I Love to Think

I woke up to the sound of faint drizzle. It's a nostalgic, lovely kind of sound. And as I peered through the curtains I realized that even when the morning is as cloudy as it is today, it is the fresh lush greenery that brings happiness to your life.

Th entire motive of writing this blog post is to vent out those churning thoughts that often erupt inside of my brain.

Here I am, right out of my bed, with my hair all messed up and surrounded by that fluffy comforter; no cup of coffee or tea. I don't quite like any of them. And I'm doing what I love the most......staring at the rain drops sticking to the window pane and writing.

Last night, I had one of the most beautiful dreams ever. I saw a congregation of all those wonderful people I love; those who are a part of my life, as well as those who are not anymore. I think I must have been in some kind of paradise, because when can you really see everyone you love at the same time? And I was so happy that I kind of went around talking to everyone about everything. I was even crazy enough to dance with some of them. This was that kind of dream that doesn't quite end. It sort of seeps into reality and when you wake up you feel like you are still a part of it. I didn't know whether I was supposed to be sad that many of those people I met had long stepped out of my life, or if I was supposed to be happy that we would all meet again in the near future.

Before I went to sleep last night, I walked down to the back gates. I had an electronic copy of The Great Gatsby with me, and that was more than enough to keep me occupied. I sat by the water and spent an hour midst the life of those Americans. It amazes me how fictional characters can sometimes be better company. They seem to possess this supernatural tendency to absorb you into their life. It's okay to be surrounded by a million people when you're in college. Some of them are really good friends. But sometimes one likes to take a break from this social circle to reflect upon Life. Just Life and nothing else. Maybe with a novel in your hand.

Yesterday, I was pretty disturbed by the consequences of wrong decisions. Most of the times we blame ourselves for not carrying out a task properly. What we forget is that perhaps we shouldn't have chosen to do this task on the first place. It's momentary happiness versus permanence. It's the hardest decision to make when you choose your career, or your friends and even when you're falling in love. But sometimes it also doesn't matter what you choose, as long as you learn.

By the time I am 30, I will be able to fully understand why my Mom said, "You're too young now. Once you're old enough and you have experienced a bit of life, you'll be able to decide better."

So before I went to sleep with these fleeting thoughts in my head, I made a decision. It won't matter if it is right or not anymore. Because this Life is so beautiful. Because I'm always learning. Even if I wake up tomorrow beneath a gloomy thunderous sky. I'm just glad that in the end, there is always so much hope. Like The Smiths' said, "There is a light that never goes Out.

There isn't a candle in our heart, there is a star. And it's up to us to fuel it with all the bright light this Universe has to offer.

Of Eternal Sunshine and Spotless Minds

For me it's all about those amazing quotes and dialogues. 

I'm actually a very sensitive person; silly rom-coms bring tears to my eyes and even the most comic of horror movies scare the hell out of me. And this may sound super mega ultra DRAMATIC to the core but yes, after watching it for the millionth time,  I still don't know what I feel.  It's something like reading Wuthering Heights. That novel changed the way I think about Life; this movie kind of did the same.

Let me run through some of my favorite moments in this movie:

1. When a slightly disoriented, confused yet cautious Joel Barish says,

"Why do I fall in love with every woman I see who shows me the least bit of attention?"

Such a natural, rhetorical question. It made me smile. Men, they are all the same.

2. "I don't need nice. I don't need myself to be it, and I don't need anybody else to be it at me."

I love this statement because it reminds me of something similar a close friend said long back. It's a sentence full of anger and resentment, but at the same time it solidifies into a thought. Clementine was an impulsive woman. However, her words describe a kind of negativity that defies reality. 'Cause soon enough, she falls in love with a 'nice' person. It's strange how what we don't want at all in life, is what we may end up liking.

3. "Adults are like, this mess of sadness and phobias."

When you look at a baby, and you behold this angelic face with sugar-coated dimples and smiles, you realize that true happiness lies in innocence. The adult mind is a complicated maze that knows no exit. I guess the goal of human existence should be finding a way to get back to childhood. It's a beautiful untainted piece of memory that we all cherish.

