Vacation

Hello there!
Haven't written in a while, have we?
We usually feel like writing at ungodly hours like 1:22 AM.
It's our little problem.
By we I mean me and my inner-in-black-peeptoes-and thick-mascara-audrey-hepburn-looking-inner-goddess.

So the problem for the nightis,
I don't do what I love.
I've been doing Data Sufficiency all day . I could throw up. I WANT A VACATION.NOW
This generation, we all have a problem.We all constantly need a vacation.
WHY?
Because the daily rut's not a vacation.
So what's a vacation?
Its not just traveling to fancy places and drinking expensive wine and adventure and shopping and getting spa rituals, NO! Its just loving life, each moment of it, unwinding but being occupied, not sleeping, being wide awake, breathing, feeling the breath.
I think a vacation is loving what you do and doing what you love.
Doing that thing that gives you instant gratification from all the burden of life.

That thing for some people is travel, paint, sing, write, fly like a butterfly, aaah, what rose-tinted-visuals.
& no sir, you don't need a vacation if you do what you love all your life.
I am looking for that one thing, that I can do, that I love, where I won't want a vacation, where I will earn lots of money and yet live each moment like I'm gliding through (Read:Greedy Pleasures).
All of that.

But alas! Here I am. Studying when I should be sleeping. Writing when I should be snoring. Having lunch at high tea. Its a mess. Recommendation Letters. Statement of Purpose. Stupid MCOM, Bad professors. GMAT in 25 days. Its so tiring, mundane, hectic, Its all so blah. I miss everythingggg. The life, the bests, the boys, the late nights. I've been grounded. By myself. Its necessary.

But you know what gets me through?
That I'm on my way,
To my Vacation :')

Ps. I have repeatedly warned you that things that are written at this hour should never be used as a reference to judge me , *runs away*

Et tu, Brute

William Shakespeare,

He was pure genius.

I had a hate-love relationship with him in school. I loved Julius Caesar,  hated Macbeth and loved Merchant of Venice. Romeo and Juliet was beautiful, The tempest was like a conjurer's dream and Hamlet was pure boring. But when I say hate-love, whatever I felt the stories always demanded a strong reaction. They couldn't be ignored. It demanded of you to form an opinion with real raw emotions. Today we read books -  good and bad. There are books that make you go crazy. The alchemist did that for me. But there are so many that just pass by and you never look back. He could never make that happen. 

That was his magic. 

 I had a phase when I tried talking like his characters.The dramatization, poetic emotions, passionate characters, murder and insecurities, love and lust. It enthralled me. His works were life-like. His characters imperfect. They were like you and I. They were just more honest about their emotions.

Of course, now there is this new theory saying he was they and Shakespeare was a pseudonym.

His language was arcane but somehow his words touched you. They had a certain depth in them. He created an atmosphere that set perfect pictures in front of your eyes. All books do, but these were vivid colored pictures. I haven't read any of his works since school but the stories and phrases were he kinds that remain etched in your memory. I still fear the Ides of March (Something Bad always happens) , I wish life had time pauses where I could come out and recite a Soliloquy. In fact there are times when my mother catches me talking to myself (Read: I am not mad) , and I put the blame on Shakespeare. I do a little literary genius strut and tell her its my version of a Soliloquy. My inner goddess does a cat stretch with her chin up. 

The point being,  we owe him so much today.

We don't realize but there is so much we say, so much we do, the thoughts we feel, the wit that we think is ours -  that we owe to him .

Knock- knock !Who's there? - Yes, we joke because of him.  

I smell "Foul Play" but I'm going to stand by my opinions, "Come what May." 

Lovers that we are we say , "Love is blind" and he is the "Heart of hearts."

 To pamper our ego we quote, "The world is my oyster" and the incessant pride is what we owe to him. 

On confessional days we "Wear our hearts on our sleeves". 

A beggar is a "Sorry sight" and a stupid man is a "Laughing Stock."

 When we are nervous we waited with "Baited breath"  and it "makes your hair stand on ends" and once the results are out "What's done is done." 

