Some days...... life feels like a treadmill and you feel like you're running as fast as you possibly can but you're still stuck in the same place.
... the thoughts in your head seem clearest when the world seems just a little fuzzy.
... you need to stand in the middle of a storm to feel at peace.
... everything seems inconsequential and you just want to sleep forever.
... you want to do everything right but the entire Universe seems to be conspiring against you.
... you feel you're at the end of your rope and then all of a sudden things get better.
... you trust nothing and no one and when you least expect it an angel comes along and makes you believe again.
... you just know that it's going to be as okay as it could ever be. And that it's really okay to not be okay too because Life's Like That!
... you have nothing to write about but the itch is there so you write anything that comes into your head!
Home is where the heart is...
There's something positively lascivious about the word 'lascivious'. It makes you feel just a little sinful and just a little giggly. Like the thought of warm molten chocolate. Or maybe, a little bit like a pre-teen, reading an adult romance novel under torchlight, being caught by a frowning disapproving nun. Of course you might be curious about my sudden fascination with the word so I'm going to let it go and carry on with the rest of my post.
I flew into Seattle last Sunday, my fourth trip in eight months. A whiff of the cold wet mountain air outside the airport made me smile, as always. There's something about the Seattle air that I feel straight in my bones. A magical something that makes me wish I could give up my wanderlust and never leave that beautiful city. I never could understand my bond with the city that was a home to me for less than a year, so I simply never question it. I'm just happy I get to visit that city as often as I do, even if I don't live there any more.
It was just another weekend spent with one of my closest friends. Of course, in true Seattle spirit, it rained all the time I was there and I loved every minute of it. Add to that, it was also the first time I was driving around by myself and the freedom was both new and wholly enjoyable. I even remarked on how I felt more at home there than in LA and I had lived in LA much longer.
And just as always, I boarded my flight back with a twinge of regret that I always feel at leaving Seattle. I often wonder what life would have been like if I had got that Microsoft job. What if I had become one of the thousands of migrant Indians holding (arguably) the most prestigious job in this line of work. I know I would have hated it, just as I hated every minute of being on the legendary Microsoft campus during my interview. I have often told myself that it was more of a blessing disguise; I'm definitely not cut out for that life. Of course, it may be considered a case of sour grapes by most, but the honest truth is that I'm not competitive or ambitious yet I'm very sensitive to failure. I know that fighting my way up that pyramid would have sapped the living life force out of me.
But I digress. The fact is that I'm fairly happy with my life as it is in LA. No amount of wondering about the "what-ifs" has tempted me to look for something more just yet. Yet there is this conscious reluctance to give in to this contentment and let myself belong to LA. I know this city quite well; I know my way around and my place in the city. I have a good job and a few friends here. I went to school here. I live in a lovely little apartment which is all mine. Then why do I feel like I still do not belong in LA?
I was still contemplating these facts of my life when we landed and I made my way out to the now familiar terminal to take a shuttle to the parking lot. I knew, even before stepping out, that the sun would be harsh and I had my sun glasses ready. I was prepared for the heat, the smog and the crowds outside that door. I got out, found my shuttle and sat back to look out of the window. As we drove away from the airport I saw the road in front of me, wide and brightly sunlit, lined with palm trees on both sides.
And then I heard a voice in my head that, like an unanticipated left hook, blew my lights out. It was a little voice, peaceful and content, which said,
"Sigh! It's good to be home, at last!"
Who is she?Looking through a looking glass
A stranger's looking back at me
I look to see what I look like
Instead I wonder- "Who is she?"
A face so different from my own
Eyes that seem to hold my stare,
With questions I don't understand
Before those eyes, my soul lays bare.
A kindred spirit or long lost friend
I know not who the image is,
Yet something tells me I know her well
In a world quite different from this.
I am as much a stranger
To her, as she to me
Yet we share a deeper fear
Of who we are and who we'll be.
I smile at her, a hesitant smile
And she smiles right back at me
A chord is struck, a deal is made
For maybe one day I will be she.
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Inspired by Abhi Tak Single's post -
I spy with my little eye
Randomization...
