Retreat to the Familiar

Am reading Gone with the Wind for the nth time. Its like getting back in touch with yourself...looking back at the linkages it had with your emotional evolution at that time...feeling the same rush of excitement you did when your first read it and hence realising that you are quite the same person!! I have been devouring it like a hungry animal, yet relishing each work, sometimes even re reading paras and lines that connect with me.

Also spending time with mum. Met L. Lovely weather for the past two days.

So...am out of it. Finally. This time the roller coaster was sharper, though shorter.

But I continue to be irritated. With the two selves within me that reside in conflict, sometimes with open war, sometimes with uneasy peace.

I stand for....

Touched upon a nice game yesterday with J (a new speck) on people "symbolising" certain adjectives (the nice ones).

Recollected that today with 2 fabulous, underrated songs -

"Kuch kasmein hain jawan" from Aankhen. Smooth, well picturised song with Sushmita Sen and Arjun Rampal - they symbolise "God"

"Kaal dhamaal" from Kaal. Colorful, frenetic, pulsating....SRK and Malaika Arora. They are "HOT".

Some others...

"Beautiful" - Hema Malini, Shobana, Michelle Pfeiffer

"Superstar" - Sridevi, Liz Taylor, AB

"Talented" - Naseerudin Shah, Shabana Azmi, Meryl Streep

When big things pull me down, its the little things that help me get back

Had a long chat with Nan on domestic trifles and weather differences

Unexpectedly chanced upon old favorites on radio - Jawaani Jaaneman, Ankhiyan Milaoon, Akele Hum Akele Tum

Got a delightful forward with a half remembered tune from the DD days

Started reading Gone with the Wind for the umpteenth time

Ran out in the rain, got wet, dirty, laughed.

Smiled at the sweet thing a relative stranger said to me.

People connect. And people slotting.

3 conversations of depth. With a boss (M, 39), new friend (F, 30), and a relatively older friend (M, 31). They ranged across the widest of personal topics imaginable - career decisions, drivers of life's principles, relationship foundations, self flagellation, self love, romance and its relevance, peace, success factors and so on. They forced me to turn myself inside out and examine crevisses of facts that look entirely different under a different light. And they turn my thoughts beyond just the content, in another direction as well....

What significance do these conversations have in my life? Its not just about the conversations, is it....its about the people connect that over time has become more and more integral to my life. As I increasingly feel cocooned, I let myself (in fact, seek to) be pushed by people out of comfort zones. People across ages, backgrounds, orientation, lifestyles, and maybe even character (though I would not like to believe that). These conversations are just mediums of connecting to life experiences....the comfort of connect, thrill of exploration, the joy of commonalities, the wonderment at the spectrums, the sly inward glances; followed always by serious thought, many questions, some conclusions, and sometimes even emotion.

This is all fine and logical, but takes me to a more disturbing place of thought - for all my stated aversion to objectifying people or getting objectifyed by people, am I tolerating subtler (and hence more dangerous) versions of the same, from others and within myself? As I look around, we seem to have started reducing even people to tick marks in a checklist. The way I react to someone who goes through the "degree/car/job/wife/washing machine/onsite assignment" list, I should probably react the same way to someone who goes through the "drinking buddy/trophy case-wife/piggy bank-husband/soul confidante-best friend/bitching colleague/bed mate - girl-boy friend" list as well! I accept that we have our needs and different elements of our life fulfil those needs, and that would include people as well. But there's a line, not a fine one but an entire fence, between letting people fill voids in our life and actually slotting them conveniently. Even the thought angers me - what sobers me is the thought that even I may end up doing this if I don't look out. And what about the ones in my life who I see doing or going towards the same, usually with others and, horror of horrors, even with me?! I think I will use my new found mantra "respond, not react" and go ahead and drive my messages over time. If the messages are taken and actioned, its a vindication that my choices in life are thinking, genuine individuals (ha ha ha ha ha!!!!). If they are not, parting may not be such sweet sorrow.

