So, THIS is what a "Writer's Block" feels like?!

The little clock in the corner of my screen reads 00:37. Slowly yet steadily it keeps counting down the minutes as they pass by... A subtle reminder of the amount of time by which I missed my deadline for the week’s post... 38 minutes have now passed and it is tomorrow and here I am... With no weekly post but loads of ideas are just swimming languidly in my mind, but none seem to be making their way through to the tips of my fingers where I can shake them off and make them (big) words... But I am determined... Anyway, for me tomorrow begins only after I’ve had my goodnight’s sleep, and as droopy as my eyes maybe and as sluggish as my fingers maybe, I just refuse to let tomorrow dawn until I have written my post for the week...

10 Minutes have passed and all that I have accomplished is not dozing off while watching the cursor flicker with a consistent rhythm on my screen... Somehow it seems to be in sync with the music that’s playing... It’s almost like it’s dancing one same steady step to every beat that plays on iTunes... Fascinating...! Oh! Look! There it goes again...

7 Minutes Later
Well, happy realisation to me! If I have to get this written and posted while it’s still today I really must stop imagining the cursor dance (but it was funny!)...
Question: Would it still be day dreaming if I’m doing it in the middle of the night? Oooh! Which reminds me of another doubt I had... will it be 3 in the morning or 3 in the night?? Even Wikipedia’s unsure... “Morning is the part of the day usually reckoned from either midnight or dawn to noon...” Hmpf!

Another 12 Minutes
Ok, so let me try Random Observations Have you ever noticed that infants have some sort of elaborate telepathic, coded communication system which ONLY they understand? How else do you explain why ALL kids within a given area (say a Train Compartment – that’s where I noticed this phenomenon thrice) begin crying at around the same instant...? One usually takes the initiative and the others promptly follow... Ok, I’m done with random observations...

About 7.5 Minutes Forward
Is there a career for writing “Quotes”? I mean what did Oscar Wilde do for a living? Ok, THAT was a JOKE... But, seriously, it would be so cool to invent “Quotable Quotes” and sell them to silly celebrities & politicians who suffer from “Foot in Mouth” disease... I could make a business of it... For example, “There’s SENSE even in NONSENSE”! Hmmm...

Almost Instantaneously
You know what this is? This is a classic case of Writer’s Block... Wikipedia knows the precise definition to this one: Writer's block is a phenomenon involving temporary loss of ability to begin or continue writing, usually due to lack of inspiration or creativity. Hey and look! Wiki’s very considerately provided solutions too. Ok, so lets see...

1. Scheduling time to write and work, regardless of the quality of the output.Well, Duh! THIS is exactly what I’m doing...! And I’m sure you would agree that I took the “regardless of quality” part a bit too literally...

2. Engaging in brief periods of "freewriting" or "mindwriting," in which people impulsively write whatever comes to mind.Hah! Again, I’m there, doing that (Present Tense of “Been there, Done that”! Maybe my creativity’s coming back!)

3. Taking a break, meditating, or doing relaxation exercises to relieve any pressure on oneself and on the writing.Good Idea! Maybe I should try slooooow breathe iiiiiinnnnn.... slooooow breathe oooooout... Brb!

Bees (20) Minute Baad
Ok! Random Observation 2: Slow Breathing in the middle of the night makes me sleepy, but chocolates work... So, maybe I should refer back to Wikipedia...

4. Returning to the writing after a lapse of a day or two.NO WAY! Sorry... Can’t do... a deadline is a deadline is a deadline...

5. Going out to get some fresh air.What! Do you know what time it is? My trusty clock says 1:45... Maybe I’ll just open the windows...

6. Set your writing down, go out and do something (something that will keep you busy) and then come back in a few hours with a fresh mind.I DON’T have that kind of time, you moron! What are you trying to do? Sabotage my weekly-posting spree...

7. Listen to music.ALWAYS! And now that the window is open, the wind-chimes are also happily chiming!

Wait! What’s that?! I can just feel the wheels in my head turning...
I wander around many a dreary alley,SENTENCES are beginning to come together...
But in the mournful darkness there’s nothing I can see...And what do you know! IT RHYMES! OK, I’m on a roll here...!

I wander around many a dreary alley,
But in the mournful gloom there’s nothing I can see...
Every turn I take lead me to a dead-end
Blank is my mind...
Into more darkness I descend.

I search for a way out,
But every step is shrouded in doubt.
There must be a road that cuts through this haze...
There was an idea, now it’s lost!
I’m still hopelessly stuck in this maze.

I desperately knock on every door
The unknown I’m ready to explore
They are shut tight, secure behind a resilient lock
In vain I try but no door I can breakdown
So, this is what it feels like to suffer from Writer’s Block!

