Silence and the Words

On the drive back from work to the place where I am staying, my eyes flipped between the odometer on the dashboard of the car and the air conditioning vent gushing out cold air at 23degreeC. Occasionally I raised my eyes to stare blankly outside the windshield of the car, unmindful of the various sights and sounds cruising past me at 125kmph.This evening, I was not being my usual cheerful self. I was not planning to explore tonight the new city I find myself to be in. Tonight, I did not want to venture out into finding new ways of spending the rials I have in wallet.

I am still trying to figure out the thing that had turned me off or exactly when or how it came about. In fact, this is what was on my mind when I drove back from work. I had started playing a game with me; I was trying to describe how I feel tonight as succinctly as possible, and so succinctly that I tried not to make the description last longer than a word.

I thought I felt weird, which I chose to replace with unsatisfied, which was not a very good choice either. A string of words raced through my mind just like the beautiful views on Al Qurm Heights Road in the national capital city of Muscat, raced past outside the car.

And of course, more often than not, such thoughts strike mostly when the scales of emotions are tilted on the negative side. Alas, human nature! I have not yet learnt to encounter pensiveness in jubilation. I have found myself turning a little quiter over the past few month, a little more restrained, a little less voluble. I offer different explanations ranging from New Year resolutions to growing-up for this phenomenon to people around me.

All along, I have tried to live with the personal motto of "18 'til I die", but I guess 24 is soon catching up with me. I guess I need to replace this with "age with grace" now. So far, so good. Again, I guess the one word game for emotions stems out from this very same turn of events. I am being brief and I have now found the word which describes how I feel tonight.

I feel "incomplete"!

If you read this, please leave a comment behind. Tell me how you feel in one word. I look forward to hearing from you!

What some people think I am...

It is Tuesday evening and I am still my Client's office for discussing a project we intend to do for them. Everything was wrapped up by the afternoon, however, it is the documentation that is taking so long. While I wait, I thought I should share something with my virtual world.

Here are the top five things that people tell/ask me regarding my nativity. Listing them in reverse of order of hilarity:

No. 5
"You look like a south Indian." That is what soooo many people have told me.

No. 4
"You are Christian, G, is it not?" I wonder how people come to that conclusion just from a person's appearance. Blah!

N0. 3
This was my masseuse asked me while she massaged my back. "You are a Goan, are you not?"

No. 2
"Are you Madrasi?" That is the question that my Professor always flicked at me in spite of reminding him several times that I belong to the same region as he.

Now for the gem of all and this one is also my favourite.

No. 1
"G, you are Sri Lankan." That is not even a question but an affirmative statement from the same gentleman who asked me if I was Madrasi.

Ohh good. Everything wrapped up. It is time to leave. This meeting is over for good.
Leaving for Chennai tomorrow.

A Letter for *****

This was originally supposed to be an email for a friend, but then I changed my mind because I didn't want to be so explicit to a man and so it finds its place here. I hope he would visit my page to read this.

Dearest *****,

Remember that some time back you asked me to be straightforward with you. I never thought I would have to put it so explicitly to any man, but there is this thing that I think I should tell you. It's about why women are the way they are. Why do they seem so be such an entangled mass of thoughts that a man could very easily lose himself in there. He is just lost in some women but then he also finds himself when he is lost in thoughts for that one woman. You will come across a number of women who will mesmerize you, flabbergast you, disgust you, love you, hate you, make you come across a zillions emotions you never knew you had the capacity to feel. That is the power we hold, though we are all females of the same species, we don't have much in common.

There are a number to things we do because it feels good, it feels right. Do not go around pushing a woman for reason about why she feels the way she feels unless it is physics or any other scientific subject. You will need to have a lot of patience with her. Let her take her time when she is arguing but never leave her in the middle of it.

