Another Mortal Life

I would write.. And I would write a lot.. Some day.. About yesterday. This is just a reminder to myself that I would.

There would be a mention of the few words I've had with a friend about another friend. It feels good to hear the emotional side of men who'd rarely show it. You feel like the chosen one.

There would be a few words about how much I hate people calling me when I'm sleeping, and then complaining of my rudity on phone (which always was there, I was told!) .

There would be a few words about how some people were working night shift on a part-time peon's job, delivering notices. Sucked they indeed.

And there would be a few words about the room I occupied till yesterday, and 5-6 of the final yearites who lived on the same floor. I'll miss them.

But, looks like I'm already done writing all that.

From dawn to dusk,
I walked the roads, messily,
Permeating through crowds,
Moving through unmoving masses,
Absorbing their indifference
or coming to terms with my own invisibility,
Letting the pits get better of me,
Remembering the barriers as milieus,
Slowing down under the trees,
Pacing out the sun in least possible time,
And wondering how much of me they retained,
And how much of them made inroads into me.

Finally I’m at peace with the world, God and myself. As an effect, the unnecessary rants on this blog have stopped.

I have come to understand that, at the end of the day, practicality and objectivity matters.

I’ve also come to understand the importance of making clear decisions. I’m still a long way from the digital-yes-or-no, but it’s good to decide things for myself and face the consequences, rather than getting into a habit of postponing.

I’ve, finally, and again, come to respect the introvert in me. I love the way I’m. I also recognize the importance of talking to people, socializing etc, but such changes in behavior should be slow and gradual, rather than sudden and abrupt.

I’ve been quite proud of my laziness in the recent times, but I know that deep down I’ve a zeal for work. I’ve always had it in me, and it’s time for it to knock the indolence off. Life is too good to be wasted.

Poetry consumes you, especially the strict format of a ‘ghazal’. I know that if I’ve to keep my head intact, I shouldn’t write a ‘ghazal’ again (I knew I won’t write again, even while writing the last one.)

It’s important to let the people know the way you feel about them. Henceforth, if I feel-“It’s not going down well with me”, I’d say it, clear, blunt, and in their face, and without any diluting words like perhaps, somewhat, i guess, a bit etc which I've been guilty of using too much, and too often. And telling people what I find good about them should be even easier.
(One of my deleted-within-2-hours-of-publishing-posts returns here, though in a different form.)

Each of the above paragraphs could’ve been a post in itself, but I like it this way only: the ‘integrated way of speaking’, of a man of few words.

What would you do if you meet someone who talks/opines/muses like...

"The world and I are not on the speaking terms. The world tries to win me back, but it doesn't work. I guess I'm just not the forgiving type."

"It's my favourite place in the whole world, to be treated like dirt."

"You said it's important to have freedom to say no, but I think it's more important to have freedom to say yes."

"The truth is a bully we all pretend to like."

"He is the kind of man who wears his sleeve on his heart."

"I could never respect a man who didn't have the good sense to be at least a little afraid of me."

"Sometimes you have to surrender before you win."

"Wisdom is just cleverness, with all the guts kicked out of it."

I'd only give you advice if I didn't care what happens to you."

"If fate doesn't make you laugh, then you just don't get the joke."

"I take everything personally- that's what being a person is all about."

"They look like monuments of something that died. Something very unpopular.. like... human spirit, for example."

"Sometimes I think that's what heaven is- a place where everybody's happy because nobody loves anybody else, ever."

"Happiness is a myth, it was invented to make us buy things."

"People always hurt us with their trust. The surest way to hurt someone you like, is to put all your trust in him."

"I don't know what frightens me more,the power that crushes us or our endless ability to endure it."

"Mistakes are like bad loves, the more you learn from them, the more you wish they'd never happened."

"It isn't a secret, unless keeping it hurts."

"Men reveal what they think when they look away, and what they feel when they hesitate. With women, it's the other way round."

"Depression only happens to people who don't know how to be sad."

"Luck is what happens to you when fate gets tired of waiting"



?????????

I would fall in love with her.


[Dialogues of the female protagonist in Shantaram, by Gregory David Roberts]

Vo jo aaye to khush mere ghar ke deewar-o-dar mile..
Aaine ko bhi shayad kuchh khush-bakht manzar mile.

Baithkar saamne poochha zamaane bhar ka haal..
Vo mile to humse magar.. humii.n se bekhabar mile.

Poochhi.n aakhiri mulaqaat ki jab yaadein usne..
Main kya batlata mujhe to khwabo.n mein aksar mile.

Unki aankhon se hua karta tha waqt ka asl andaazaa..
arse baad vo aankh mile ab.. barson baad nazar mile.

Likhun aur kyun main ghazal ab uske naam par..
Na ziyadaah waqt hai.. na sahii maqta-o-beher mile.