When someone dies, "He breathed his last" and "He vanished into thin air" and then follows the philosophy of life and death and how nothing is permanent , 'All the world's a stage".

There is "Good Riddance" of the "Green Eyed Monster" because  we finally "Sent him packing." 

"For Goodness' sake" let me sleep "I haven't slept a wink". 

The "Naked Truth" is that we "break the ice" and make new friends  because "When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions." 

We say good people have "A heart of gold" and bad people are "Devil's incarnates" 

We have "Seen better days" but "Too much of a good thing" is bad.  

We shouldn't be "Faint hearted" and we should "Fight fire with Fire"  because once the "Game is up" we will all be "as dead as door-nails."

 Life is a "Full Circle" and we should "Play fair" to make it a "brave New World." before  the "Game if up" 

Oh, Shakespeare, you were a "A piece of Work" 

ps. There are SO many more. Read them on http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/phrases-sayings-shakespeare.html.

Indescribable

Never tried writing fiction. Shouldn't try next time either . Nonetheless New is Good.

***



He was domineering. Smart and Sassy. Thick Nerd Glasses and a rusty stubble. He was intelligent, hawk-eyed and exclusively honest. It wasn't a pleasure to be in the same room as him. He had hard looks, a sculpted face and deep eyes. He was constantly observing, judging, forming opinions maybe? He was a pure-heart that was engulfed by an over practical mind. He hated showing his emotions and acted as though he had none.


She was statuesque. Tall, Long Neck , Wavy brunette locks and sharp featured. Her integrity was seen sparkling right through her face. She had an audacious charm. She was intimidating and arguing with her was taking on a hellish task. Old school, conservative but liked her rum and coke on odd days. She was a feminist and she'd not stand a word against a woman. She was fairy-tale-like in the inside and wanted to be rescued but outside she would act as though nobody needed to rescue her. She wanted to be her own hero but secretly dreamt like a 17 year old. She was powerful but sometimes the forced kind of powerful.

They were hypocrites. Strong on the outside , weak in the inside.
But their strengths and their weaknesses were opposites.
She was Right brained and he was left brained.
They had different strengths and different weaknesses, but together they were neutralized.
They couldn't stand each other but they couldn't do without each other either.
Their egos pampered and hurt each other together.
It was unsaid, undone and unrequited. It was needless because their wasn't any need to show, to do.
They could talk for hours but never agree and if they agreed it would be a catastrophe.
They were like magnets which faced their positives to each other and repelled. The repulsion was extraordinary. They flipped turned and got attracted and once again flipped turned and repelled.
It had no future no past, no start no end. It was constant.
It didn't lead anywhere now was it increasing or decreasing.
It wasn't love, or lust or sexual desire. It wasn't cheesy, it wasn't hatred. It wasn't the opposites attract and get together either.
It was some force some power ?
It was this force that was indescribable.

Theirs was story that had no end,
No fullstop,

Apprehension and Soul Searching

Another long blog post after a long time.

Shame ? YES.

The studies have been hard of me. Also, I have an incessant fear of Coordinate Geometry. Its worse that Dermatophobia (The fear of skin diseases) Which I have.

The GMAT date is taken. 27th September, yes.

Sounds like a happy day innit'? 27th is a happy date. It was the day I was born,

Thank you for the wishes.

Anyway,

I am uneasily virtually muttering and making this blog post redundant just like GMAT Verbal.

Its 1.03 am. I feel big knots in my tummy. Its the uncertain-excited-happy-sad feeling. Its slowly sinking in maybe? I was just talking to the boy about Next year.  

Next Year. I might be going away to the other part of the world. Positively, Amreeka. I am currently in the second month of my GMAT Prep. I am horrendous with my math AND I'm not exaggerating.

