Author: absinraw

  • SHEEP IN THE BIG CITY

    I just have 15 minutes before the clock strikes 12 and your B’day starts. So I am pretty rushed because, duh! time crunch.

    This is the first time ever that I am directly addressing you in any of my posts, so well that’s a first. Congratulations Ms. Sheeba Faruqui for getting this far! Now this time of the year has never usually been a, I dare say, favourable time for our “Frenemy” relationship. It’s the time for everything to go south, haywire and mayhem. Utter chaos.

    It’s been 21 years since we first crossed paths, 19 years since we actually have been near each other, 16 years since we started a mutually acknowledging relationship (based on utter dislike), 11 years since a friendship was moulded into an ever-changing shape, something which is still hard to decide how it looks.

    Now, you are the most intelligent girl I’ve come across. But your true strength has always been the amount of labour you put in in-spite of it. The clarity of your goals, your thoughts, the way you want your life, that has always fascinated me. Maybe because I’ve never been so driven. But same is the reason for my respect towards your zeal and efforts. We can fight over the most stupidest of things. Sometimes we don’t even try to understand each other, where we are coming from. But that has never stopped me in acknowledging the importance you have had, in one way or the other.

    Now I am already 5 minutes up, and this blog in itself is filled with the references directly aimed at you. So I have no clue as of what I could possibly gift you that would justify the bond we have had since these 21 years. So I would say the words which I don’t think I use very often.

    Thank You.

    Thank you for being the person you are. Because it has made me the person I am.

    Wishing you a very Happy B’day. I hope God blesses you with everything you ask Him of. And gives you the strength, to ask Him for anything you want.

    By the time I am ending this, it’s been 25 minutes late. I know you don’t care. Still, efforts count, right? 😛

    Now bring a smile to your pumpkin face and be happy, as I won’t be doing cliched things like calling you or texting you.

    This post though, is solely for you. 🙂

     

    P.S. Did you notice how we use Him for God? I think I’ll start using Him/Her from next post onward.

  • LITTLE THREADS OF SEPARATION

    SEPARATION – (noun) the action or state of moving or being moved apart.

    That is how the dictionary defines the word. But the beauty of it is what meaning it holds, even without a particular context. There itself lies the irony of it. A detailed discussion with a friend today suddenly made me realize the importance this word has held in my life. It has been a great teacher. That is why I treat both, the teacher and its teachings with reverence.

    Love, is like a fabric. Not a silk one, that’s just how you picture it. In reality, it is a fabric with the irregular texture, comprising of patches and holes. Some area of it seems worn out and the other feels quite new. Sometimes the fabric feels like a second skin, whereas at other times you realise that it just doesn’t fit your taste.

    Separation, thus can be compared with the cut placed on the bundle of this fabric you own, each time a piece is taken out of our life.

    My grandmother passed away when I was 14. I remember clearly, how my brain simply found itself unable to process the reality. I still feel that this statement lacks the ability to justify the depth of my inability to get in terms with it. Your parents always love you and have faith in you, same as mine. But Naani was a person who made me feel that there was a hidden power inside me, something about which I am still not aware of. In her eyes, I was the epitome of a good human being, brimming with possibilities. Even today, whenever I face a situation which leaves me clueless and raises questions at myself, the memory of my reflection in her eyes gives me an immense boost of confidence. It makes me believe, that I’ll definitely be able to come up with something somehow.

    My love towards her was the piece of fabric that had been cut a long time ago. Strangely, the cut was so clean that by the time I could comprehend her loss, the separated piece had already woven itself with my conscience in the form of an unlimited reserve of confidence based on her belief in me.

    But the transition is not so smooth each time. Not every piece of the fabric called love is cut with such finesse. On the contrary, most of the cuts just refuse to be neat. The struggle through which the pieces go when cut off, is clearly visible, not only on them but on the entire bundle itself. At times, the fabric is unwillingly torn apart into these pieces by others. In any case, what we end up with is a tattered piece of fabric, giving away loose threads from its edges. Unrequited love, unfulfilled love, incomplete love, failed love, these all are samples of the above-mentioned tattered piece. They are the ones which deteriorate over time, as the threads of the separation loosen up and disintegrate the fabric each time it is used, be it in as a memory, or a reference.

