Of "girgilla" and 'fingers crossed"

The last few posts have been a little intense and to lighten the mood I thought of writing to you about the innocence that once was. Have you seen how the kids in Junior Masterchef Australia, cross their fingers and hope and pray with every dub-dub of the beating heart that they win. It reminded me of a me that once was.

Do you remember how we used to cross our fingers, toes and pigtails even, just in the pure belief that that, would be what gets us what we want. No reasoning mattered then. We knew in our hearts, the harder you could cross your fingers and the more number of things you crossed the more your chance of getting what you wanted. I miss that faith I had in my tiny little fingers, that would with such ease overlap one another and not give way.

Remember the times girgilla was the worst that could ever happen to you? Id be mortified when the never ending game of 'tag him girgilla' would reach me. Remember how our faces would turn the darkest shade of red, and that solely would be our most embarrassing moment ever.
Remember how coloring within the lines was the hardest problem we were faced with, and how we would sit for hours and try and stay within the lines just so we could get that "star sticker" or "perfect sticker" from the teacher? And the times we did manage to get that sticker, do you remember the pride with which our chest would blow up, and the smile that lit up our entire tiny face.

Remember how cursive writing seemed like such an impossible task and how we used to concentrate on just keeping those alphabets on that straight line, for fear that it would dance about on that page and wouldn't be accepted? Remember how our mathematics books had criss-cross lines on the entire page, just to make sure we could write numbers clearly and not get them all jumbled up in one single mess.
Remember how we needed all our fingers, just so we could be able to calculate the math problem. How we never thought there would be something more difficult than that, that would meet us as 'mental mathematics'.

Remember how we din't like boys, and boys din't like us girls? How drawing a line in the center of the bench seemed to solve all the problems in the world, and how we would sit content at having been able to divide the table into exactly half. The trust with which we used to sit, in all our satisfaction that this line wouldn't let the boy cross over to our side. Remember when being sat next to the opposite sex was the second worst thing that could happen to you, and life seemed unfair. Little did we know how much that would change over time.

I remember there was this bench-partner of mine in the sixth grade, and he used to put little i love you chits in my pencil box. Every time I found this chit in my box, I would be mortified and shattered. After a while it got to me, and I took my revenge for all the 'I love yous' by smacking him with the largest textbook I had. How I wish, to find now, those little I love you notes in my pencil box.

If I could, I would have saved all my stickers to keep me grounded and know that the little things in life mattered the most. I wish girgilla was still the worse that could ever happen to people.
I would love to have the faith I did then, in knowing that crossing my fingers, would solve every one of my problems and get me what I want. I miss the times, when boys were "the enemy" and coloring within the lines my sole purpose of living. If I knew then as I do now, how difficult it is for people to give and take love, I would have saved those chits for the future me to cherish deeply.

Wear your past on your sleeve !

"I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man."-Zhuangzi

A really dear friend of mine put forth, to me, a question in all its simplicity, "When people write so much about all the things going on in the world, the surroundings they are so conscious about, why then doesn't anyone write about ones subconscious mind?"

I have pondered over it, mulled over it, and arrived at the conclusion that in order for a person to portray the subconscious mind, he should be comfortable in being with himself and absorb every thought that he feels. Not many would like to do that though, probably for the fear of not liking what they would be faced with. 

Its scary really, even for me. The thought of sitting in solace with oneself. We all run away from what makes us feel, what stirs up emotion in us, such emotion that seems alien to us, so we avoid it altogether for fear of the unknown. I've tried to sit and just be. Absorb whatever my mind wants me to. Its tough really, because for a few seconds I can feel myself channelling my thoughts, letting myself be drifted back into times forgotten. But sooner than later, it happens almost reflexively, and I'm back into the present. 

I wonder sometimes, that why do we run away from solitude? Isn't revisiting memories something that should make us happy, be it good or bad memories. Why then do I retreat from being taken into the past? Why do people say its in the past let it be, theres nothing ever good that can come from being in the past. My answer to them is,

Its your past. You have already been there once before and well guess what, you survived, so what are you so scared of to revisit it again?  

Honestly knowing where you come from, and discovering yourself is the best gift you can gift to you, from you. Everyone is too scared to dust off the surface, its not just you and me. But once in a while, take the road less taken, take time off to introspect. You may surprise yourself with what you find, for all you know you are a butterfly dreaming he's a man, and wouldn't that be splendid? Because thats the power of your subconscious mind, it will baffle you in more ways than one. Its a safe place, not a place where you have to put up your best front. It will let yourself be you. 