Not much to blog about so here are just a few random thoughts/questions ...
I prefer movies to television dramas. Movies tell you the whole story in one sitting and the happy endings stay forever. You may occasionally wonder what they mean by "And-they-lived-happily-ever-after" but it's really up to you to believe that all of it really did work out. Television gets characters together and then when it wants to spice things up makes them break up and get together with someone else. There are never any happy endings because there are never any endings and fools like me are hooked in the hope that it will somehow all work out with these imaginary people. Sigh!
In the movies where the lead characters find their "true love" while they're with someone else, has anyone wondered what happens to the person they dump to be with this new "true love"? Given that in most romantic movies at least one of the two lead characters dumps who they're with to be with their "true love", why do we consider these movies to be feel-good movies? Why do we never think about what happens to the other guy/girl? Why does no one shed a tear for him/her?
What do you do if you're at a party that you just didn't want to attend and are hating every minute of? What if you don't have any means of transportation to leave and are stuck there till the people you came with decide it's time to go? How do you feel when you know you're obviously missing something because every one seems to be having the time of their life? Do you sit in a corner and sulk the evening away, or try anything and everything to get out of there? Or do you suck it up and try to understand what it is that everyone else is so entertained by and give the whole affair an honest shot?
What if that party is actually your entire life and you see no purpose to it nor any way out of it? (Don't worry I'm really okay. I promise.).
Is there a reason why I have been getting hit on by guys who are already openly and seriously committed to another person? Three different guys in as many years is definitely no co-incidence. How do I even know these people?! And more importantly - where are the single guys??!!!
Can you really find the love of your life by filling out a form with your height, weight, salary and a few sugar-coated "About Me" lines?
I started working out 2-3 times a week at the start of the year and I have been putting on weight consistently ever since. Why am I always the weird one with these logic-defying realities?!
Why are you still reading this?!
In the still of the night...
I live in a fully furnished apartment, done up with colorful cushions and pale wood furniture, an airy, bright place. There are pictures lining the walls and bric-a-brac on bookshelves, mute spectators of a time long gone. Every corner seems to hold a testament of some memorable moment lived joyously. This place I call home.
I live alone. I live by myself. Have you ever noticed how discouraging it is to cook for oneself? A meal eaten alone is hardly ever appetizing. And junk food tastes so much better than a proper meal when eaten in front of the television.
It’s never silent around here. I turn on the television before I turn on the lights when I get home from work. If I’m in the kitchen or the shower, I have the radio turned on at full volume. And if I’m in my room, reading, writing or even sleeping, my laptop is always beside me streaming music from the Internet. And I'm almost always on the phone with someone.
There is usually so much to do around the house; it seems like time and space are always filled up to the brim around here. It’s always busy, so much to do and so little time to do it. Just living is a lot of work, or so it seems.
And then, once in a while, the phone won’t ring, the television, radio and laptop will all be turned off and the lights will all be turned out save a solitary night light in the corner of the living room. Silence, darkness and space.
It’s the space that gets to me really. An 1100 sq. ft. apartment just for me seems like such a waste. A double bed in the bedroom, when I only need one-third of it to sleep. Large empty space. A space I always craved as a child sharing a dormitory with twenty others like myself. Yet a space that feels like a void to me now. I’m not fond of wide empty spaces, they're so alienating and devoid of life.
The silence never lasts. Once the noises inside the house die down, the sounds from outside start to seep in. The baby crying next door, traffic on the road in front, the neighbors cat on the stairs outside. All the sounds that are evidence of life outside are also reminders of the silence within.
The darkness I welcome. It feels like a part of me, as if it were born somewhere deep within me. It envelops me, shielding me from everything around me, embraces me like a long lost love. Within the darkness I feel myself breathe again, alive and true to the basest form of my soul. In the dark there is warmth. In the dark I feel whole.
I know the morning will intrude soon enough and life will take over everything once more. Daylight will fill up this space and highlight the achievements of my consumer driven life. The sounds of life from outside will intermingle with the humdrum of my existence.
But just for these few moments, the darkness is mine.