    However, these odd pieces, putting their threads of separation at the display, are the ones which have also taught me about the importance of the two key things. Acceptance and Closure. I cannot dare say that I have come even close to embrace either of these. But yes, I do accept the fact that they are the key to put the odd pieces into better use. Maybe weave them together to create something new altogether. A blanket of love, ending up the way love is, imperfect. A reminder of all the components that have been involved in the making of it. Maybe that will aid in finding a continuous piece of fabric that is constantly being used and doesn’t need to cut till eternity. Or it will just teach us how to cut it cleaner; cuts after cuts after cuts.

    Hence, Acceptance and Closure themselves are the sewing machine to stitch close the loose ends of the tattered piece of the fabric. They give a final definition to your complex feelings. They try to even out the torn edges, give it a seam maybe, to preserve them as a standalone memory. So you end up with the ability to recollect the old and once familiar warmth of the fabric, without the baggage. I just wish if the world was so ideal.

    These machines are quite costly. And no, you cannot just throw money to own them. The currency they deal in involves a combination of patience, empathy and most importantly, love. Sometimes they ask for self love, whereas in other cases, just the respect towards the love which once existed, irrespective of the presence or absence of its traces around. People who can shell out this cost with the blink of an eye can be deemed uber rich, marking less than 0.01% of the total human population. Normal people like us take our time, first to assess if the machines are worth it, because it will take a lot of time emotionally to collect the droplets of all three for it. Then some more, to actually go through the process.

    The sadly honest part is, majority of us decide against it. We decide to get rid of the piece itself. Why bother spending so much? Why put so much efforts to save something which is no longer a part of you? Let it rot or wither away and get lost in the passage of time. Even better if you could shove the piece of fabric in the other person’s throat and let them choke on it. Ain’t it convenient to blame others for what went down? “Chuck it and move forward” ranks in as the second best option. However I feel if you could go through the second option, we might not be talking about the same fabric altogether.

    Another lesson I have learned from separation is the beauty of a relationship. I learned to see it and appreciate it. Separation does that to you. You learn to understand the intricacies of a close knit relationship, and to respect it for what it is. I know that the word relationship in itself restricts the imagination to a limited examples in your life, but look wider. The truest essence of what an ideal separation is, could be found in your childhood memories.

    Your best friend when you were 6, do you have any clue where they are or what are they doing now?
    If yes, are you still in contact, in touch anyhow?
    Yes again?
    Then are they still your best friend?
    It’s most probably a no.
    Did you forget the person?
    No.
    The memories you had with them?
    As clear as they come.
    What happens when you tap into them?
    You end up feeling warm, nostalgic. You are completely aware of the fact that these days will not come again. Maybe you would like to revisit them together someday. But you don’t bet on it. You accept them for what they were, what they meant to you then and now, acknowledging their place and importance in your life.

    That’s how separation should ideally be. But we don’t live in a perfect world. I hardly think that the separations you will go through would end up even close. However, as the lines of one my all time favourite song goes –

    You’d have to walk a thousand miles
    In my shoes, just to see
    What it’d be like, to be me
    I’ll be you, let’s trade shoes
    Just to see what I’d be like to
    Feel your pain, you feel mine
    Go inside each other’s mind
    Just to see what we find
    Look at shit through each other’s eyes

    Because the most crucial thing which you must always remember is, the fabric called love gets cut in pairs. It’s never just about your bundle. These little threads of separation are possibly the only thing common left. Savour it.

  • FRIEND ON A SUNDAY

    Hi Friend on a Sunday,

    Sorry for being such an ass, but since you know I am an ass, that makes it okay. I had been thinking of so many people, to whom I could write a letter. But I ended up at you.

    Maybe because I needed to talk to you the most. You always complain that I never call you or contact you. That you are not sure if I even think about how you are doing sometimes. So first thing I would like to clarify with this letter is that, I do. I know what you have went through. I pray to God that nobody should go through similar agony and turmoil. I know what we burn with, is not how the world looks at us, but how we look at ourselves.