Revisit it, and keep revisiting it, till the time when your thoughts and experience is simply in its existence, a beautiful page in the story that you are the author to.

Would you like to read a book that has a few pages missing? Look back at your past with fondness, its the pages that make all the difference to your beautiful story.

Carry it on you sleeve, much like your beating heart because those few pages that you would otherwise bury away, make all the difference to the plot.

Before emerging from chalkboard-black-tunnels.

When I look back I feel a magnitude of fondness. For all the people who have got onto this box-like train of mine, at different stops, at different signals, and have made me emerge resplendently magnificent, through even chalkboard-black-tunnels. I miss those who got down at different stations, for reasons unknown, who packed their bags and waved goodbye, with a doleful look in their eyes. In all these years, I've been taught to look at things from other's perspectives, and even though I thought myself as a nonjudgemental being, I learned that when it came to situations new to me, I din't do anything but judge. When faced with these new situations myself, did I learn that I reacted not differently than those who I had misjudged. I have warmth for all the people who stayed in that compartment and never got down no matter what station came by. I have warmth for those who got down at a station, to empty their minds, only to get back on at the next station and fill those empty compartments with joy and happiness again.


Before emerging from the chalkboard-black-tunnels, I unwrapped beautifully packaged relations, to discover that I can love more people than one. And that every relation need not be agreed upon, as a socially acceptable one. And that, that is okay. I have felt tremendous love and affection for the tiny beings, who well are quite larger in size than me in reality, who have walked into my life, and breathed fresh air and perspective.


In retrospect, I would never take back any decision I have taken. I would always love people in my life in a gooey-mushy-hot-chocolate-fudge-way. I would always cherish every person who has boarded this train and made it fly with such exuberance that it never stopped, and would swish through that chalkboard-black-tunnel with ease and lightheartedness, looking back at a journey well lived, and another to yet begin.




I love you'll in a gooey-mushy-hot-chocolate-fudge-way. Yes you :)

Happiness. Its simple really. This is my happiness. :)

Have you ever had a feeling so intense, feeling-good-goosebumps type, that even though its just in your mind, it feels real?


Who said that you can't literally feel whats going on in your mind?
I can. I have.
Everytime I go onto pinterest(my latest obsession) I feel a sense of happiness.


A sense of longing to someplace, a sense of spreading my wings and flying away into one of the oh-so-serene images and starting my life there.
Of setting up a house, and doing it up with white walls,
Of wooden floors,
Of not just a handful but a heart-full of cushions and pillows of all sizes, small and big, yellow and pink, of earthy tones to blue blues.
Of small little antique kettles gurgling with water,

Of me in my specs and hair all tasseled down upon my shoulders,
Floating around with a mug of coffee,
Of staring out into the vast emptiness that
envelopes me in a sense of wanting to be part of the birds and bees,

Of all the oceans and seas, splashing against the shores and reminding us that they are alive and living life with such joy that its breathtakingly inspirational.


This feeling fills up my heart with such warmth,
that i get all gummy-bear-soft inside,
And all i want to do is breathe this feeling into someone else,
So that we could blanket our minds in perfect symphony and know that neither of us is on our own. We have each other.


I've felt happiness. People go around looking for it. Im lucky, i feel it every time i plug in my earphones with 'your hand in mine-explosions in the sky', and pinterest the things i love.
I feel elated and feather light.
I think that is what you call happiness.
:)

My wish list !

I don't know where I am headed. All I do know is life after college is about choices, and given the chance of doing so, this is what I wish for :

A beautiful old house : I wish for a million trees surrounding this tiny stoned cottage that has a cobbled pathway. A place where I am at peace with me. I wish for a house filled with things I have collected over the years, memories in boxes strewn around, pictures of years framed up, white walls, with colored corners, where I can sit by my window sill and read, cuddled up in blankets and a million little pillows, and big pillows, and bigger ones. Coffee to keep me warm on cold winter nights and rainy afternoons.

Lots of books and wine : I wish for the time and passion to read a million books, from all over the world. About paris, about cheese and about the road taken by others. I wish for wine to go with it. Because doesn't a picture of books and wine please your mind? It does to mine. oh and that rhymed :)

Friends : I want all my existing friends with me for years to come. I want to have company always. I want people around me who would come with me for random trips to backpack around the world. I want people over, laughing and sitting around playing board games with me and getting high on spirits and good food. I want yesha,kanu,nitika and barsha, my life lines, to be there for years to come. And i want them to visit me and bring back fond memories of old confessions.