OK! I wrote a poem on writer’s block! Now, THAT’s ironic...! Anyway, with my self-satisfied smirk in place, I’m off to go catch up on some sweet dreams... Until next week..!

To be a Child Again...

When I was a child, I had many ideas about the ways of life. And, I was convinced that they were all true. Until, I would inadvertently blurt it out in front of an all-knowing adult, who would invariably give me kids-are-so-dumb-but-cute smile and pat my head and dispel my illusions...

Well, what do they know? These adults! If they all still thought like innocent children, the world would be a better place to live in... Allow me to illustrate, at the risk of embarrassing myself, with the help of two illustrations...

Disclaimer: I WAS JUST ONLY A CHILD... keep that in mind.... (Almost rhymed!)

When I was a kid, I always thought that as I grew older, my parents would grow younger! And I always imagined, me crossing the road, holding my kid-sized parents’ hands... The only problem with this scenario was that 6ft-2inch-dad-with-a-beard is fine, but it was rather absurd to imagine 2ft-6inch-dad-with-a-beard. And if I remember right, what burst my little bubble was when I questioned my mother about how that was possible...

But come to think of it, isn’t that what happens in reality? People, as they grow old, really do become like children, in need of constant care and lots of love and pampering...? And, isn’t it our duty to care for our aging parents... Not totally wrong, was I? A little excessive and absurd in the imagination, but the thought was bang-on, right?!

I also believed, as a child, that everyone who spoke English, was somehow like me, from the same “group”... The concept of different religions, different castes just didn’t strike me as being noteworthy. Of course, what contributed to this idea is the fact that one half of my family was Catholic and the other half Hindu, yet they could all speak English and they were all, put together, MY FAMILY... So, I didn’t think much of the fact that some of my friends went to temples instead of Church, like me. Or, the fact that more than half of my classmates would study “Moral Science” while some of us would make our way to a different classroom to learn “Religion”. I mean, at the end of it all, we were all taught the same things...
“Thou shall not tell lies”;
“Thou shall not talk in class”
“Thou shall not get into fights”
“Thou shall finish your homework on time”
“Thou shall not ruin new clothes by playing in mud or by spilling food on it”

And, isn’t this the premise of “Religious Tolerance” - respecting diverse religious ideologies, accepting it, even overlooking it, appreciating that we are all one nationality and that there is more overpowering creed – that of Humanity.

Well, not every innocent thing I thought as a kid was necessarily smart though. Like, I very earnestly and fearfully believed that if you took Benadryll when you didn’t have a cough, you would most definitely get a cough...!

But, my only point is that a child’s mind is by far the purest and most innocent thing ever... And if we can preserve even a fraction of that despite our crazy hectic lives, the world would be a better place to live in! (World Peace! *Pause* I need to adjust my crown!)

So, what do you get when you take my recent recollections of my childish ideas and add to it the contemplative mood I’ve been in? Anyone? Anyone? A poem of, course! I know! It’s been loooooong since I posted one...

(Note: I’m tired of saying “depressed”... It connotes such a miserable state of mind. I shall now use the term contemplative denoting a quiet and reflective mood!). Ok, so enough rambling, here goes:

Where are the days
Of carefree laughter
Buried under the sands of time
Whatever happened to happily ever after?

Oh Lord, to you I pray,
Let me be a child once more
To see the beauty in each day
To discover joy in every moment

Where are the promises
Made to ever be together
Broken to pieces like shattered glass
Unable to face the stormy weather

Oh Lord, I plead to You
Let me be a kid one more time
So that sincerity reflects in all I do
So that pure-hearted in my pursuits I may be

Where are the million plans
To enjoy, have fun
Blown away by winds of change
They unravel, come undone

Oh Lord, it’s my heartfelt behest
Make me a child again
That I may set out on every quest
Fearlessly, taking life by the collar


Ok.. tata now, time for my milk and cookies!

Oooh! worm! maybe, i'll put him in a bottle and name him Pintoo!

Here's to the kid in all of us!!

Midnight Musings

31st December, 2008:
I am back home (rather early) from Church. I am still sitting in my New-Year-Mass-Church-Clothes, sipping wine, daintily nibbling on plum cake, feeling very chic and lady-like as I furiously type and re-type my thoughts... There’s a good 40 minutes to herald the new-year and I am riding the emotional roller-coaster...

I feel disappointed that I will be home alone, again, with my parents asleep & brother watching TV. I feel somewhat frustrated for not being at some party yelling over the LOUD music to talk to my friends and screaming TEN, NINE... counting down last few seconds of the old year. And, in an instant, the disappointment & frustration fades away, and I, realise, that I’m simply acting like a spoilt child who wants a new toy, not because she needs it, but because all her friends have it... Feeling mature and enlightened, I squash the irrational sadness... Good for me!

