I Feel like an Onion

Yes.. I know it isn't rather flattering, but it's absolutely true!! Let me start at the beginning of this story, if there is such a thing as 'real' beginnings or endings!

It's really amazing the kind of things a midnight chat with a friend can reveal... And I'd like to begin this article by thanking that particular friend, who, albeit for nonsense's sake, goaded me into this conclusion!

It was a simple question, really- describe yourself. But it put me into a lot of thought. How would I reply? I could go on for eons, describing myself and it might not be enough. But I couldn't think of anything then. We did chat about other things until this particular reference popped into my head.

Let me explain- I'm 5'7", slightly thin, long hair, occasionally bespectacled, etc. I'm also a student of literature, a resident of Trivandrum, proud owner of Timothy the wagging vagabond et all. I love a lot many things, and I don't like an even more number of things. I guess you could say that about yourself too...
Which brings me to my relevant, if rather obscure point. Isn't it amazing how complex each and every one of us are? I mean look at us, we're always acting on atleast three people's whims at the same time, not including our own. We have a different face for everyone- a smile for mom, a hug for the friend, a cuddle for the sister. We also have a text for the acquaintance, a second look for the cute guy on the road, a dream, a hope, a secret, a fad.... The list is endless. And life revolves around the attempt to bring all these things into perfect balance.
Which means we are always living on more than one level of existence, though we hardly realize it. Its like Hamlet says, "Seems, madam? I know not seems." But it seems we are all actors. So many layers, so many roles.... only we never realize it.
Like I said, we're always playing more than one role; living more than a double life, we're living a multi-life.

And so, shorty, here's your answer. I feel like an onion. And a thumping good one at that!

Dear Mrs.Rowling

Dear Mrs. Rowling,

Allow me, before anything else, to introduce myself. I am, one might say, one of your prized creations- Ms. G. Only yesterday I was re-reading your excellent biography of our lives- my whole world, so to say. And I was struck by a rather should-be-obvious fact; the gigantic disparity in the two worlds. I have been made to belong to both- the Muggle(non-magic, everyday) and the Wizarding(magical, hidden).

You see madam, meaning no offense, but what exactly was on your mind when you decided to place the whole lot of us in two time-zones? The everyday Muggle world is everything that the end-of-the-20th-beginning-of-21st-century ought to be.It has subways and televisions, phones and for Merlin's sake- electricity! But the wizarding world is woefully medieval. We still wear dress robes, making some of my best friends look awkwardly sissy(especially a tall, freckled and rather good-looking redhead). And then we move absurdly to Dark days- candles! When the whole wide possibility of magically producing electric-bright light was available, you still chose to put us into the half-darkness of candles and torches. And in the age of luxury hostels, a medieval castle complete with ghosts!(not denying the excitement of the latter)

And the most absurd absence of technology? No pens, we still drip ink from quills! I believe the only 'technology' you have allowed the wizarding world is a train, Mr.W's collection of plugs, a few cameras, a flying car and a flying motor bike. Sheer injustice, don't you think, for the redheaded friend of mine to be able to handle a werewolf, but to be utterly bewildered and horrified of using, as he calls it, a felly-tone!

I do agree that some of the things that is 'normal' for the wizarding world is something the technology of Muggle world could possibly never achieve. However, have you never felt that it would have been a if you had permitted us wizards a few more cars, some electricity and other such necessities? It would probably not have scared some if a certain professor weren't swooping down an electrically lit dungeon; for some others to an opportunity to add more suitable invisibility boosters; to not scare Muggles by ringing them up and then shouting at them.

Why did you choose to make us step onto a magical platform at King's Cross, only to thrust us from the 21st century to medieval times, from cars to broomsticks, comfortable jeans to classical robes; from a plush, comfortable and normal world to one of spectacular duels, fantastic animals, grotesque plants, sparks, booms and bangs?

Yours sincerely.
G.

A Choice

Have you ever noticed the beauty of a tall, green tree against a dark, storm sky? The bright green over the deep grey has a peculiar beauty- terrible yet enthralling, ethereal and strange. It is the kind of beauty that nature creates by forcing two extremes of itself; the misfit providing the essence.

Of late, life has taken on such an aspect. A constant sense of melancholy from no particular source, obscured by sunny college life, friends' jokes and warm evenings at home. But the smiles are loaned, the happiness fake and shallow.

I don't know why or how, but I believe everyone reaches a point in life where things start to feel more mechanical than spontaneous. As if your life were borrowed from someone else's; as if you were intruding into someone's personal affairs, talking to her family and making merry with her friends. Its a sort of surrealistic feeling, perpetually living in two people's lives- one happy and the other, well, not-so-happy. And it puts you into a lot of stress.

You don't know which part of your heart to listen to. Do you, like you want for yourself, retreat into the haloed shelter of solitude? Or do you continue pretending to see the brightness just so the people around you can keep smiling? Its as if your view of the world, which was colourful, has suddenly been reprogrammed to grey-scale, but the vibrant colours overlap and mix with this perception. like a scarlet thread running through a brocade of sombre blues and greys.

What would you choose if you had to- the fickle, brilliantly green foliage or the seemingly solid melancholy clods?