    Anyway, bottom-line, my lack of contact is not due to me being wrapped up in my own world. The distance which you feel is not because I don’t care or am tired of caring, but because I want to care. It is a safety cushion for me. That tomorrow when things go south in my life, it could be contained. People say, friends can help each other through all thick and thin. That they are the people with whom you can be your most shameful self and they’ll accept you.

    We both know that proportionality of the vulnerability is directly related to the amount anyone opens themselves up. And I trust you, but I don’t trust myself.

    I don’t think if you realise, that the stakes have been highest with us. I cannot afford to gamble here, do a little bit of experimentation. Our friendship is 20 years old. And it is a constant one. We have seen every single phase possible of each other. That is the concrete basis of my belief, that you’ll survive anything that comes in your way. However, just remember that whatever doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger. But it does shatter your emotions. It starts from the zigzag broken edges, as with each hit, the crack travels a little more towards the center.

    You know when there is an uproar in any of our lives, we have our own way of dealing with it. Trust me when I say, I am more at ease when you are in a good space and I am in shitty situation, as compared to the opposite. Because I can handle my shit in some way or the other, but I cannot do so on your behalf. Moreover, what if my shitty response gave you a shitty idea which shat over an existing shitty situation?

    Too much shit all over.

    Now that we are clear on where we are coming from, I’ll start the actual letter.

    I was just thinking about some incidents that happened when we were kids. This was somewhere in 4th standard, when we evolved from pencils to pens. When bhaiya used to come to Johny’s house for taking drawing classes. So, my mom sent me to take those.

    I bought those fancy scented wax colors, the one with the heads of those superheroes, and a brand new sketch book. I was quite excited that I’ll get to learn something new. What he made me do, was copy one of Johny’s drawings, color by color. And man I was pissed. Since then we have mutual respect for each other, I guess.

    You ratted me out once when I bunked school to go to Manish Bhaiya’s  PS2 parlour. To take revenge, I changed all the moves of your default player Stone Cold Steve Austin to a female wrestler’s. You got your ass handed the next time you came to play. Though that would have been the result otherwise too.

    Knowing me, me forgetting about you should be the least of your concerns. However we are in a space, as opposite as possible, to the kind of future we imagined. Our past selves would have definitely been shocked, and bombarded us with all sorts of questions about what went wrong. And those jerks could be nasty and ruthless. We need to set things right, by bringing ourselves on the right track.

    The person who didn’t use to give or take shit from anybody else, should not be questioning their interpersonal skills now, when they need to be the person they always have been. People get misjudged all the time. People don’t get the second chance they thought they deserve, plenty of times. Open up any history book and start reading. The difference between the names you’ll find in the book and the ones you don’t, is what they did after that.

    As far as I am concerned, no I haven’t figured it all out. I am probably a bigger disappointment to my past self than you could ever be. But I think I have started to make my peace with it. Instead of thinking about where I should have been, what I deserved, I am more on the lines of where I am and how to make the best use of it to reach what I think I deserve. So that I could just get away with a tap on my head by my past self.

    It’s our individualistic journey. We can be of limited help to each other, but I believe that if any of us does good, it triggers the best in the other too. We never have been competitors, but team mates, who ultimately score for the team.

    I can continue writing for an eternity and still there will be topics left. That’s how long it has been and the kind of content I have accumulated over time. But maybe for some other letter, some other reality check.

    –Your Friend on a Saturday,
    Abhinav

     

     

  • HACK TO LIFE: Work in Progress

    Time never stops. The world around us, it never comes to a halt. At times it may feel like it has, usually when something bad has happened, be it on a personal or universal level. But the flow of time which tends to be frozen, has just been slowed down in perspective to your fast paced lifestyle. It reminds me of the saying true to its essence – “This too shall pass,” which cheekily highlights the undertone of the two extremities this statement stands for, tying together with one fate.

    This has always been the bottom line of everything your life stands for, even if you realize it or not. Even if your unconscious consciousness hints you at it, or your subconscious alertness pokes you as soon as you start getting cozier than the allowed threshold. Whatever we are going through, it won’t be the same forever. So, theoretically, either we need to live in the moments. Or, we need to construct our life in reference to our favorite moments, so that the chances of us living in the similar moments or situations increases. As I said, theoretically.