When we feel strongly about someone, we hesitate to admit it, even to ourselves. We know that post admission it becomes difficult to move on especially when the feelings are not reciprocated. When we ask a question, there is no right answer or wrong answer but the answer that we want to hear and it will not be difficult figuring out what we want to hear. We love to hear someone speak what we think. So, may be once in a while you can let go off you staunch stance and take our side. Also, when we ask a question, we do not like having a no for an answer, unless that is what we are expecting, but then once we have it, we feel disappointed for a moment. Always avoid answering in ‘hmm’ too much. It makes us wonder if it is a yes or a no. Please save us the trouble.

It is also very easy to bring a cheer on our faces or make us feel truly happy. A genuine compliment, a smiling "Good Morning", a flower, a good movie or book, a lovely walk or a talk, a nicely brewed cup of coffee or ale, a refreshing breeze, the smell of wet earth, a good shop, fresh grocery, absolutely anything could make our day but the catch is, you'll need to mix and match, find what goes with who. That is where you will need to use the grey cells in your head.

We take a hell lot time when we have to get dressed for a special occasion, but you cannot blame us, we like being complimented and feeling good about ourselves. We have a penchant for sweet, romantic, emotional flicks, after all that is what we wanted to be seeing in one of you. We all love to shop and spend hours at it. When you find one your good friends downcast, take her shopping, she will be all fixed up in a jiffy. However, a word of caution, the whole thing could backfire if she does not find what she is looking for.

Some of us might remain as stagnant as a pond while some of us might be a gurgling stream, but then all of us share the same passion, the same nameless mysterious entity, that you call ‘complicated’ which makes each one of us who we are.

We have tricks that will outlast a lifetime. You will never get bored with us. Every day is new adventure, because, even after spending a lifetime with us, you will find yourself being surprised on more than just one occasion.

Though I have not more 24 years of experience in this field, but then there might a thing or two that I should know.

“Patience is virtue” was never truer than when you are with us.

Eventually, it is this virtue that will lead you to her who will make you experience what we truly stand for.

Love,
G

Love?

It is the topic most widely written on, it is the word most softly whispered about and it is the emotion most desperately desired to be felt. Many people say love is all about sacrifice, about selfless giving but somehow I have never been able to see them eye to eye on the notion. Like all the zillion times before, and again today, I wish somebody could define accurately what it is all about. Why does it capture one’s fascination the way it does and make most of us feel like some starved souls ever hungry for that piece of love? And does pain essentially have to be associated with love. Why did a human being ever come up with its depiction of an arrow brutally piercing a red heart! I never intended to think on those lines but my thoughts themselves seem to carve out a course when this topic creeps up. Yes, it creeps up close stealthily, lodging itself in all those places where one is sure to take notice of it which would then give it the liberty to divulge more about what it is capable of!

What fascinates me even more is how it transcends all barriers! In a country like mine, where marriage is a much rationalised event, where for centuries it has been a ground to breed superior progeny, where the groom and the bride are practically oblivious of each other’s existence until the day they are told that who they are to be spending the rest of their live with, one does not come across existence of a reality from the last century where love did transcend barriers. On the brighter side, thing are changing but on the darker side is it for the good? I don’t intend to spark of a debate and somehow every topic not matter how remotely it is related to love is so debatable.

Now, what I truly intended pen down was that I did come across one such reality that though they do not transcend many big barriers but are no less than a fairytale. Imagine a young man five feet and five inches tall, weighing seventy-six kilograms proposing to a young woman standing five feet nine inches tall and weighing thirty-eight kilograms at the very first meeting! A stark contrast, is it not? Further, the two are extremely ambitious and have ambitions that no matter how much they try will not let them stay together. Call me myopic or what you may, but I shall have never considered this relationship successful if it was narrated to me by someone other than the five feet five inches tall young man, Robert (though old now and a father to two beautiful young ladies). Robert tells me that love is important, but what is even more important is the understanding that he shares with Dorothy. They never left trivial things disrupt their conjugal relationship and that they had taken a vow together to deal with any matter of such consequence within the very period of twenty four hours and never to sleep on it. He further adds with a satisfied smile that their children are the strongest bonds that hold them from drifting apart. A successful relationship is one which matures with the time spent on it, nurturing and tending to it like a well-kept garden. A fruitful twenty-two years later, he lives in Madras with his two princesses while she lives in Bombay and comes home to her family every two weeks. Robert looks at me excitedly when he speaks about her being home this weekend!

