed down by our cross
Nailed up by the societal walls
Dreams bleeding out of us
Seeped into treacherous mud

The soul within
screaming loud
Let me out
Let me out

Trusting People to Trustful People

A couple of days ago I booked an Uber Cab in Bangalore. The trip was a long one and we used a toll bridge to reach the destination faster. At the toll booth, as is normal I pulled out a Rs. 50 note to pay the charge of Rs. 45. As usual, the toll booth guy didnt have change of Rs. 5. The Uber driver, took 5 bucks from his pocket and gave it to the toll guy who in return gave a Rs. 10 note. The Uber driver handed me the Rs.10 note. I immediately pulled out a Rs. 5 coin and tried to give it to the driver but he...refused. He said "Its ok Sir."

This incident made me think. We think of pizza delivery guys, Uber cab drivers, Auto rickshaw drivers as people who intentionally dont keep change so that they may keep the small chances which we normally dont bother with. But there are people like my Uber Cab driver who do not behave the same way. Are we right in generalising them all? Why do we not trust those guys?

We put our lives in the hands of the drivers, the chefs, the traffic police, the maids, the pilots, the doctors everyday even if we have never met them before. Yet when asked the explicit question, "Would you trust them?", inevitably the answer comes in "No. I do not know the guy."

On the other side, many a times people we know very well are the ones who break our trust the most; Family, friends, colleagues, business partners and others. What is it that makes us trust them unquestioningly yet others, though trusty, do not have our trust? Why do they merit our trust without any such acts or deeds yet others we would not ever trust even if they have done deeds to gain trust. 

Does this trust issue arise from our instinct of self-preservation? Does it stem from Social Status divide? Or is it just us, refusing to see realty, ensconced in our own definition of trustful people? Does it stem from past experiences which have changed our judgement forever? 

Perhaps it boils down to the fact that all we need is just one incident to generalise a whole strata of society. By extension, a whole race, a whole country and a whole religion.

A close friend was someday an unknown person, whom we did not trust. Yet, we took a leap of faith and started a friendship. Why cannot we do the same with everyone? 

Of course, there are anti-social elements. Yet why do we let them define our nature rather than making us value the positives more. 

Some people are given a second chance, some even a third. Yet, we do not give some people even one chance before making a judgement about them. Is this a fault in us, our society or human kind? 

As always I have more questions and no answers......

Shall We Dance

Most of my life I have tried to have a plan for every situation, however improbable it might be. In professional as well as personal life, I have always prided myself as being "ready" for whatever comes having already hashed out the pros, cons and all possible scenarios and emotions. Due to this, I seemed to have got an attitude that "nothing can affect me a lot as whatever could have done so, I already have thought of it and prepared for it". 

Yet, I find myself today in a situation where I am unable to bring myself to terms with pieces of information I knew one day would come. I wonder why. I guess there are somethings in life you really only come to terms with when you hear others say it out loud, no matter how long you have thought about it yourself. Its as if by saying it, they have realised it. 

Especially in the matters of the heart, no matter how hard you try to get over things, they have a knack of breaking down all walls and piercing your heart in a matter of words. And you don't realise it immediately the effect of the words. It seeps into the darkest, most sheltered corners of you and bring out the emotions you had long buried, intentionally, never to have to deal with them again. And then in the depths of the night, when all is quiet, it all comes back, piece by piece and breaks you down, one tear at a time. And then you begin the process of healing again. Trying to again distance yourself and move on from places you had once left behind. 

In the melange of emotions that surrounds you, many are conflicting ones. Anger and Happiness, confusion and clarity, Sadness and Calmness. They overwhelm you. You try to hold down the fort but just so. 

I guess such is the Dance of Life. You dance with all the partners. Some are ugly and bad. Some beautiful and nice. Some dances you remember, some you wish you forgot. Some you do with muscle memory. Some you go through with passion. But in the end, you keep dancing. You keep living.

So, shall we dance again, one more time?

A Deep Sigh

We let it all out....in a deep sigh

Good times we had and times we cherished
Thoughts that faded, memories perished
A word, a sound, a place, an eye
Brought it all back, images flashed by

We let it all out....in a deep sigh

Years of pain and fears
Of lonely nights and tears
Of things to come and things that went
Things we hoped for, things we repent

we let it all out....in a deep sigh

Things I can control, things I can't
Feelings I can hold, those I can't
Succumbing to whatever future holds
Paying my obeisance as life unfolds

We let it all out....in a deep sigh

In that deep sigh, we hide a lot
Folding within, thoughts burning hot
Fears rooted deep inside
Hope and wishes to ride the tide

In that normal act of breathing out
You try to flush it all out
Banishing it all into oblivion
Trying to find a new... equilibrium

Scream & Silence

Last year I went to Spain and had the good fortune of seeing the painting of Munch titled Scream. A pretty famous painting with a figure in black with his mouth wide open as if it is screaming its lungs out and the vibrations are felt across the world. At that time, the picture merely amused me. Today, in a sort of an epiphany, the painting makes a lot more sense than it did earlier.

All of us, and I am taking the liberty of generalisation here, have many things which we wish to say out loud. Our regrets, our anger, our sorrows, our happiness etc. But rarely do we get the audience or the time for the full disclosure of it all. And so it happens, that all of us have so much to say kept within us, just beneath the surface, bursting to come out. And when the time comes, it does.

A scream, in each of its decibel, carries a different story, a new story to tell. Every pitch increase pulls out a new sorrow, a new anger, a new happiness from the hidden depths of our being and throws it out into the world to any and all to hear. Like a pressured machine having its steam vent open, full throttle, all at once.

A keen listener can make out the different stories in the scream. But what he dreads the most is the silence after the scream. The poignant, unending silence which in itself has the sharp bitterness of submission and defeat. In contrast with the loud audible screams, the silence, by its conspicuous absence, is more unnerving than ever.

Beware a man who has just let loose a scream, for now he has nothing in him to suppress, nothing in him to hide, nothing in him to restrain him. He has become free from all his inhibitions and ready for new battles with a clean slate and mind. Like a sort of cleansing ritual for the mind and the soul.

But the worst kind of scream are the silent ones. Where your stories and sufferings are so strong even Voice cannot explain them to the world. Decibels are meaningless and audience irrelevant. Those are the screams, most private and personal, reserved only for ourselves in our most vulnerable state of being,

You shed them like a snake shedding a skin and you feel anew, having been tempered in the fires of life, sharpened by the rocks of experiences and doused in the waters of misery. A rebirth of the Phoenix.