    Practically, the first theory is plausible. It’s quite straightforward to be honest, following the principles of “The whole world is your Oyster”, “Life is full of endless possibilities” etc. You live in the moments, for the moments, one moment at a time. Lucky bastards.

    The second theory, is the default mechanism instilled in my being. Each life which I have ever been touched by, has been stored in the form of a memory in the intricacies of my brain. I have never been able to figure it out how it works, but these memories have always been an active guidance system. They have been the prime beacon which alerts me when the situation starts feeling familiar. The layup to something good, or not so good. Therefore, I experience the occurrence of Deja vu quite frequently.

    Theoretically, this should be a better system. Because the selective nature of this theory should only give birth to close and personal experiences, while keeping away more casual and time consuming ones. Ironically, that in itself is its primary fault.

    When you only react to selective people, who give you a certain vibe, you are exposing yourself to a very tiny fraction of people who pass by you. So, as you keep moving ahead in life, the filter becomes narrower. The closeness is something you don’t feel easily as it turns out to be an exclusivity, or rarity. And if you end up getting a hint of it, you latch on to it.

    This theory is contradicted by the practical aspect of it. Even if the Deja vu is the guidance system based on the reference memories, what it actually seek are similar possibilities. The possibilities and situations might feel similar, but the most important decisive factor, the human factor, is often forgotten. Even if the presence of a person or a group of people makes you feel familiar, good, warm… ultimately they are not the same people. Though, it is not a bad thing at all. Exposing yourself to different and new people brings in new experiences. And in many instances, that leads to the diversification of the narrow filter. The initial comfort is converted into new experiences, new memories due to same reason. That even though the feeling of Deja vu existed, they are not the same people, resulting in different end results.

    The problem lies in the memories too powerful. The memories which start overshadowing the reality. In this system, the memory doesn’t fade away. It doesn’t get corroded. The background noise in it might be removed, to make it more compact, but the essence of it remains intact, so is the person associated. Hence, each time a powerful memory is overwritten, there is no doubt that the new version is stronger than the reference memory. Giving birth to a new reference memory, harder to overwrite.

    In simpler words, memories, like the feeling of love, which always will be unique, are the toughest nut to crack. Even if you feel the similar vibes again and they are not strong enough as to what you have already felt, it just won’t work. On the lucky side, friendship doesn’t get much affected, as you could have multiple friends at a time, even if they are not as close to you as the closest friend you got.

    Another societal downside to this entire theory, is the communication. Every memory is stored in the brain, like a video stored in your computer hard drive. You just need to click on it to play it. Sometimes, you forget the location where you saved it, but if you ever accidentally stumble over and play it, it will seem like as if it just happened yesterday.

    One way or the other, if you have ever touched my life, your clip is present with me. Not all of them would be of same quality. Some clips might be of few seconds and some would be a feature film. But the gist of it is that I don’t forget people. More like, I can’t forget people. Who has left what kind of impression in how much time, is completely out of my hands. You might think I don’t remember you, or have forgotten you because we haven’t talked for ages. I can’t even explain how wrong you are, as you are always a click or a stumble away up in the brain. However, it is just the perceptional problem.

    The real pain lies in the fact, that the people whom you owe some of the most powerful memories till date, now cease to exist in your life. When the memories which are a major part of your psyche, turns into hollow references. When each comparison leads to them, only ending up into realization that the shoes are too big to fill. And time, well it keeps ticking.

    I wish there was a corrective measure, which could scrap the distance between the theory and practicality of this idea. Otherwise the entire cycle of being stuck in a Deja vu would slowly eat away the happiness, the memories were supposed to be a referential guide to. Because I’ll always prefer living for the moments, rather than living in them. Optimism also has the undertone of the two opposites- boon and curse, tied together with one fate.