I don’t know why I am more satisfied with the thought of love being the consequence of an association rather than the other way round. Like always, this debate will forever go on!

The DRAGON of an Energy Within

As I browsed through some old pictures that I clicked as someone with a new found interest in photography, I came across a picture of a Gothic architectural piece that captured my fascination like it never had before, even stranger was that it had always been there waiting for me to take notice of it. Dragon sculptures have been one of the most exploited features of Gothic architecture and why shouldn’t they be after all they have long been an embodiment of enormous strength and a courage which doesn’t mean absence of fear but the existence of something far more important than fear. They have been featured everywhere from the cathedral tympanums to the gargoyles which drain out water. If that’s not all then there are the stories spun in mythology and folklore about them which span continents and every culture has conceived its own native version.

The first time I came across these fanciful creatures was through the Chinese cartoons where the creatures had long serpentine bodies with large fearsome fire-breathing whiskered heads. There were both benevolent and malevolent dragons and in the particular cartoon show that I remember, a red dragon (malevolent) and a white dragon (benevolent) battle again each other across the skies over a village and towards the end culminating into one to create a richly coloured golden dragon, the sacred protector of the village. I instantly fell in love with the symbolism – synchronising the aggressor and harmonious to bring out the best in oneself. We have our very own native version of the dragon – The Seshnāga, I knew them more as Lord Vishnu’s recliner. I apologise for being blasphemous. Then there is the evil five-hooded serpent, the Kāliyā, who was defeated by a dancing juvenile Krishna. These Indian serpents are designed to look more like Chinese dragons in the Thai or Malay or Indonesian adaptation of the mythology. The dragon territories were then diversified by the Greco-Roman and the Norse mythology. They made such lovely bedtime stories. A same culture seems to have mothered all other culture, it but another diaspora.

Growing up, I came across the Dragonheart – the best dragon movie with the best “dragon-effects” and yes, for a change a male dragon which I realised later on. Later, Harry Potter happened to me which plunged me into this new found world of sorcery laden with every mythical creature encountered in the Greek and Roman mythology. Many thanks to Ms. JK Rowling and the Goblet of Fire. Would it be same without the ruthless Hungarian Horntail of a mother that Potter was to get across? I wish there were as detailed descriptions of the Chinese Fireball, the Common Welsh Green and the Swedish Short-Snout. I wish I could in real life run into some Charlie Weasley who rears dragons in Romania and wish I could have Hagrid’s Norbert, the Norwegian Ridgeback for a pet.  Finally, I think I should get a copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Salamander (note the play of words in the name).

However, the same creatures were cast in my favourite manner by Mr. JRR Tolkien. Though there weren’t many of them, but then Smaug satisfied my palate. Reflections on the power accorded to these gigantic creatures, the fire they breathed was sure to destroy the One-Ring but there being no more of the kind after Smaug, the entire journey to the Mount Doom had to be undertaken, hence, the legend of the Lord of the Rings is born! His creations are a complete epic in themselves. Oh, there was this creature which could come in as a close ancestor to the dragons, the Nazgûl-birds. It’s possible they were once benign dragons fallen to the power of Lord Sauron who turned them into evil just as he did to the Ringwraiths. One must definitely see the last flick, The Return of the King. 

Last night I finished watching the Eragon. It had been on my mind ever since it was released over two years ago and last night was when I finally got through with it. In fact, the tale of Eragon and Saphira inspired me to type down this post. The bond the dragon shares with it’s rider that his death results in the death of the dragon as well and that dragon would  wait forever to hatch from it’s egg if it has to before it finds its rider. It’s the again the hidden power that needs a the guidance of conscious soul. Most importantly, it’s been emphasized in every creation about them that the blood of a dragon has magical properties. Another dragon that I instantly fell in love with was Mushu, the cute little red guardian spirit of Mulan.