Or do you blame the person who gave you this choice between life and life?

eyes are birds and eyes are cheats!!!

For everyone who's wondering what the title is- they're titles of two of my favourite hindi film songs; 'Nain Parindey' from Lafangey Parindey and 'Naina Thag Lenge' from Omkara. Soulful tracks, both describing eyes as the ultimate vehicle of emotions.... As to why i'm saying all this, well i was listening to them on my phone just a little while back and was struck by their contrast! (odd thing to do, i know!!)

Nevertheless, let me get on with my story. You see, the first track is a rather paradoxical one; Deepika Padukone, tragically blinded in the film, is singing (as in the manner of hindi films) of the beauty, light and hope that eyes give you; where eyes are more like birds, flapping away into a sky of hope, dreams and beauty. In the next track, however, Rahat Fateh Ali Khan very knowledgeably and with a great deal of pain tells us to beware of your very eyes because they would cheat you while you are wide awake.

Funnily enough it got me thinking of how like life these songs were. On one hand you have your dreams. Your mind goes wandering into fantasies it creates every time it can, almost making you deal a double life of sorts; one rooted in reality and the other fluttering in dreams. and while you merrily play along this double life, fate cheats you big time - your hopes are dashed, your wishes made unheard, your dreams unfulfilled.

I've not yet figured out why we're chosen to play a drama where we know only less than half the script. Who writes it? Who's the damned director? Can the character choose, apart from in his haziest thoughts, to alter the story? And what, in essence, is the more important thing in life- the birds or the beguiling charm?

a sun behind the clouds

so often in life, you're "down".... in proper words- depressed, and maybe a little depraved while at it! and then something unexpected comes up.... and voila! things seem brighter all of a sudden!!!

like today. a most extraordinary thing happened... i'd been in some sort of depression for weeks now. god knows why, just in the mood for it, i suppose. and i hate myself when i'm like that; i fight with people, shut myself in my room, listen to sad songs, etc., etc. but today my mom changed it for me.... and how!

i was in college, trying to concentrate on the eastern dance competition when i felt my bag vibrating. discreetly i took my phone out to see mom had texted me!!! wonder of wonders!!!! she'd messaged to say that her favourite novelist was in town for a talk. once home, she literally hijacked me to the venue: we reached just on time. the talk was good in totality, but for a person more interested in the english script, certain references were incomprehensible! and then mom and i tried, nervously, to talk to the writer concerned, simply to see if he remembered any of those autographed books... second miracle of the day- he did!! once he saw his signature and a date, 34 years back, he remembered exactly whom he was talking to.

i don't know why i smiled from that moment onwards, i don't know what it was about a well-heard-of, but little-read writer that pulled me up from a state of perpetual frowns, but i want to thank that little bespectacled sun, who took his chance and shined out over my overcast days.

this piece of randomness is for m.mukundan, unaware though he might be of his effect, made me smile truly, in a long long while.:)

just a poem i wrote for the colg mag

Love's Merchandise

"All accessories of a heart for sale"
The gaily painted shop-sign's tale
"Wholesome tears, a rosy veil
To tune your heart for your own aid."

In walked a girl with timid eye,
A low bowed head, so scared, so shy.
She said," An armour of iron need I
For fooled I was by Mind and Eye."

"Oh", said the gentle lady of the shop,
"So sad you look and how you mope!
The world's been fair to you, I hope,
But why ask you for an armour maid?"

"My heart", the sobbing young lass said,
"He crushed my heart like roses red.
No wound of heart throbs long they'd said,
How wrong they were, those voices dead!"

in search of privacy....

I'm searching for privacy. Honestly.
I took a day off today, skipping a party I really should've attended, for some "me" time... and ended up text/chatting the entire day. And come to think of it, it was scary.
Here I was, hoping to sit at home, alone (albeit timmy), catch a movie on tv perhaps... and what do I do? text people left right and centre. Then I go to facebook (orkut ban since yesterday!) add a few people as friends, chat with a few and surf around till about 4pm. So much for "my" time- there goes the movie, my book and the painting I've been working on for six months and is still not beyond the sketch stage!!! Like duh!! Where'd all the time go?
HELP... Fb, sms and the net is invading my privacy.... I'm drowning in a flood of texts, chats, rofls and lols.... SOS SOS...

a drizzle, pee loon and a chilled coke

I know the title looks random. But sitting in front of the computer, taking random quizzes on facebook I've suddenly had a revelation. Life is random, not because we make it so, but because we complicate its simplicity.
Think about it, why am I doing three things at once?I'm bored, but I could as well have just picked up a book or simply chatted with my good friend(who's online now) with sincerity, not while typing this! Why do we all try to multi-task, when we could do things much better if we did them one at a time?
Is life simply an unending run from something? Is that why we feel chased and hounded and exhausted all the time?
High time we took a break people! High time we stopped biting off more than what can be chewed...

hello out there!!

kvetha fricaya...
like i said, blogging is a new adventure....
hope this venture goes well, at least better than my french lessons. i've no idea what to write now... still amazed i got through all that technology....
but once i get over my astounding and hereto unidentified genius, i'm sure my brain will proceed to function as usual, throwing up random words et all....
until then,
hobey-ho