     

     

     

    Image Courtesy:
    https://media.giphy.com/media/XN8pBJ6HrLTOM/giphy.gif

     

     

  • V-DAY: To be or Not to be

    Valentine’s day is around the corner once again. The marketing gimmick laid down by the modern-day cupids has already been started a week ahead of it. You have to go through the rigorous cycle of different days, dedicated to specifics. I mean, Rose day is the only day that can actually be defended if attempted, that it makes sense.

    First of all, celebrating just one kind of love is in itself a mockery of love. Love in any form should be celebrated if you want to celebrate any festival as such in the first place. I don’t know if St. Valentine wanted everyone to celebrate love in just one dimension. Like, if someone would have asked him if they could celebrate the love they feel towards their family or friends on this day, he wouldn’t have plainly refused. I don’t think he was aware that in the later centuries we’ll have specific days to celebrate love towards our mother, father and friends. (Do we have a sibling’s day?)

    It is safe to say that St. Valentine’s motive was to celebrate the love in its purest form, not just an element of it.

    Coming back to the modern layout, the road to valentine day, these specific days are hilarious in themselves. If we take the modern idea of V-day into consideration, the love we celebrate has just two components-  the two people in love with each other. Now, keeping every other “day” away just for a second, “Teddy day” is the one that makes the least sense. Statistically, the majority of these couples celebrating V-day are a female and a male, and trust me that the number of males getting a teddy on a “Teddy day” is pretty scarce, because this day is designed for females. Hence, I think that there must be a female brain behind the idea of introducing this entire Valentine week concept.

    Or a company who makes teddy bears, chocolates and other relevant gifts. Maybe a female CEO of such company! (Conspiracy theory)

    Apart from the ruining of a genuinely warm idea of celebrating love by some corporate marketing strategy everyone succumbs too, there is another aspect to it which is even uglier, and limited to our great nation. The group of people against celebrating the festival of love. They are the people whom I have always kept as my Plan-C, in case I had to opt for a runaway wedding. Just walk publicly with the girl you want to marry on V-day and lo! You’ll be married to her before you even know it. Even family members won’t be able to say anything as you can push the blame on these really nice, socially helpful and responsible people. Yeah, there is a good chance that you’ll get beaten and your face will be blackened, but then it’s better to have a set of pissed off parents for the rest of your life (Saasu Maa and Sasur ji).

    There is also this amazing community called “the Singles”. These bright and lively people look forward to this day the most, so that they can dread it. They prepare themselves with the curses they would dedicate to the couples on this auspicious occasion, along with the usage of social media to condemn it to hell. They sit at their home because the sun is too bright outside, stock their fridge with Chocochip Ice-cream and their laptops with Rom-Com movies, weaving dreams of being on the other side of the rope next V-Day.

    I may or may not belong to this category.

    On a sincere note, the idea of celebrating love on just one specific day is weird. If you are in love with someone, why would you wait for a specific day to express it when it exists 365 days around? (You can take an off in the leap year) You will love them even if it’s not 14th of February. You will give them gifts not because there is a specific day for it, but because you feel like doing it. A specific lineup shouldn’t tell you the order in which you ought to do things for your loved ones, specifically for hugs and kisses 😛

    Valentine’s Day should exist, not for the people who are in love, but for those who are not accustomed to it, who have been deprived of it, who need it the most. It should be dedicated to make them feel the warmth of love, to give them hope. In this world, full of complexities, a simple gesture of love holds the power to solve the tangles in people’s heart. There is much more to this day and the intentions of St. Valentine. Sometimes, we need to read between the lines. Let’s try to introduce love this time, in a life which needs it. You’ll get to know how the purest form of it feels.

    Cheers to love!

    –X–

    OK, I admit. After going through the rant above again and again, it does sound stupid. It’s not bad to express the love you feel. To have a day as a reminder for the little things which remain unspoken usually. To dedicate at least a day solely for the feeling which you usually are afraid to even admit. And it’s not even necessary to believe in this day itself. To each his/her own.

    Frankly speaking, this day marks as a bookmark in the year, which just makes everyone aware in one way or the other of how important the presence of someone in your life is. The people bestowed  by it celebrate it, rest eat ice-cream being hopeful. I’ll try to be the third party this time who does’t even remember that such a day exists. Ignorance is bliss.. 🙂