Talking about how some people are crazy for dragons, the Welsh national flag features a dragon which goes by the name of Y Ddraig Goch. Just so you know, it is always a red coloured dragon which defeated the white coloured Saxon dragon. And more, there’s a proposal to alter the union flag of Great Britain so as to feature the Welsh Dragon on it. Speculating further on the matter, I think the Scottish Loch Nessie could be a distant relative to the Goch. Speculating further, I feel they are the imaginative descendants of our prehistoric friend the Pterodactyl thought they were discovered only in the late 18^th century and the dragon legends predate the event. “MAYBE”, they were discovered by someone long back and spun into tales which would survive for ages and ages. But we have a big maybe in double quotes! Oh damn, how I love speculating.

Now, when I have typed all that, it’s time for some afterthought. Incidentally, the word dragon derives from the Greek drakōn from Greek derkomai which means “I see clearly”. Does that mean anything further? Why are most of the dragons females? HP has more female dragons mentioned in the books than the male ones. Sephira is again a female dragon! I am back to the same thought stream as when I think why all hurricane names are feminine. Is it because of the power they posses? But hell, men are physically stronger than women. Then, maybe it doesn’t have to deal with physical strength at all. Maybe, it is because it calls for both physical and emotional integrity, an inherently feminine trait, which sanctuaries great power. “With great power there must also come - great responsibility.” A woman when benign is a nurturer and when infuriated she is nothing short of a catastrophe and then, women are more responsible which is a very emotional trait. We in India worship the Goddess Shakti, the active feminine energy. So, all these dragons in all the various cultures speak of something - the immense reservoir of energy that lies hidden in each one of us and which if unchecked could reduced the world to ashes - we need to tap this potential and bring out the compassionate dragons in us, the highest level of personal development. I am already bonding with my Dragon, she is called Gnosiofera.

Attachments of the Trivial Kind

I never knew that an early morning bath would make me this sick! I have been nursing a bad bout of cold for the last three days and it is still as persistent as ever, cannot believe I have my nose and throat blocked in this sweltering weather which could literally fry eggs on the pavement. And now that I have my olfactory avenues are all stuffed and I am oblivious of all the smells and odours around me, I think of the various smells that remind and reminded me of so many things. Each smell weaves a singular story in itself.

How strange it is that the smell from freshly washed hair of every person is so...umm...indescribable. I wish I knew the word that could be used to describe such a fragrance. Though the fragrance of the hair product used makes a huge difference, but a non-fragrant shampoo wouldn’t fail to create a similar. I remember as a child clinging to Ma, my nose buried in her freshly washed wet hair, when she stepped out of the bath. I have found the same smell in the hair of all the men that I have dated; it is so pure - maybe as pure as the smell from the hot soil when it is cooled by the first spell of rain.

Lately I have also come to realise how I get so attached to little things in my life. I remember losing a pendrive way back in my senior year of college, I missed it terribly then and spilled gallons of tears over it! Yeah, tears are like always on the brink of spilling out of my eyes but that was a good pendrive. Same with my cellphone, though I know that I have lost it and it’s not coming back, when I hear the old ringtone ringing I start rummaging my pockets and bag only to let the realisation set in that it’s another goner.

Getting back to smells, I use a certain nails and hands lotion which has this peculiar smell that reminds me Grandma’s pickled mangoes. Curious, is it not? Yet again, there’s this smell of sundried clothes washed in surf excel that remind me of Ma and makes me feel so warm and safe. Ma’s wardrobe smells so pleasantly of it. And Dad still smells of some cologne he used long back though he doesn’t use it any longer, it seems that fragrance has stuck to his personality or maybe it was always the smell of his persona.