But, I was horrendous in school when my comfort zone was Languages and Shakespeare and Poetic Emotions. I grew a little and started to enjoy what is out of my comfort zone. Today, I feel absolutely hypocritical when I confess, I like Mathematics. So yes, Out of the comfort zone is good :)

Talking about Comfort Zones, Mumbai is Number 1 on the list. Its Where the mother is, It is where the heart is. The Sea, the saline breeze, the bittersweet Monsoon, the city and its lights, long days, longer nights. Its beauty locationalized. Its the school and the college, the friends, love, the favorite yellow and black rikshaws, the hatred for rikshawallahs, Its everything that I want but not everything that I need. 

Its the comfort zone and hence I shall leave,

I might leave,

I think I will? 

Positively on a jet plane,

To a country far away. 

But why?

I tell people I want to find myself. It sounds like a philosophical rambling. 

It sounds so mysterious.

But I want to go to a place that I don't know and meet people who don't know me. I want a sabbatical of a short span. No, Im not running away. I want to be back. Maybe its soul searching? I want to know what makes me, me. I want to shatter the ego of my talents and build some ego on my insecurities.

I want to go into a group of amazing writers and realize how meek I am and go into a group of wonderful singers and feel little. I want to realize I can dance and probably scuba dive? 

Its simple, its like a little girl who believes she's some things. She has a lot of friends and a lovely family who make her believe. She just wants to know whether its what she believes or whether its actually what it is. She wants to believe in herself and that is why just like I love math, after I got out there faced the hatred and developed my potential. I want to go out there, learn to face my potential and be everything that I think I can't while not changing anything I am. I want to be caring and emotional and chaotic just like  I am but not to the same usual people. I want to see whether I am still caring and emotional and chaotic when I am alone? That's when I am really Caring and emotional and chaotic.

 I want to experience and live and feel alive. I want to travel and meet new people and try thinking the thoughts they think. I probably want to live a little more? I want to be more and still be what I am?

Ps . I want to study Marketing. 

Midnight ramblings shouldn't affect readers.

Its a channel I use ;) 

Also, Sky diving into faith excites me (:

Much love,

And yes,

When I said I want to experience. No narcotic experience included. I don't do drugs. I am drugs *mandatory wannabe line*  Hee

Unbreakable bonds

“Grief knits two hearts in closer bonds than happiness ever can; and common sufferings are far stronger links than common joys.”

Two men, two stories, both stories become one and turn into one story that greatly gets me thinking and affects my life. This story is probably a story you have heard or seen in a movie before, names changed of course.

Salvatore, a multi billionaire. He was plump, wore the finest of clothes and almost bald but he could captivate you with his charm and poise. His attitude was arrogant yet prudent and his mind was black yet white. He was the owner of a hospital …the best hospital in Manhattan. He achieved a lot in his young age and soon, he had a chain of hospitals all over the world. Nobody had ever heard of his family and all that he enjoyed for his pleasure was a new attractive young lady each week and the aroma and taste of the rarest brewed coffee.

The other man was Richard Dickson. He was a man all of 59. Pepper grey hair, tall, freckled, an African-American and a library, literally. He was a storehouse of knowledge. If knowledge could ever be produced, reproduced or harvested he would be the manufacturing powerhouse. He could tell the entire timeline of an event, the inventor of any material thing or the answer to any mathematical or scientific puzzle. He was an average middle class man who had a beautiful wife and three children who had grown to be a beautiful lady and gentlemen. He worked in a garage to make his two ends meet.

One bright spring morning in March, turned out to be the gloomiest day of the lives of these two men. They both were detected with brain cancer, last stage, numerous cycles of chemotherapy to add time and eventually a horrible death. The irony of this entire situation was the owner of the hospital was admitted in a twin sharing room of the same hospital that he owned.

