The Happiness Post

I only very recently realised that almost every blogger tags their posts. Except me. So I decided to start, seeing as it organises everything into neat little categories. I re-opened my last few posts and tagged them appropriately and it was while doing this that I realised how I write too often and too much about 'sadness' and 'hurt' and other non-happy things. So I decided to make this post 'The Happiness Post'. In which I'm going to write about a bunch of great things that make life worthwhile, wonderful and just plain happy!

To start with, I'm happy because I've graduated (with good marks) and am steadily settling down as a freelance writer. I updated my blogger profile today and it felt slightly strange putting 'writing' as my 'occupation' but I did feel a little shiver of excitement too. I'm a writer! No longer an 'aspiring' writer but an actual, real published-and-earning-money-from-it writer! Feels great, trust me. :)

Next, although I may not be quite known yet or earning much, I do have dreams of making it big. AND the potential to achieve them. That's a start, right?

I'm happy to have a nice family and good friends who care about me, as well as so many material possessions I often take for granted. I may not be a spoilt rich kid who gets whatever she wants when she wants it but I still get enough. A lot more than enough.

I'm happy to be healthy and have people to take care of me if I fall sick. I'm especially happy and grateful to be swine-flu free!

I'm happy that I get to live in a huge house and eat good food, that I get to go the cinema whenever I wish and can listen to almost any song or read any book I want to by downloading it or getting it from the bookstore.

Gosh, now that I'm thinking about it I'm happy about so many things. For a change, I'll shut up and let some pretty pictures do the talking instead. So here are a few things that make me happy happy happy:















There. Now I have something to look back at every time I'm feeling blue. I think I'll add some more pictures too later on.
Till then, here's to happiness! Cheers.

(Pictures are taken from all over the net)

'Good'Byes.

"Why can't we get all the people together in the world that we really like and then just stay together? I guess that wouldn't work. Someone would leave. Someone always leaves. Then we would have to say good-bye. I hate good-byes. I know what I need. I need more hellos." ~Charles M. Schulz

For a third time in my life, I'm faced with some significant goodbyes. (Actually, it's the fourth time but I was too little the very first time to truly understand what goodbyes mean.)
The last two times, it was me who was leaving. This time, it's a few close friends who are. Leaving for different cities and different countries or just plain venturing out into the 'real world', which is no less-distancing, I think.
There was a time when I was totally cool with goodbyes, didn't give them a second thought, even looked forward to them! Because they meant leaving behind the past and the people I'd known way too long. They meant new adventures with new things to experience, new friends to make.
What I didn't realise is that the very fact that you get too used to having certain people around means that it becomes difficult to function without them. Every little thing reminds you of them, makes you think of what their opinion would be about it, and pushes you into a well of memories that make you laugh and cry and wish that if only...you could see them again. If only...you'd realised just how much they mean to you BEFORE you'd all too happily bid them adieu.
This time, I do know what these people mean to me. (Like they say, experience is the best teacher) And that's why I dread the prospect of saying goodbye to them. I know the drill all too well. There will be the usual exchange of 'All the Best' and 'I'll miss you' and 'Keep in touch', with practiced smiles firmly in place. But all I'll really want is burst into tears and throw my arms around them and beg them not to leave me. But that, of course, would be highly childish (a show of insecurity too perhaps) and create an unnecessary (embarassing?) scene.
Nope, wouldn't want them to have that as a last memory of me. So I'll be calm and composed and act in a mature manner considered befit of twenty-year-old-one.
After someone is gone, for a while, the emails (or nowadays, wall-posts and offline messages) will pour in regularly, at least some news every week. You'll be updated on every detail of their new life, and it'll almost feel like they haven't gone at all.
Gradually, though, as both of you get over the novelty of them moving away and return to the usual things that keep life busy (work, studies, socialising) the messages will begin to fizzle out. You'll start depending more on each other's profile updates to know what's going on in each other's lives. At times, you'll visit their profile and see a bunch of unknown faces who seem to know them just as much as you do (did?) - or maybe even better than you do. And then, the child inside you can't help but feel a little sad and left-out that you're growing apart from this person who was once such an important part of your life. You can avoid it, deny it, reject it, but deep down you know it's true. So what if you'd always jointly pledged to be best friends forever? Forever does not exist, the rational part of you knows that. 'Life goes on,' the philosopher inside you will pipe up. 'People change, circumstances change. Change is inevitable. Change is good.'
With that in mind, you somehow manage to tuck the hurt away deep inside somewhere.
You continue to talk 'normally' with the person every now and then. Just that 'normal' has become synonymous with 'platonic'. It's no longer necessary to chat to them EVERY TIME they're online like it used to be. They're probably busy talking to lots of other people and you wouldn't want to disturb. Besides, there isn't much to say anyways. Beyond the usual 'Hey, how're you? What's up?' you're so blank that it feels uncomfortable. Where there was once endless chatter, so many things to share, and silly private jokes, there is now only silence. It's easier to NOT start a conversation in the first place when you know how it's going to end up.
When you sign off though, there is again the usual 'love you, miss you, keep in touch!'. But you can't help but wonder how much truth there actually is in those words anymore. Are you saying it more out of habit or compulsion rather than because you actually mean it?
The memories come back to haunt you, of carefree days where you'd never imagined being apart, of days that that are gone. For good. Days that were gone the moment you said that smiling goodbye. Yes, techonology has made keeping in touch real easy. The world seems like one small place where everyone is just a few clicks away, but is it really possible to have an entire relationship and not even look at a person?
That is why, I hate goodbyes. They mean endings. (New beginnings too, I know, but...) People should not leave. It seems childish to say that, selfish too. But I don't care, isn't everyone a teeny bit selfish about people they love?
However, at the cost of sounding cliched and going slightly off point, as much as I hate goodbyes, I can't help but think that they make up the very meaning of life. For like they say, the only guarantee in life is death. And what worse goodbye is there than that?