Then there are the scary smells, I detested and to this day detest the smell of diesel from the public buses. I have suffered from motion sickness for a long time and this particular odour happens to be single reason to which the cause can be attributed. I also remember being told as child that one could also smells snakes and I thought that I did smell one on some such occasion. I was never the kind who would go chasing after a snake but I do remember giving one particular snaky creature the fright of its life. Rather we both scared the life out of each other and backed away at such awesome speeds! It was on that night I realised that they were as scared of us as we were wary of them.

However, the most heavenly fragrance is the fragrance of love. How one tends to attach oneself to the smells and odours and fragrances of the one person one is in love with. Having been in a romantic relationship for a brief period of my life, I remember how I had become attached to the fragrance that was soaked in his shirt, his skin and I would smell it around me when I was alone. It’s eerie. I always thought it to be his deodorant but only later realised it was more of his sweat than anything else. I never knew the smell of sweat could be so intoxicating, is it not supposed to stink? There have also been a couple of occasions that I have picked up the same fragrances while passing by total strangers and it’s plunged into such nostalgic desires of longing.

But then, it is very human to be human, I am sure. We readily attach ourselves to these really trivial phenomena, and these become permanently etched in our memories like the beautifully stained glass works. Just as easy it is to recall the stories associated with them, as difficult it is to get rid of them. They stay on like the decorative vestiges.

The Today

Like always I reached my workplace late (we don’t have flexi timings), made it there at 9:10:57 (the time displayed on the fingerprint scanner). Had I made it before 9:05, I would have been considered to have come on time. So, I got late by a bloody 5 minutes and whatever seconds. This is my daily morning routine, take a 21G at 8:30, then a 54 or M49 at 8:40, and try to get to work by 8:55 but that rarely works out as there is a considerable idle (waiting) time in the process, thought I’ve made it to work on time on more than a surprising number of occasions, but somehow punctuality is a difficult tea to drink, or maybe vodka, I find it too bitter to sip, have to tipple the whole of it down my throat. Otherwise, Chennai has a fairly decent city transport service, however, they are all always overflowing with people, carrying thrice their actual capacity I believe or maybe it’s only twice but it’s still more than the rated capacity.

I work with this Business Development Cell and my manager (A) is really cool. A never minds my turning up late everyday. It was to be my first busy day in the last 6 months since I’ve had my first ever full-time job. I was receiving offers for all the product enquiries I had sent over the last week. The work day was all reading mails, replying to them, calling up the suppliers, clarifying and making queries, in short really busy. Also, there was this call I had to make to one of the suppliers. Let’s call this gentleman D. D called me up confirm if I had received their offer which I did. About an hour later, I called up D as there were a few things in the offer I did not understand. D explained me things for a good half hour and by this time my head had gone whizzy and damn, flirt bug had bitten me bad and then there was this moral self in me that said “Darling, try behaving like a professional once” and I reasoned with myself that I am happy being an amateur flirt, don’t want to be a professional flirt so soon. Khay, I can crack PJ’s with myself, I know. Anyways, D had a nice voice and was very courteous. Towards the end of our discussion, D cleared his throat and hesitated when he asked this, “So S (yup, that's me), you are not from Chennai, are you?” I had to muster all my will so that I did not make any cheeky replies. Boy, was that tough? I hung up five minutes later, giggling. And for all you wondering, no, I did not get asked out for lunch or dinner or anything.

Also, there’s this sweet kid (R) who occupies the cubicle next to mine. Though, he’s not really a kid, but he’s a chartered accountant, totally naïve and uncorrupted. So, I call him a kid. When he has the urge to laugh, he has to rush to bathroom to laugh out all loud, which he does quite often. R told in the morning about the Satyam fracas. I was so busy all morning; I could not logon to timesofindia.com which I usually check every hour. However, the Satyam fraud was the biggest story of the day, the confession letter from Mr. Ramalinga Raju, the plummeting share prices, all the speculation, it sure must have been a crazy day for the lot. And then R began speculating on PwC’s collusion in the fraud.