However funny it sounds, these two men, complete opposites as they were, hated each other. Arrogance and humility obviously never goes hand in hand, but then they grew to adjust, like and eventually love each other. They laughed together, played cards together and often cried together wondering what is left of their life. Richard loved to scribble and everyday Salvatore saw him scribble on a piece of paper and throw it. One morning when he woke up he saw the piece of paper and out of sheer curiosity he saw three words written, neat and crisp. “The bucket list”. Under it was a list of things that seemed rather bizarre to Salvatore like helping a stranger, climbing the Himalayas etc. Just then Richard woke up to see a wondering Salvatore with his yellow crumpled piece of paper. He told him to give it back to him but when Salvatore persisted Richard told him that it was a list of things that he wants to do before he dies and he keeps making new ones.

That day was a bright new awakening for the two of them. Salvatore his adventurous self penned down other things like Sky diving, staying the night in a pyramid and drinking till he can’t remember. Richard laughed to Salvatore’s idea thinking they were almost impossible but they made it happen. The list had “Helping a stranger”, “Laughing till I cry”,“Sky diving”, “Climbing the Himalayas”,” Going to the Taj Mahal”, “exploring Egypt” etc. They had just 3 months to live; they went against the entire world to live their dreams. They sky dived and traveled and drank and danced and that’s when, in the first time of their lives felt alive, happy and living. One day Richard’s wife called Salvatore and told them to return with a lot of pain and agony and that’s when Salvatore realized the value of his family. He returned back to Manhattan with Richard. Richard finally decided to spend the last few days with his wife as falling in love was a thing he hadn’t felt in a long time and he wanted to fall in love with her all over again. They hugged and kissed as if it were the last time but unfortunately it was. One day his wife decided to surprise him by wearing the most stunning dress she had when she met him for the first time. He waited for her to get ready and gorgeously stroll across the room and into his arms. She came dressed and pretty to make it a night to remember and saw him lying on the floor and she knew the end was near. She rushed him to the hospital.

Meanwhile, Salvatore went to meet his long lost daughter who he had broken all relationships with because she married a man from a way lower class that they were at.

He apologized to her and he told her that he loves her the most. They cried together and hugged and the moment felt like an entire lifetime he had missed. He realized that in making money he had forgotten about things that gave him a lot of happiness!

Salvatore went to meet Richard in the hospital and they spoke about their good times and laughed so much they cried. One more thing was striked off the list. They both told each other how thankful they were for having each other and the last 3 months were the most beautiful months of their lives. Richard was soon taken in for a surgery and that was when his body gave up. He died but he had lived and it was one of those few times when a person’s eyes were close and heart open.

On his funeral Salvatore spoke about how dear Richard was and how much he had changed him and his life and that is when he striked off “Helping a stranger on the list”, because they both had helped each other in ways they never knew. A month later Salvatore succumbed to the cancer but the bond always remained, and the bond is such that it makes a young girl wonder how important it is to live our life to the fullest.

Finally Salvatore’s daughter and Richard’s wife climbed the Himalayas with the remains of their ashes and buried it at the peak because they always wanted to be in the cool to have a beautiful after life. That is when she scribbled off the last point which was “to climb the Himalayas”.

Two lives that perished but a bond that will stay forever. The unbreakable bond.

Men & Women

Today I write about men and women,

About men who think they dictate the world,

And women who think they’re weak,

About women who think that husbands are gods,

Women who think they’re meek.

I write about men, who love her body more than her soul,

I write about women, who carry their hearts as if it has a hole,

Women who keep it all within their heart, and carry the burden around,

And when he sleeps they tiptoe so that they don’t make a sound.

The men who hit and fight and hurl abusive worlds galore,

But the woman decides her destiny is nothing but more.

The woman is weak I feel,

When she sits at home by the fireplace,

She cries her heart away,           

He comes and a smile she fakes.

She cooks and feeds and washes and weeps,

But then joins him in his bed,

She satisfies him again once more and the smile is still there.

She wakes up and she’s spoken to,

As if she was a curse,

But she smiles that they were words,

They could have been worse.

Her life passes and one day she’s lying in her grave,

Her man talks about their love in a manner so charming and suave.

Oh, this woman is the weak one,

The one that is silent and calm,

She should actually be like a flaming forest!

Like a loud fire alarm!