Fictitious Truth

She had a daydream she loved escaping to. A daydream in which everything was perfect: She, with him. Madly in love with each other. Although it was a daydream, it was vividly alive. She could feel it, almost as if it was real. She could imagine his strong arms around her, holding her like she was the most precious thing in his world. She could inhale the woody-spicy scent of his cologne that she loved so much. She could almost taste the gentle blaze of his lips against hers. She was his princess. He was her whole world. She could do anything for him, sacrifice everything. No person, no thing, no opportunity was more important than him. It was just the two of them - lost in each other. Blissful.
She would fall asleep in his protective embrace. He would gaze at her with eyes alight with the burning sparkle of intense, undying love.
When she looked into them, a song would play, somewhere in her heart: 'Tujh main rab dikhta hai, yaara main kya karun...Sajde sar jhukta hai, yaara main kya karun...' ('I glimpse God in you. I can't help it. I bow down to worship you. I can't help it.)
Then, somwhere in real life, someone would call her name. Again. And again. And she would finally snap out of the bubble. And come crashing back to crushing reality. The song would change: 'Kahin to hogi wo...duniya jahan tu mere saath hai' ('It must be out there somehwere...a world where you're with me'.) She would hear a sound no one else could. The sound of her heart breaking. Yet again. Because it was only a daydream. A ridiculous one at that. In reality, she would look at him with eyes full of love and see none of it reflected back, instead catching only a faint gleam of mild amusement.
'You're fat,' he would tell her. And it was true.
'Don't sing, your voice is funny.' he would tell her. And it was true.
'You're not half as beautiful as the girls I go out with,' he would tell her. And it was true.
'And you're stupid,' he would tell her. 'For thinking that I could like you.' And this too was true.
For she glimpsed God in Him. (She couldn't help it.) And God, for one, did not lie.



(Picture from here)

"Mere chote chote, pyaare pyaare, dreamf"

The above is a line of dialogue from the latest Hindi movie, 'Kaminey'.




Meaningfully translated it means 'My sweet little dreams", but the protagonist who says the line in the movie has a lisp, hence 'dreamf' instead of 'dreams'. The other protagonist is this character's twin brother and he has a stutter. The movie in my opinion is one of the finest Hindi flicks ever made. There's a sizzling dash of romance, lots of suspense and a gripping story grounded in the blatant reality of Bombay - oops, I mean Mumbai - today. (However, you need to be at least vaguely familiar with Indian politics to actually 'get' the undercurrents of the story)
Shahid Kapur - who plays both the lisping and the stutterring protagonists - has long been my favorite actor (he's cute!) but there's no arguing about the fact that this is definitely his best performance to date. What a challenge it must have been perfecting both the speech defects simultaneously!
The music is exceptional. There are peppy dance numbers, a soulful love ballad and a hard-hitting title track, with the following hatt ke lyrics that I instantly fell in love with:

Kya kare zindagi isko hum jo mile,
Iski jaan kha gaye, raat din ke gile- 2 times
Raat din gile…
Meri aarzoo kamini,
Mere khwab bhi kaminey,
Ek dil se dosti thi, yeh huzoor bhi kaminey,
Kya kare zindagi isko hum jo mile,
Iski jaan kha gaye, raat din ke gile…