A passion : I want a passion that brings me money. I don't want a job. I want to be somewhere in the background of life, pushing people to do good, to design, to celebrate art and music. I want people to realize the beauty of how music, art and design bring such joy in the world. That money isn't everything, and life isn't supposed to be such a mundane journey.

Family : I want family around me, so that I can take my baby brother to places he hasn't seen. I can cover up his mistakes when he needs me. I want to be there for my parents and my oh so awesome-crazy-maybe even a bit retarded extended family :) actually strike that, they are completely retarded and i love them for exactly that reason.

Be loved by someone adorable : I want that guy who isn't my knight in shinning armor, more like artist-in-a-vinatge car with an air of passion around him. I want someone who has the same zest for life, and who pushes me to follow my heart without being afraid. Oh and cooks amazingly. Just had to add that, since it's my wish list anyway, no harm reaching for the shooting stars.

Travel the world : every bit of it. I wish to keep traveling with people who teach me how to live life, in many a different way. Who accompany me on my journeys of adventure, fun and stupidity!

To make a difference : thats the most important thing. And i've saved it for the last. I wish for a group of people who share my passion for making a difference in people's lives through music and art. Who aren't worried about the tomorrow and just want to make a happy today.








There you go, I have put it out there to materialize and the day any one of them does, ill keep you posted. Don't worry it won't be long for the wish list to magically transform itself into a beautiful dreamy reality.

WHAT IF :


What if :

I think I am 21. Which well I actually am. But what if my parents have been lying to me about my birth date? What if I find out I am 30, and have been living life like a 21 year old.
What would I do? Would I continue living like I am 21? Or would the fact that I am higher on the numerical scale on paper change how I behave and live? Would my body behave differently knowing that I am actually older?

What if :

A guest comes to my house for a dinner party, locks himself in the spare guest room, and never comes out. What would I do? What would you do, if breaking down the door never was an option ? Would you forget that room ever could open? Would you pretend like no one was in there? Would you choose to wake up everyday to reason with a person to come out ? Or would you accept it, and keep giving him food through the gap at the bottom of the door?

What if :

we could all read each others life. Through their eyes. Since they any way say, that eyes are the windows to a persons soul. Would you be happy knowing everything about so many people? Would we be more comfortable in knowing that the other person is going through the same thing? Then no one would really have secrets, gossip would be a thing of the past, and introverts wouldn't exist. Would it make you take wiser decisions then? Since everyone would be able to read your story.

What if :

newspapers could only carry happy news? No articles about conflict, abuse or war? Would the world be a happier place since all every person would read every morning are positive things? Would there be no conflict in the world? Or would we actually just pretend that there is nothing bad happening around? Or would the pretending actually eventually become reality?

What if :

the idea was 'make as many mistakes as possible' ? Since we are alive to learn and grow everyday. No harm in making mistakes now and then. Would you be willing to make a mistake then, knowingly, if it was okay?

What if :

The world was run by love not money? Would you still work the job you are working, just because you love it? Would working not interest you then? Or would you switch to a job that makes you happier since you anyway do not have to earn?

What if :

My posts could have their own background music? Only then, and then only, would you be able to feel what I felt when I wrote this post.

# mind it ! :p

If you know me, just about even a little bit, you'd know that I think wayyyyy too much, and cause myself grey hair and wrinkles.

My mind tends to have a mind of its own. 

I mean I may see a straight line, but I will sit wondering :

what if that straight line had an accident and became a curved line instead, 

what if the straight line breaks in two and then is not happy with the length it is.

what if the two pieces aren't the same length then would one be jealous of the other? or would the smaller piece feel bad and go into depression? 

would the straight line manage to find another perfectly straight line or would all other straight lines be just a little bit curved for him?

So you see how my mind tends to take on a tangent of its own. Its like it does just how it pleases. I go 'so mind i have been thinking lets not sit around all day and do nothing' and my mind responds something to this effect " sonali, bro have you thought about how short you are? ever? i mean like have you seen how that girl was so tall and thin! oh-my-god".

how my mind can be so dramatic sometimes :/

And then people blame me for over thinking. Its all this mind's fault really, if you look at it from my point of view. This, this particular angle that i look at it from, you'll see then how I get cornered into thinking such thought.

You now get it don't you? Its like my mind just defy's anything i say :/ its one unruly thing who should be spanked and asked to go sit in a corner till he can actually process what i am trying to tell him.

As Mark Twain said: “I’ve been through some terrible things in my life, some of which actually happened.”

# This is so my life story.