Finally, on my way back to my place, I came across two middle-aged gentlemen debating over Satyam’s market-close share prices and in the night, when I called my little brother to check up on him, he asked me, “Did you learn of the Satyam fraud?” When I answered in affirmative, he enquired, “When?” I replied it must have haven been around eleven then. He said, “Oh, I did not get to know about it until some time later!” Then the usual stuff about his grades that he always tries not to discuss with me thought this I congratulated him on his performance which he again defended saying that it was not good. The guy cannot take either a compliment or a criticism from me, but he’s a good child.

That was today, and now it’s goodnight.

Nostalgia - New Year, Old Memories

Though this might be another post for the series titled Nostalgia but, no dear reader, it’s not digging up old graves. Let one subtly put it as taking a nice light stroll down the memory lane. It doesn’t concern a specific memory or event but rather the whole chain of happenings happening around us that we were too absorbed to take even little notice of or give a thought or two to. I dedicate this post to the music and the adfilms that people from my generation grew up listening to and watching.

Before going to bed on the New Year’s Eve, I had this urge in me to listen to this old number “Someone out there” by Code Red. I am not sure how many people still remember but they were touring this part of the world about 10 years ago, they released a single with Asha Bhonsle and were driving girls crazy with their boyhood. How could we forget the phenomenon that we were so much a part of? Remember the boyband mania that gripped us like bad bouts of flu which would make us get together in groups and swing to the melodies of OTT, Backstreet Boys, The Moffats, Boyzone, A1, Westlife, 911 and so many more and not forgetting the girl bands, Spice Girls, Solid Harmonie, B*Witched, Dixie Chicks, Destiny’s Child, well, until they all split up. How naive were we then!  Though, it’s nice to see groups like PCD still making it big, the new age girl power music. However, now our mature music sense translates into rock and metal bands like “Linkin Park, Avril Lavigne, Pink Floyd, Scorpions, Eagles, etc.” and “Def Lepard, Korn, Iron Maiden, Rammstein, Pantera, etc.” respectively, but I am not complaining. I like my new music so much better, so much more like me – rebellious, gregarious, high-spirited, loud, passionate!

Now what really got me going with this post did not take place until the first morning of 2009 when my dear friend Ghanshu (as we so affectionately call him) decided to im me url’s of old adfilms on youtube. It started with the dusty old advertisement for Hajmola masterji, and making its way to Vicks ki goli lo, khich khich door karo. I was so immersed in the feeling of nostalgia (How I wish there were a word without the root ‘algos’ and instead the Greek root for joy!) by now that I spent the next two hours cleaning off dust and cobwebs that had settled on a section of my memories. It was pure joy watching the ‘Mile sur mera tumhara’ and ‘Purab se surya uga’ (The National Literacy Mission Promotional Film), running across my then favourite Cadbury ad: “Kuch khaas hai hum sabhi mein”; the Mentos, “fresh goes better, fresh goes fresher with mentos fresh and full of life”, “I love you...Rasna” and humara Bajaj, “Buland Bharat ki buland tasveer”. Remember the Titan piano theme, or the catchy Complan song “The skirt can’t you see, is so high above the knee, but I am growing mummy. You play basketball and don’t come when I call, but I am growing mummy. You put doggie up so high, can you please tell me why, but I am growing mummy!” All of it feels so vintage now, like those semi-precious nuggets which adorn the antique shops. It makes me sigh and gaze and smile to myself.

Wow, time is swift, it does race by.

Another Year, Another Set of Resolutions

I need not say further, the title says it all.