4. Clementine: "This is it, Joel. It's going to be gone soon."
    Joel: "I know."
    Clementine: "What do we do?"
    Joel: "Enjoy it."

The last scene of Joel's memory is perhaps the most heart-wrenching part of the film. He knows he's going to lose the memory forever and he's tired of trying to run away. He's tired of trying to hide Clementine from those 'eraser guys'. He knows there is no way back. So midst the rolling grumbling sea waves and the gradual crashing of the deserted house next to the beach, they meet to spend one last minute together. It's a beautiful yet painful concept. Losing someone, not just physically but mentally forever and ever.


5. "...I'm just a fucked up girl who is looking for my own peace of mind. Don't assign me yours."

She's the most brutally honest girl I've ever come across. She scoops colors from the rainbow. For her hair. Literally. Enough said.

6. "I could die right now, I'm just...happy. I've never felt that before. I'm just exactly where I want to be."  

Officially my favorite quote in this movie. It's a golden line. The feeling of extreme bliss, while Joel and Clem lie on the glacier facing the glistening stars in heaven, is overwhelming. That happiness is leaking out and overflowing and it's choking you. It will kill you before you know it. Everything is so perfect that you could just die and still, nothing would have changed.

7. Joel: "I can't see anything I don't like about you."
    Clementine: "But you will, you will think of things and I'll get bored with you and feel trapped   because that's what happens with me."
     Joel: "Okay."
     Clementine: "Okay."

There's more than one reason why this dialogue made me cringe. I guess it is because it was the simplest ending to an argument there ever was. He accepts her, and her weaknesses. She accepts his acceptance. It's like a mirror. They are two halves of one soul. They reflect so perfectly, that even when they decide to run away from each other, Fate rushes to bring them back. Darkness cannot exist without light. He can't exist without her and that's all there is to it.

8. "You can erase someone from your mind. Getting them out of your heart is another story." 

The tagline of this movie is the truest piece of fact in the universe. How in the world can you forget someone who has given you SO much to remember? And by memories I don't mean online chats or phone conversations. I don't mean sweet words and long letters.

I'm talking about actual memories, that don't vaporize with time.

Moments that are crystallized not just in your fucked up brain, but in your heart. One day, you'll wish you could enter a clinic down town and erase that memory, that person off completely. But then, in the process you'll discover that even if this person has given you the worst kind of heartbreak and pain ever, they have still given you memories. Not only has this person given you precious moments, you too have given them a chance to be happy. And once they're gone from your mind, it's pretty much an irreversible change. But when Joel and Clem meet again, you realize that no change is permanent enough to keep you apart from the people you love. Because that's the role of the heart.

It kicks in when the brain blacks out.
It injects love into your life-blood.
It saves your life by saving your memories.
It brings eternal sunshine to your mind. It truly does.

I'm a Little Awkward

               

                                           

                                      We used to be best friends.

Inseparable; beautiful, sugar-coated

Promises of childhood and

Nostalgic thoughts trailblazing

Straight down The Memory Lane.

We spent those dry evenings,

Immersed in scattered conversations

Imprinted rough pillow fights

Hasty shouting matches

Pushing and knocking each other down.

We fell out more than once,

But you're adorably annoying at times

Those unmistakable bad habits,

Your unforgivable eating marathons

And carelessly crafted humor.  

But then all of a sudden

A little something happened

I messed up as usual,

You backed off and slowly

Glanced at me from the distance.

I was scared and anxious,

We all make mistakes don't we?

If only falling in love were not that

Easy, with wonderful creations

Such as you and your carefree smile :)

But what I loved so much more,

Was the way you picked up

From where I had left

The way you stitched back all 

That was torn and shred apart.

The way you slowly returned

A beautiful unknown feeling,

Not knowing it yourself,

I sensed it when you spoke,

And once again you made me smile.