I won't translate it because there are no English words to bring out the exact meaning. But if you understand Hindi then you know what 'Meri aarzoo kamini, mere khwab bhi kaminey' means. How true is that, at least in part, for every single one of us? Don't we all have certain dreams that are, for lack of a better word, 'kamini'? Don't all of us have inside us a certain degree of 'kaminapan' just like Charlie says in the voice-over at the start? All you need to do is watch a single episode of 'Sach Ka Saamna' (the Indian version of the gameshow 'The Moment of Truth') to confirm, that yes, none of us is a saint. We all have our fair share of 'deep, dark secrets' that at times make us feel guilty but most of the time are just a part and parcel of being human. Whether it be something relatively small like lying to someone who trusts us or more serious like betraying someone we love or simply scandalous thoughts about causing someone irreversible harm, every human being is prone to have some shades of grey, or even just plain pitch black. But that doesn't mean we're any less 'good'. Most of the time, our 'morals' or 'values' as we call them do triumph over our 'kaminapan'.
Another line from the voice-over is 'ye life badi kutti hai' - Life's a bitch. Don't we all agree? At least at those moments when life just flips over when we least expected it and leaves us totally screwed. The movie gives a perfect example of just such a moment. Charlie doesn't want much...just lots of easy money and success and a nice happily ever after. Don't we all? What could possibly be wrong about going after our own 'chote chote, pyaare pyaare, dreamf'? Whether they be grand plans of penning a bestseller, winning the Pulitzer or the Man Booker, getting fame and recongition, owning a nice house, writing and directing a blockbuster, performing in fornt of millions, making it in the world of glamour, exceeding people's expectations of us, 'showing the world' what we're made of, or more humble ones of finding someone nice to love and cherish, building a family with them and growing old together, doing a job we love and making enough money to live comfortably, taking cozy little holidays and simply enjoying all that the world has to offer.
But alas, how often our 'plans' just go plain wrong. Not to worry though. Eventually, things work out pretty okay. That's what we like to believe at least. After all, we're not all that 'kamina' that we don't deserve at least a bit of a happily ever after, right?
Damn, right.

My City

I feel like I'm writing after ages. The past week has passed in a blur of fever and flu and rib-cracking coughing fits. No, no, I didn't have swine flu, thank God. It was just the regular viral fever thingy. It's left me feeling like I'm back from the dead though - not much energy to spare at all. :( I spend a lot of time trying to sleep off the mysterious fatigue.
I didn't have any idea what to write about today, then I remembered that a friend of mine is moving to Toronto for his postgrad studies, and that brought on a mighty wave of nostalgic and induced me to write about all the wonderful memories I have of that place - my most favorite in the world.
The first thing I'd noticed when I landed in Toronto exactly 4 years ago (15th August 2005) was how the air smelt different - cleaner. Then, I noticed how EVERYTHING was different - neat, spotless, organised, progressing like clock-work. I loved the wide streets with the special pedestrian lights and the greenery all around. I liked the skyscrapers that lined the downtown area, with all their gleaming glass and busy occupants walking in and out and up and down the street. I loved the quiet buzz of the huge city. It felt like home, even though I only stayed there six months. I honestly think I was born to live in a big city like Toronto or New York. There's just something totally irresistable about their swift pace of life.
I loved the crisp sunlit mornings, even when the temperature dipped way below zero, and the walks I used to take around the University of Toronto downtown campus. I loved the black squirrels scurrying around in the grass and up the trees, their fur in sharp contrast to the brilliant white of the fallen snow. I loved the feel of the gently-falling snow on my skin, and the way it would blanket everything in fluffy white. I even loved the rain and the gloom that would prevail for days on end sometimes!
I loved the people and how there were so few of them yet so many different backgrounds, different stories, different languages, all blending to form one splendid cultural mosaic.
I loved the CN Tower with its breathtaking aerial view and its famous glass floor. I loved the Niagara falls and the little town of Niagara-on-the-Lake which looked like something out of a storybook. I loved the vineyards and the rolling countryside and the sheer beauty of the surroundings.
Most of all, I loved the travelling. The buses, the subway, the streetcars, I loved them all! I've never enjoyed using public transport so much. I would hop on and people-watch or read or just sit back and gaze out the window at the passing cityscape and feel an amazing sense of peace. Toronto is a peaceful place, just like I'm a peaceful person. It's the only place that makes me feel free and independent and in-charge and, most importantly, safe. Like I said, it felt like home. And I will surely return some day. I've left a bit of myself with that city. My city.