The ones to achieve in the first quarter of the year:

• Hog on chocolate, make up for the all the time lost on it
• Refrain from taking a resolution for abstaining from cheese
• Finish reading Adam Smith's The Wealth of Nations
• Buy an epilator (and stop making excuses why not to)
• Start wearing more colours and not just black, white, grey and blue
• Talk less on phone, use Skype and Gtalk instead**
• Learn to keep my table and wardrobe tidy and organised**
• Find a Swatch outlet in the city
• Make a trip to Ooty and Kodaikanal
• Learn to swim**
• Tame my hair**
• Crib less**
• Learn basic Tamil
• Start wearing make up

The ones to achieve over the entire year:

• Be the old fussy, finicky, choosy (more synomyms anyone?) self - BE THYSELF
• Lose a couple of kilograms and maintain it
• Fall out of love and fall back into it again, of course with someone new**
• Figure out my life and career and keep one from encroaching upon other
• Learn a South East Asian language (Chinese or Japanese)
• Keep in touch with all the old friends/foes (I am still around, you like it or not)
• No more snooping on my ex's girlfriend**
• Check on my baby brother more often
• Be good to street animals
• Get up early in the morning**
• Go to bed early in the night
• Spend more time at home
• Keep my appointments with Kaya, Loreal, etc. etc.
• Write, write, write more often!

** - failed resolutions!

The Tennyson Lover in Me

Reading Tennyson has always been an immense pleasure for I often suffer from obession-like bouts where I could go on reading a piece of poetry for weeks altogether. I am suffering from one such spell right now. Here is what has been keeping me immersed in itself.

Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal

Lord Alfred Tennyson

Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;

Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;

Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font:

The fire-fly wakens: waken thou with me.

Now droops the milkwhite peacock like a ghost,

And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.

Now lies the Earth all Danaë to the stars,

And all thy heart lies open unto me.

Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves

A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.

Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,

And slips into the bosom of the lake:

So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip

Into my bosom and be lost in me.

And then there's another one by Yeats that caught my fascination in much the same manner as Cleopatra's Lament by Shakespeare.

No Second Troy

William Butler Yeats

Why should I blame her that she filled my days

With misery, or that she would of late

Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,

Or hurled the little streets upon the great.

Had they but courage equal to desire?

What could have made her peaceful with a mind

That nobleness made simple as a fire,

With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind

That is not natural in an age like this,

Being high and solitary and most stern?

Why, what could she have done, being what she is?

Was there another Troy for her to burn?

How I sometimes wish I could have someone to write such poem for me! And people, do check out the story behind the Yeats' poem.

I've been thinking...

There have been so many thoughts that have so carelessly been wandering though this so impossibly large head of mine.

• I am 23 years and two months old and no, it’s not young. Try watching something like Kung Fu Panda or Open Season with a 12 year old and you will say this to yourself no less than 10 times that you have grown up since you were 12 until the full fledged realisation hits you hard that you are in the unnerving territory of adulthood. I feel I have aged more rapidly in these 6 months than I did in the last 22 years and 8 months.
  

• Now why is it so difficult to find a good lingerie store? When I ask for size 32C, I mean I want 32C! I am tired of the salesgirls trying to hand me a 32B while glancing at my rack and telling that it should fit me. And when I insist, they tell me that the piece of clothing does not come in the particular size. Now why would I pay 600 bucks for something that I know is not my size! For God’s sake, why can’t the owners employ people who understand that what they are dealing with is an external-indispensable-complementary-enhancement organ and not a harness to support some bulk!
  

•  Why do I try to change myself in order to be like by someone else? Why this desire to please others when I know it’s only going to make me miserable? And then on the days that I realise this blatant truth, I extricate myself from the complex network of changes only to fall into trap the very next day. Hey, I think I’ve found my New Year resolution – “Be thyself!”
  

•  It has been so long since I last boozed, I feel like those old dipsomaniac days/nights were from another century - My head all clear of thoughts and unnecessary analysis, exactly the opposite of what I am doing right now, eyes trying hard to focus on a view which I felt like I was seeing while on a swing and other people around me going all weird, giggling, dancing, crying or may be stripping too! Wow, it definitely has been a looooong time now.
  

•  And last but definitely not the least and my personal favourite - My career. Yes, what about it you might ask. That’s exactly what I would too!