Dangerous

Its time to move various elements in the direction in which I want them to go in the long term. But comfort zones do exist, and the heart is fickle, and life is unexpected. Just three hours ago, I had asked K to understand his drivers. Do I know mine? I do, but sometimes refuse to acknowledge them, for some of those drivers are things that I want, not need. And that's dangerous, because it spells destruction, for the self and others, something that I observed in so many others as they moved down this path to death without realising it. I need to move out of this danger, hence this poem, filched from the other space I inhabit. It haunts me on this seemingly lazy Sunday evening, causing me to clench my fist in some parts, causing me to cry in some other. I am not ruthless, I am just a survivor.

Out of Danger

Heart be kind and sign the release
As the trees their loss approve.
Learn as leaves must learn to fall
Out of danger, out of love.

What belongs to frost and thaw
Sullen winter will not harm.
What belongs to wind and rain
Is out of danger from the storm.

Jealous passion, cruel need
Betray the heart they feed upon.
But what belongs to earth and death
Is out of danger from the sun.

I was cruel, I was wrong -
Hard to say and hard to know.
You do not belong to me.
You are out of danger now -

Out of danger from the wind,
Out of danger from the wave,
Out of danger from the heart
Falling, falling out of love.

- James Fenton

rap on my knuckles

I sit with silence surrounding me, a cool breeze ruffling my hair. Its 12 and its the end of another weekend. No, its not been fourth time lucky, though it was close. Could have been, though. If only I had remembered that lesson I have taught myself so many times before - never end on a low. Start with a low maybe...and then build up. But never, never, end on a low.

Anyway, Artemis Fowl awaits. Soooooo much fun. Thank god for the reliable things in life.

Good night.

The dance of perfection

Each day is another interlude as I set out, feet tapping to whatever genre of music life has decided to play for these moments, in search of perfection.

Today's instrumentals were a little warm, breezy, a little sunny, with fluffy clouds. My first step was hesitant, but I was in good hands with K. Short, pleasant yet provoking, it was ideal for the next, longer moves. Settled into wicker chairs in front of a vista of greenery, the beats moved faster. Challenges dealt with by thought through steps; unexpected discoveries that brought sudden smiles to the face; eyes furrowed, then relaxed, then furrowed again. I dont remember what all we spoke about (life, decisions, choices, careers, organizations, culture, awakenings....) but I know I learnt a lot...about R and about myself. I needed a break. Stepping onto the sidelines, I browsed through the books on display at the Strand book sale (an old favorite haunt), allowing myself to absorb the beauty of others. But one can only remain still for so long....and appropriately, it was L who brought me back to the floor in his own quiet, comforting way. Long drive, long walk, long conversation. About me, myself. About him. Current preoccupations, past baggage, future plans. A symphony so subtle that all moves felt effortless and untiring, each step yielding more energy than it used. Before I could sink to dangerous comfort levels, it was time to switch gears. A fast drive, racy music, loud, catchy, rocking. And then back home. A last conversation, that half - expected stumble after the heady moves. Ironically, with M. Again - short, provoking, disturbing.. there's so much one can do, but there's also so much one can't.

The music's toned down a bit but continues to play in the background. Tom and Jerry provides easy amusement as I look back at my four partners for the day - with fondness, and some irritation; with a lot of love, and a little anger; with a sense of comfort, and a bit of helplessness. With a lot of gratitude - for getting me this close to perfection.

survival tactics

I got appreciated today, but I didn't feel the sense of quiet contentment (or "maybe I am not that bad") that I normally do. Just felt nothing.

So I guess I am not really on the "up" swing that I thought I was. I am probably keeping my head in the ground and being absolutely occupied to prevent too much thought or emotion seeping through the surface. Its a bit like keeping a child distracted while he's being injected. By the time he loses interest in the distraction, the pain of the injection would be dimmed and he can look at the wound again.