Love, Cynically.

I grew up on a steady diet of romantic stories and idealistic notions. A lot of girls do, I guess. But I wish we didn’t.
I wish I’d never read Cinderella or Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs or all the shelves full of romantic teen novels that followed. I wish I had never acquired my insatiable preference for romance movies, especially the silly Hindi flicks I can’t live without today. I wish I had never believed so much in a fairytale world that did nothing but mess up mind and leave it overflowing with impossibly unrealistic hopes of true love and soul mates and the quintessential ‘happily ever after.’
Because it’s all bullshit. Utter bullshit. If love is so powerful, why is it that by the time it actually gets around to working that power (the few rare times that it does) it is almost always much too late? After irreparable damage has already been done and unspeakable despair has already been suffered. Why can’t it work its so-called ‘magic’ earlier and save everyone all the pain?
Yesterday, I watched the latest ‘silly romantic movie’ to hit the theatres – Love Aaj Kal. It’s a movie that the old me would have swooned over, added to her list of ‘favorites’, watched a countless times. But the new me – this person that love has turned me into – couldn’t hold back a cynical smirk when the movie ended in a typical and absolutely predictable ‘happily ever after’ style. I would have loved the movie a hell lot more if, for a change, boy and girl DIDN’T end up together. If somehow Imtiaz Ali (the writer-director) had reflected the sad truth that love doesn’t always triumph. That it is the only a very small percentage of people who actually end up being with the person they truly love. The rest of us just simply compromise and learn to accept whatever unjust fate destiny sentences us to. If the end had been as unconventional as the concept, this movie would have truly marked the coming of age of the archetypical Bollywood romance.
Yes, I am being insufferably cynical here. But I can’t help it. I am sick of love. No, actually, I am sick of the idea of love. And I am saying this despite never having been in a relationship. I don’t think it’s necessary to have had experience with romantic relationships to be able to comment on love. In fact, that is part of where this cynicism stems from – the fact that I’m not in a relationship despite being in love. If true love really is all that great, why is it so often unreturned? If I was God, I would have made it impossible to feel that heart-wrenching, stomach-churning, world-upturning crunch of love for someone without having them feel it right back for you. Because, what exactly is the POINT of all the hurt that that causes me? It makes me learn something? Makes me stronger? Yeah right, all it really does is fill me with this cynicism that’s motivating me to write this as well as makes me bitter and wary and depressed. It also beats up my self-esteem, self-confidence and self-respect. Uh-uh. No thanks. I would rather not fall in love at all than fall and risk going through this indescribable anguish. And I don’t care whatever some famous person said about ‘it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’
That, and all the millions of quotes/songs/stories that try to make unrequited/failed love look so beautifully sad and romantic only provide temporary comfort and respite. In the long run, all they do is strengthen the pathetic delusions about love that we are exposed to from a young age, and this causes nothing else but more hurt. Which is neither beautiful nor romantic but just plain ugly and painful, something I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy.
In a way, even hate is better than love. At least when you hate someone it doesn’t totally distract you or take control over you like how love does. At least hate doesn’t inseparably cling to your heart all the effing time and make it impossible to function without thinking of the other person. At least hate doesn’t destroy your peace of mind.
I think hate and love are like the devil and the deep blue sea. If you dive into the sea, and manage to swim, sooner or later you’re going to tire, you’re going to want to rest, and that’s when it’ll suck you in and drown you mercilessly. It’s like fighting a losing battle. Whereas if you confront the devil, there is still the slightest chance of somehow getting away unscathed.

There. I don’t think I’ve ever written something this bitter or cynical before. But it was just something I had to do. Yes, I am perfectly okay and not in the depths of depression. I am not against love – I am just against the idealistic notions attached with it. I still love reading and watching romance, but I do take all of it in a purely fictional sense now, with a dash of humor or witty sarcasm thrown in here and there. I’m not going to believe in the ‘true love is all powerful’ shit until I personally experience it. For now all I know is that love doesn’t seem to have anything to do with what I feel in my heart for someone – it won’t make the slightest difference in the world to them when I open up about my deepest feelings and express how truly and unendingly I care for them. What matters are fickle things like whether I have pretty eyes or an arresting smile or how slim I am. Real love – the unconditional, all-triumphing kind that books and movies are made of– is a load of tosh – at least until it happens to me. IF it happens to me.

(Picture from allpoetry.com )