The Lamp

Something moves in this house every day
the lamp, a few centimeters to the left,
the vases, appear and disappear
the salt and pepper shuffled
the book shelf, a little off centre
and I spend my time putting them back
in their right place
which I decided in the first place
out of boredom or compulsion,
or because how will you follow rules
without rules?

My peripheral vision is strained
Ears have had enough of my groans
who's this ghost playing this joke on me?
Who do I ask, of occurrences so trivial
and yet so wondersome (perhaps only to me)
Why is it necessary, I wonder,
to always have things the way I prefer
to always have them the way I feel comfortable
Is this a sign to irk me,
to make me revolt,
or resign to this nuisance?

Have I been living in a box for so long,
that everything in my life should imitate it?
Why shouldn't the lamp choose a darker corner today?
Why can't the vases just take a bath once in a while?
Why wouldn't the book shelf want to be closer to the window?

One day, not too far from now,
I will pick up the courage to budge myself,
a few centimeters to the left,
to see
if the world looks different from that angle,
and to hear
all rules suspend.

In this bad bad world, be that something good

I was about a share on FB yet another article on rape/rape culture blah, blah and blah. I'm wondering if anything we do or say (scream) makes any sort of difference at all. Every day we have articles, pages and pages filled with feminist views; movies, songs on women empowerment and equality. Is it making any difference at all? Terrorism, genocide, religious fanaticism.. just so we could appeal to the humanity in every human being. Yet there are people who blame the woman...blame a country that suffered insurmountable loss...blame a religion...point the finger because it's the easiest thing to do. 

Sometimes I feel so useless, here I am being an armchair critic, watching world movies and taking pride in the little knowledge I gain, proudly bringing it up in a comfortable house party conversations every now and then. But these are people who are already sensitized, aware and know better. I wish I could say that I could affect a change by penning down my opinions as well, but I'm always too scared to be politically incorrect; there are wolves and trolls just waiting to prove you wrong, incapable, too extreme/coy or less knowledgeable than them. Maybe it's just something I've concocted in my head. As a result, I'm just a reader of convenience, hiding behind words of the limited authors who pen the most interesting headline.

It breaks my heart to read about violence, which is why I stopped reading the newspaper many years ago. Growing up in Delhi, TOI page 3 was always filled with rape and Vasant Kunj murder cases. Can't the news ever be positive?, I asked myself. And unfortunately, the news isn't getting any better with the years that have passed.

I wish there was a way I could help sensitize people who don't have access to rational thinking, people who believe war is never the answer because it only harms the innocent, people who believe reform must be considered and implemented before you announce a death sentence, (however heinous the crime), people who understand how ironical it is to suggest bombing a country to bring about peace, people who would rise up from popular belief and stop blaming the victim.

Support people who try to help, don't dismiss them. #Illridewithyou and #IndiaWithPakistan are making positive conversations and helping out people as we speak - in person or in spirit. It's easy to poke fun, call people attention-whores or follower-whores, but look beyond it.

And some people might not be as knowledgeable as you or share your opinion. Don't dismiss them either - teach them, try to reason with them. Maybe they will change YOUR mind. Pause, breathe and think.

Midnight thoughts in my head

I can hear the thoughts in my head.

The head that constantly worries about me being too old to be in a band, trying to enter a scene that thrives on energetic, finicky kids with ephemeral tastes. I was old 3 years ago, now I’m even older. But I don’t wanna be one of them 40 year olds being told their best years are behind them, but knowing that their best years never really happened. That’ll kill me. No amount of other happiness in the world will be able to compensate for the loss, the void I feel every single day I don’t pursue music. The truth is, I’m not even as driven about it as I was a few years ago; but that doesn’t stop this feeling of ready regret. Even if we crash and burn in 6 months, having performed to public just twice (if we’re lucky), I’ll know I tried. So, I hope I try.

I can hear the thoughts in my head.

About a year ago, I met a (sort of) ex after a long long time at an event my team was organizing. You can say I was a little nervous, a little apprehensive about how I’m gonna feel, what I’m gonna say. We’ve all been there, right? I was actually shocked at how little I felt and cared when I met him. This is the person I left my long-term relationship for. The person who stole 2 years of my precious youth, making me wish every day that by some dumb luck he’ll realize he made a mistake by not choosing me and will come running into my arms. The person who inadvertently kept me chaste for a year and a half! The person who’s responsible for the first 3 years of this blog. And he’s standing there in front of me, reminiscing about the great times we had, and I could only think about the number of tears I wasted. In that moment, I was angry and, at the same time, wanted to laugh in his face. In that moment, I was also thankful he made the difficult decision for me, for I wouldn’t have known this great life otherwise.

I dreamt about him a couple of months post that. It was the first time I walked away from him, and not the other way round, like I had been dreaming all the years before that. That morning has been one of my most freeing experiences of my life. To know that your subconscious has finally let go of someone you thought would haunt you for the rest of your life. This evening I dreamt of him again, again being devoid of any feelings. I’ve had other exes too, but none I cared enough to feel this indifferent towards.

I can hear the thoughts in my head.

I’m on the brink of making one of the biggest decisions of my life and surprisingly I’m not too scared. I’m being told I should be, so I’m doing my little rethinking bit. I’ve been in situations before that I’ve hurt the person I’ve committed myself to, so I’m wondering if I’m in for a repeat performance. “Once a cheater, always a cheater”, they say. There’s a certain thrill in doing the wrong thing, but boy oh boy did I pay dearly for it. There’s also a certain kind of thrill in knowing someone loves you as much as they do, that they help you reconsider your feelings about relationships and, when you’re almost 30, marriage as an institution. I’ve never been the kind that has dreamed of a wedding and children, so you’ll understand the slight apprehension. And then there’s the “I’ll never be with another person again” and I tell myself who are you fooling, there’s nobody lining up for you! Hehe. But it sure feels awesome around him, I’ll tell you that. Let’s see how it goes.

I can hear the thoughts in my head.

I’m constantly plagued by how unhealthy I am and putting on weight for reasons I can and cannot explain. The funny part is, I have solutions to both the situations but I think I’m just not taking it too seriously right now. The world is gymming, marathon-ing, yoga-ing and here I am scoffing at one 15 minute jog at Lokhandwala joggers park. Even the junk food doesn’t taste as great as it did, but do I stop? Women’s Health magazine gives me fancy headlines and then gives a rather difficult solution – one which involves not being completely sedentary. Oh well.

I can hear the thoughts in my head.

For now, I think I can do away with making friends or keeping everyone happy around me by keeping things inside of me. I feel I’m getting that little aggression back and it’s making me feel alive like I haven’t in years. I wake up every morning wanting to kick the world in its butt – in a vengeance sort of way, to prove a point, perhaps a different point each day. I think I’ve stopped making sense now.

And I think I’ll give this head a rest now. Ciao ciao! (Oh, how I miss Berlin!)