Ceremony of love

More of the same. For some reason that’s the first thing that comes to my mind when I look back at the wedding I attended. It was ornate, beautifully presented. There were a few moments which did tug your heart strings, but the rest seemed like a merger of two companies. The balance sheets were matched, the sectors were matched, and the brands were match. They just forgot to match the heart.

Even in the case of a love marriage, all the above is done subconsciously, in a way it’s swept under the carpet. Love is not that simple, most of the time its two people with similar aspirations coming together. They just happen to want to spend the rest of their lives with each other too.

It’s not right for me to judge, as I could not feel the emotions, as it was not my sister who got married. I saw the painting but never saw it getting created. All the details were lost to me.

It felt as if I was seeing something I knew was beautiful, everyone around me said it was, but it somehow was lost on me. I could see the sea but couldn’t feel the cool breeze, neither could I smell nor hear it.

Growing up feels like being thirsty all the time, doesn’t matter what setting you are in, you always feel like you need something constantly. Your skin is always dry, rough. Even the air you breathe seems harsh. The stories are never complete and always left to further interpretation.

Getting back

Something to help me cope

Shades of grey

He entered the house looking a little fatter and a little different so much so I couldn’t recognize him. His eyes looked tired and sad I thought that maybe marriage does take a toll. That youthful look, a particular shine was missing. It made sense he was 40 years old, about time. Nobody in life is a victim and no one’s a sinner. They say even a murderer’s act can be justified by his past. Monsters are made, not born. Not all marriages end in old age, some end in empty houses with everything missing. Only the dust on the floor telling what was there earlier. A goose chaise of finding your wife and running into her ex husband who is looking for his child. But how did this story begin, how did she come in, how did he let her in. Some would say let him be, it’s all in the past now, no use of getting the story straight now. Let him be.

One day

One day I will wake up and realize the folds on my skin.
A body unwilling to move on, a soul unwilling to give up.
Black pride turning white.
White pride falling off.
A time when my age will define who I am.
Plenty of dreams left but no desires.
A quite contentment with the way life was and the way life is.
Constant pain but no agony of youth.
A silent pact with god and a valiant fight with time.

The human condition

I don’t remember a single time in my life when I was satisfied. When I was a kid I wanted to be intelligent like some of the kids I admired. Then came the boy phase which never seems to leave, where I keep wanting someone to love me back.

There was never a time when I wanted to be still and be happy with what I had. I am not the most intelligent person but I am dependable. Nobody ever seems to love me back but I always had good friends. I am not beautiful but neither am I ugly.

It’s tough to be ordinary. To be ok at everything and good in nothing. It’s like navigating through life without a compass. On one hand you are always lost with grave danger of sinking but on the other hand you never know your final destination. At least you hope you never know.

It’s better to be lost at sea than to be grounded ashore.

That’s the paramount of the human conditions always hoping things will get better. I wonder why we are all built to hope, to believe in limitless possibilities till the very end. To keep dreaming of driving an enfield even though all your body parts are ready to fall off.

To be at point A and think of point C.
To will fiction into reality.
To leap when there is nothing to leap to
To dream in broad daylight
To build castles in cracks
To restart with daybreak
Honestly I am glad I hope otherwise it will be like swimming in sand- rough

Car trouble

There is this car that is going down hill, it knows that there is a huge gap up ahead. The car can feel the road caving into it. The car tries to slow down, it hits the hand breaks but no use the hill is covered with ice so it’s too slippery. The road is thin with no sidebars, so the car has to be careful when it breaks or it will fall off the hill just to avoid the gap. What does the car do. Jump the gap on prayer and a revved up engine.
So what does it take to jump the gap –
Special fuel aka a miracle > well there is no gas station nearby and the breaks don’t work.
Incredible driving skills aka good judgment > this seems to be the only option.
Jumping the gap would mean that speed needs to be increased which in turn would imply that the car would approach the gap faster. The faster the car goes, lesser is the margin of error. The car needs some kind of ramp so it jumps up. A slight elevation, medium elevation or just plain huge. So the following are the options:
Slight elevation aka driving into another similar job.
Medium elevation aka an MBA and drive into another similar job but big brand name and bigger salary.
Simply huge aka drive into a very different job, pay might be half and lets not talk about the brand name.
On the other hand if the car does nothing it will fall in the gap anyhow.

Timing

How is it when I am at my lowest that someone always calls. Random pieces of conversations like a famous line from a movie – “don’t think it’s a spoon but instead realize there is no spoon” seem to make sense. I remember in school after my stage debacle my chemistry teacher gave the whole class a lecture on not to care about what others think, I remember feeling she did that just to console me. Now after fighting and hurting my father and deciding to give-up a friend calls at 11 o’ clock at night and talks to me for one hour. I never could relate to him but he picks the right topics. I think all I need in this life is balance, some company but not too much, some work but not too little, and lots of love. There are no limits to the last one. I know it is not the solution to any of my problems, but I still crave for something I have barely felt and have no idea how to handle. I guess love or even it’s watered down versions fill up the gaps of time between incidents in our lives when we have no one but ourselves. Time passes with ease as your mind is full of thoughts of either fluffy stuff or absolute anger or is on a hunt to solve a mystery but trying tirelessly to draw out the conclusion we desire. What we see with our eyes is not longer simple, we might be reading it all wrong, all the time, but it’s now interesting, even if it’s incorrect.
I think the reason why I love the infatuated stage so much is because I am at my shallowest best. As one smile, one look seems more important than an entire conversation. It gave me something to do with my time, as days never seemed long enough to analyze every moment of that five seconds, which meant nothing to that other person.
Love is the greatest filler of life, even it’s watered down version succeed in absorbing all the time in between. It’s when you are not in the midst of it that you don’t know what to do with yourself, when everything is clear and simple but still not enough.

mangalore plane crash....

Perfect weather ... experienced pilots ... hopeful people... all disrupted in one go. The way this world was made it makes no sense ... there is so much space ... millions of miles between galaxies ... so much time to waste for some ... so little for others. Everything seems random .... why give someone life, just to take their whole family away. What’s the use of a wedding if families are wiped-out. What’s the use of funeral ceremonies if more is on the way.
But then who am I to judge- what is too much space, too much time , what is random.