The one that screams and shouts in pain,

The one that hits back and fights,

The one that feels her being in the world

Is more than just a kite.

A kite whose string is in the hands of a man,

Who thinks he’s full of strength and might.

She should be a woman of class,

A woman who knows how to vent,

A woman who can walk upright,

She need not slouch and bend.

A woman that leads that walks side by side of the man,

The woman who doesn’t dominate but feels like a part of the human clan,

She doesn’t need protection if there’s nobody to hurt,

All she needs is a place where she doesn’t feel like dirt.

Where she isn’t looked at, as a vagina that talks,

She wants to be seen as a woman,

Who thinks and dreams and walks.

Don’t be the weak woman, who is tired weeping and pale

Be the passionate loving dynamite who can position her own sail.

Because there are men in this world,

Who are actually so kind, those deserve a strong woman,

The one that that has her own mind,

They want her to walk besides them,

Not a step behind,

Because men and women is what comprises of mankind.

Graduate

Graduation.Gottalovethis.Gottawriteaboutthis.

Lets quote:

“I don’t know if I will have the time to write any more letters, because I might be too busy trying to participate. So, if this does end up being the last letter, I just want you to know that I was in a bad place before I started high school, and you helped me. Even if you didn’t know what I was talking about, or know someone who’s gone through it, you made me not feel alone. Because I know there are people who say all these things don’t happen. And there are people who forget what it’s like to be sixteen when they turn seventeen. I know these will all be stories some day, and our pictures will become old photographs. We all become somebody’s mom or dad. But right now, these moments are not stories. This is happening. I am here, and I am looking at her. And she is so beautiful. I can see it. This one moment when you know you’re not a sad story. You are alive. And you stand up and see the lights on the buildings and everything that makes you wonder. And you’re listening to that song, and that drive with the people who you love most in this world. And in this moment, I swear, we are infinite."

― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

GRADUATION. 3+10+2+3 YEARS. 

Yes, It was a big day. It was big not because of the beautiful black robes and hats. 

It wasn't big because of the certificate or the trophies.

 It wasn't big because we were done with college. 

It was big because it was a day that connected the history and the future.

The past and the coming is what made it so worthwhile.

It was the people we met, the lessons we learnt.

It was more about the exams we failed than the exams we excelled.

It was more about the Projects we did that make us proud of ourselves.

It is about looking through pictures and memories and seeing how we've grown up.

We see a change today. Something that brightened the sparkle in our eyes.

It was the entire process. It was about scraped knees, falling off the bicycles and crying in school because we missed our mothers. It was about the Alphabet which changed into words and then into sentences. About sentences that taught us how to be meaningful. About syllables and words and speech and conversations and about art science geography and history. 

Its about the people who loved us. Its about people who hated us too. 

Its about best-friends made and lost and friends here and forgotten.

These years taught us about people and subjects and love and life. Its from zero to fifty. 

About petty crushes and Boyfriends that probably made us realize that Love is anything but mediocre.

About respect and inspiration.

It was about Projects. The ones we did heartlessly and the ones that actually made a change. 

Its not just an academic degree.

 It feels like a degree of change. To tell us that we've gotten somewhere and maybe we don't know where we're going, but we're on the way. 

Yes, This day is the Goddamn TIME CAPSULE. Its here, its beckoning, its moving swiftly past the seconds. Its taking us through the memories into the future. It is nauseating yet so pleasurable. 

And then there is the future that it connects us to.

The future is what brings fear. Uncertainty is so exciting. 

Uncertainty is what teaches me faith. The faith that its all going to be fine. 

There shall be days that will be hard but they will pass. 

There will be days that will be extraordinarily brilliant but those will pass too.

Faith is but a beautiful thing! 

One moment you're at a peak of a mountain and you decide to take a plunge because you know that the parachute will open once the free fall is over and it will take you too the plains, the sea or wherever you want to be.

This day needs us to have faith in our future in our tomorrow.

This moment is big because of its transition. Because its that moment where things will change and Change is beautiful! 

Graduation - Batch of 2013