I feel defiant, as I ignore the sounds of the TV (watching TV to celebrate New Year is decidedly LAME) & strains of trance from the terrace party in the building. I feel liberated as I sit here writing this, impervious to the sights and sounds around me, still dressed in my pretty pink dress and super-high heels, silently protesting against the injustice around me - my family, already fast asleep, television’s uninspiring “New Year Specials” featuring wannabe stars and upstarts and have-beens; parties featuring drunken people and deafening music. 

I feel oddly excited at the prospect of a new beginning, and instantly I feel irritated for falling for that cliché... I mean, what’s so new about the New Year anyway?? The day will begin in exactly the same way it has this past year and the year before that and the year before that and you get the picture. People around me are not going to change overnight either (sure, some may be stupid and sick from the previous night’s drunkenness but they’ll get over that in a few hours!) The politicians will be just as corrupt, the trains will be equally crowded, and my parents fussy as always... So, basically, life as I know it will go on... What will change is the date on the calendar and even as far as the date goes, it takes me at least a good 2 weeks to get used to writing the “new year” in the date... So, where, I demand to know, is the NEWNESS to this all???

I feel terribly nostalgic... Looking back at the year gone by, I realise, with much satisfaction, that it has been a year of happy change and many firsts! Okay, flashback:Last year the newness of the new year, set in only in June, after almost half a year had past, when I went back to my old office to work on “Asia’s FIRST ever event of its kind in the world of finance!” Then, I later won my FIRST ever national award, and had my FIRST ever interview on national TV and my FIRST ever pictures in the newspapers, posing gleefully with my shiny trophy.
And, for the FIRST (and maybe the last) time ever in my life, I worked up the courage to make the “FIRST move” with a cutie-pie firang... (Unfortunately, things fizzled out after a while depriving me of my FIRST ever boy-friend story!).
I learnt to eat with chopsticks (and I would gloat about trying sushi for the FIRST time, but some may argue that since the crab meat was cooked it wasn’t authentic SUSHI...Well, whatever...)
I wore BLACK nail polish for the FIRST time ever, much to the amusement of some, shock of others and surprisingly, My MOTHER said it actually looked good! Go figure!
AND I had a whole glass of alcohol for the FIRST time ever. (Note: I have had wine before, in glasses meant for Tequila Shots, but I do NOT consider wine as “alcohol”, it’s good for the heart and all). And for those of you, who are frowning and shaking your heads with displeasure, let me explain why I felt compelled to resort to Fosters (Aus-trra-lee-yan for Beer). It was a family get-together hosted at my place and the conversation at the “party” included nagging (targeted at yours truly of course! About, well, I lost track - everything, I guess); passive aggressive remarks, lame jokes (meant mostly to hide discomfort, I suppose) and many half-hearted hmmms & hmpfs. So, with the nerve-wracking, strained atmosphere making me feel pathetic, I decided to test the sorrow-drowning-powers of alcohol and desperately poured myself my first glass of beer. My mother was shocked that I was having my first glass of BEER & my aunt was surprised that this was my FIRST glass of beer! But, it worked because after a while I was wrapped in a comfortable cloud of fuzziness that absorbed the jeers and nagging and sad humour. And, thanks to my little adventure with alcohol (one small glass of wine followed by one medium sized glass of beer) I had my FIRST ever brush with ALMOST-Drunkenness...
But the best part about last year, FRIENDS – I made some new ones, stayed in touch with ALL the old ones, got back in touch with some long lost ones, celebrated as 3 of them got married...
Okay, back to present day:
It is now almost 2 hours into the New Year... and my spirits are buoyed, partly because of the wine and partly because I spoke to many of my friends who, like me are also at home BUT unlike me are sleepy! (Hah!) I have changed out of my party clothes (gosh! Those heels were killing me!). The raucous building party seems to have ended or at least the music has stopped, and I have danced my little jig to “celebrate the new year” too. Now it’s just me, and my laptop that is softly humming some happy songs.
And, all I can think of is the profound statement muttered by one sleepy friend – “People don’t realise they can have fun without excuses”. And that is so true, I realise, contemplating my “Year of Many FIRSTS” that has just recently become a part of history... It is funny how we look for reasons to enjoy – “Let’s go for a movie coz the exams are over”, “We’ll celebrate AFTER the presentation”, “Party? Let me land a job, though!”
My year – the one of black nail polish and beer, of first moves and friends, of long conversations that run into almost the next morning and learning to eat with chopsticks – has been a series of happy memories where I enjoyed (in the company of friends and sometimes, even alone), not feeling the need to justify why I was celebrating, simply being impulsive, living in the moment. My year has been a happy one because I had “fun without making excuses”. Know what I mean??
Well, Happy New Year anyway!