But I'm still a little awkward ,

and I don't know why.

We used to be best friends,

We didn't have to try.

But now the calm has fluttered

A little; the storm has passed,

The birds have flown away,

But so has what we shared.

I'm yet a little awkward,

But I guess that's because

God's having a good laugh

Up there; among the heavens,

Waiting to see if two of his children

Find their way back to Neverland,

The way back to blissful eternity

The way back to Friendship :)

The One Portrait

I peered slowly from the edge 

Of that golden ornate frame

The One Portrait which hung in his studio

Slightly inclined, slightly imperfect...

I'd been there for a decade now,

Past ten memorable years

Witnessed tumultuous events of Old

That swirled in and twirled out...

He had created my dusky hair

With a swish of coal-like darkness,

And I remember how his fingers

Caressed those soft curls that night...

He had whirled his paintbrush

To create a complexion of Gold,

So flawless, so pure, with crimson 

Blushing cheeks, like fresh apples...

His skilled hands had painted

Eyes the color of glassy grey,

And I remember how those dark orbs

Tried to dodge my gaze that night...

His careful fingers sorted the paints

As he chose the rosy scarlet hue,

To personify those fragrant lips

He had come to love with much care...

He swished his paintbrush a little

As the magical spray of soft crimson,

Created a glow on the neck and 

The hands he had once kissed so gently...

Colors blended in so beautifully

The portrait was finally complete,

And unlike his other helpless victims

I hung gracefully in his workplace.

A particular fancy he had for me,

Of all those women he brought back, 

He turned to my portrait for inspiration

And I'd play spectator to his evils.

They grew prettier as they came,

Fell in love with his wild attractive scent,

And eventually the luscious blood

Dripped down those linen sheets.

And one-by-one they settled down

Some in his parlor, some in the hall

Lovely women all snared in his net

Dead, gone, yet alive on canvas.

I still peered slowly from the edge 

Of that golden ornate frame

The One Portrait which hung in his studio

Slightly inclined, slightly imperfect...

...Glad that I had to no longer

Breathe the Agony.

The Florist

There is something rigid and artificial about cultivated talents. I always felt so, and after I met her, I was more than convinced about my own opinion. Some people religiously attend piano lessons every week, some take painting classes, and a couple of them gravitate towards a sport to 'stay fit and healthy'. 

She was different.

Her skills grew out of real true passion for art. When I first entered her room, I was left spellbound for a long time. Flowers. Beautiful, colorful, flowers everywhere. Flowers created out of oil paints, sketched out with charcoal, smudged with pastels, decorated with glitter, and blended with poster colors. Large and small canvases. Pretty cuttings of flowers hanging from the curtains, printed on bed-sheets and pillowcases. Even her dresses, I realized were made of light-hued flowery printed fabric.

She had never learnt how to paint. That talent somehow happened right after she fell in love with nature. One day she told me that after she retired, she would stay in some jolly town next to those mountains and rivers and sell flowers. She would be a florist.

I had been 'in love' many times before. Women had entered and left. I didn't know if she was here to stay in my life, but then well, who knew such stuff anyways? Maybe if she left, I'd remember her every year during Spring, when apple blossoms filled those silent canopies. I'd remember her fragrant scent, an exotic mixture of sandalwood and rose. I'd remember her dark eyes, and the Japanese Silk she wore on her 23rd birthday, white with printed cherry blossoms. I'd remember her bubbling smile, full of unconditional happiness and love.

I particularly loved her habit of collecting petals. Every time I gave her a flower, I made sure it was a different one. So that she could add it to that fat flower dictionary she was creating. And deep inside, I hoped and hoped that I never ran out of new flowers.

She will always remind me of nostalgic afternoons in the backyard. Days when all I wanted to do was patch up my hot air balloon or get lost in the orchard or sail down the river to the tranquil harbor. Days when she sat next to me, her head on my shoulder, singing songs that we both loved. Days when she covered her hands with paint and created mosaics on my wall. She will always remind me of fallen eyelashes, maple leaves and carnations.

The first time I saw her, she was looking out of a French window in a cafe down town. She was wearing a light blue dress, with periwinkles on it. On her right hand was a corsage, comprising of a species of white flowers I did not know.
I found it strange and so I asked her.

"Oh, I had worn this on my first prom, almost five years back." she answered. She had a musical voice, like a wood nymph.

Oh, so maybe she had a lover after all. Maybe that guy who had given her the corsage was going to meet  her at this very cafe after I left.
"Did he like you a lot?", I asked out of mere curiosity.
She laughed a lot when she heard this.
"No, he did not. Not at all. But I liked him a lot, so I wear one of these every year. It's a sweet memory, and nothing else."

I smiled to myself. She was one special woman. The future is full of uncertainties, but this woman, I wanted her to stay forever. And as I left the cafe with her by my side, I made a mental note to that man who had left her:

Thanks Bro. You gave me the chance to fall in love with this angelic creature. I owe you one for that.

Beautiful Liars

Dear Sangeetha,

Lying to yourself is sometimes, the only way out.

You know that one instance in Life when you're freakin' scared of that ONE person or insect or phenomenon? Then you shut your eyes/ears/nose to it and suddenly, it's no longer a part of your world. What you don't want to know doesn't scare you.

The TRUTH is that is perhaps the biggest, fattest most idiotic LIE on the planet.

But it works. In the end, it doesn't even matter if you've lied your way through the entire process, as
long as you get the results.



Nowadays, people are too busy being self-obsessed. I meet people who lie that they don't care about what others think, when in reality they do. There are people I've known, who lie and create whole new universes that never really existed. People lie to get out of traps they've built by themselves. Then again, lying comes out of habit.


But lying to yourself, is not so much of a habit as it is a compulsion. Sometimes, you need to convince yourself that the world is indeed a beautiful place when it is as ugly as it can get. Sometimes you need to lie to yourself about how wonderful a person you are, when in reality nobody looks at that aspect of your personality anymore. Sometimes, you lie to yourself that you're indeed the happiest person alive, when actually you're drowning in sorrow. Last but not least, sometimes you HAVE to tell yourself that magic exists, when in reality, it's just a miracle of science.

I boarded my first flight when I was four years old. And I remember the hysterical crying which followed once I heard the boarding announcement. I was scared of heights. And this THING was going to FLY. And then my mum pointed outside and I caught a glimpse of the front wheel of the plane. So this THING had wheels. So if it wanted it could crawl through the runaway and we would somehow reach Singapore yeah? I convinced myself that it would. I lied to myself, to avoid what could be my first panic attack. And then I closed my eyes and slept.

Lying to yourself is different. It's like a sedative for the frantic soul. It keeps you happy, it keeps others happy too. Sometimes you need to live for others. So if I tell you I lied to myself about something, would you support me? I guess you would 'cause that's what best friends do, don't they?

After all, when it comes to keeping our loved ones happy, we are all beautiful liars. I know so. 
Lots of Love,
Me.

Cinderella

He saw her at the ball.

She with her lilac gown

and her silver fan.

Intricate lace of golden thread

Wroughting lines of decor

On her skirt and her face.

A veil with a glassy appearance.

Crystalline slippers anew.

She smiled.

A beautiful rendition of a

memory long-lost.

Her countenance like a painting

of victory and joy.

He noticed the way the blush faded,

after the smile.

The way the eyebrows contracted.

The way the cheeks grew pale.

And he realized,

she was a cloud with a

silver lining.

Dark within, but with

flashes of light. 

He wondered what she hid.

What tremendous pains or

fantasies

That never came true. 

What sleepless nights,

what troubled thoughts that

hid beneath those brown tresses.

She smiled way too much

for a damsel in distress.

For a tragic princess.

Yet, it was evident

the traces of agony on her

flushed face

as she danced the waltz. 

He saw her at the ball.

She with her lilac gown

and her silver fan.

And he never forgot that meeting.