Passion? Maybe..

Passion is sometimes the most overrated, and yet underrated, emotion that exists. The word just rolls off people’s tongues so easily, without them being aware of the true meaning behind the sentiment. I remember all the slam books we filled out as children had a question – “My passions are …” and we all blindly filled it in with music, movies, books, sports, and the likes. Because, well everyone thinks they’re passionate about those aren’t they?

But really speaking, how many of us are actually very passionate about the things we do? How many of us truly believe in it? Like, the stuff we do as hobbies or even the course we opt for in college and university. Very few, and that includes me. I say this with confidence because I was recently brought about to reevaluate myself. Meeting Tejas and Harry (and then reading some of Kyra’s work), has made me think again about what I am passionate about. I’m still on a sort of journey of self realization since then, because I draw a blank every time I start thinking about it. I used to think I was oh-so-passionate about a whole list of things, and I swear, I cannot say that anymore.

And that’s alright, I guess. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying you people reading this post aren’t passionate. All I’m trying to say is that, never before have I met people this passionate about certain things. I have never heard ANYONE talk about his/her field (except I guess Sonali), the way I have heard Tejas talk about music. His eyes kinda shine, and the fervor and enthusiasm with which he talks, is unlike any other I have heard/seen. Same goes for Harry, although I’ve not had too many conversations with him. But again, you can see it in the way he talks about certain movies. And because of this, I think they are two of the coolest people I have met, because it adds dimensions to their personalities.

Yes, granted a lot of people are enthusiastic about movies and music. But how many of them would actually go into the details of how the score of a particular movie is made, or how the animation in a certain scene is accomplished? These two boys would. And that, I think, is awesome. I am one of those people who walk out of a movie saying “That was a fabulous movie, but I’m hungry now. Let’s grab lunch.” I wouldn’t wait to see the name of the animator, or the composer. Or one of those who finish watching a DVD at home and don't watch the special behind-the-scenes features. But lately, I have been doing that because almost all of the movies that I’ve been watching are with Tejas and he’s wanted to wait and see.

And you know what? It’s brilliant to watch the makings of all these magnificent movies because the sheer thought process behind them is incredible! Really. For example, the sound effects in Wall-E. Watching how the sound engineers work, was simply awing (is that even a word? Well, if it isn’t already, now it is). Any one who has the DVD at home and has not bothered looking at the special features; please do yourself a favor and WATCH IT. It’ll change your perspective on a whole lot of things (including your own interests whether or not they are sound related), not to mention also give you general information on the makings of these masterpieces.


PS. i realise Tejas' name has been an overkill in this post, but then again, it WAS inspired by our conversation on Sunday afternoon. so yeah. that's it.

At The End of The Day

It’s been a long day. It’s gone by mostly at work/college; some of it spent cribbing about being broke and some of it spent bickering with a close one. You get home tired, cranky and grouchy. Nobody’s home, and that means you need to prepare a decent meal for yourself, which leads to some more irritation on your part. It’s not directed towards anybody or thing in particular, but it exists.

You take your shoes off in a huff, wash your hands and face and enter the kitchen. You rustle up something for dinner, but because you’re in a foul mood, the food is only mediocre, if not really bad. They say that matters, at least that’s what your mother says. “Smile and cook,” she says. “It brings in a special flavor.” You figure it’s true, because your meal really does taste as foul as your temperament. Ugh. You can’t seem to do anything right.

You head in for a shower, maybe that’ll give you a fresher outlook. Once you’re out, you’re still in the same mood, only feeling much cleaner. You must put your towel out to dry immediately, because firstly, it’s just good sense and secondly, your parents will be home soon. If they see a damp towel lying around, it’ll give them something to talk about. And you’d rather they not ruin your already messed up mood.

Deciding to put the towel out to dry is one of the best things you could’ve chosen to do. You step out onto the terrace and are hit in the face by the coolest breeze that is possible for the current weather. The shock and unexpectedness of it, makes you stop and stare outside in amazement. And that is when you begin to take in the sound of silence the night presents, the black velvet of the sky, the big balls of gas stuck so strategically in place they appear to form shapes, and that big sometimes-round thing that, when looked at, seems to make all bad things disappear.

You sit out there for a while, absorbing the sights and sounds of Nature. They make you forget about mundane things, and just let you be whoever and whatever you want to be at that particular time. It brings about a strange calm within you, yet charges you up somehow. You return into your room, ready to go to bed and face the challenges of the next day. Work, broke-ness, and petty squabbles can come as much as they want – you know you can face them, as long as there’s a moon and some stars in the sky and a terrace from which you can view them clearly.

A Social Experiment to Test Resilience

I was the subject of a “social experiment” the whole of yesterday afternoon. Tejas was off on a total “I have this huge reserve of energy that’s just going to waste, so I’m going to take everything that Mehvash owns and not give it back” tangent. The aim of the so-called experiment was to test my “resilience”, he said. To be honest, I wasn’t even sure of the exact meaning of the word. I’ve used it many times, to do with plants and the whole vegetarian argument, but I honestly didn’t know the exact meaning. Once home, I referred to the dictionary. This holds true for a lot of English words. Some of you might say I should be ashamed of myself, English major and all that. But I say boo you. When you’re proficient in a language, ANY language, you tend to not know the literal meaning of more than just a few. That is not the point, however, of this post.

I’m not blaming the boy. I’ve been in this mood a couple of times myself. Nikita could testify for that. I know where he was coming from. I also know a whole lot of people who go through it on a regular basis, Michelle being one of them. My point is – what makes a person get purely sadistic pleasure out of this mood? Why must one ruin another’s frame of mind out of one’s own boredom? And where do the victims of this come from? They seem to be bored themselves, annoyed out of their minds, waiting to get out of the situation and go somewhere they can have peace of mind. But they don’t take off. They’re always willing to give the annoyer a chance, saying “Let’s just stick around, it’ll wear off” Hell, I stayed the entire afternoon, when I could easily have left, thinking the mood would wear off soon enough. Well, guess what? It lasted three goddamned hours! And I, like a fool, was there throughout. In my defense, I did almost leave but then my keys were taken away, and hung on a tree. Don't ask.

I have a high tolerance level, it has been tested over and over again – not in an actual proclaimed experiment, but by many people over the years. I am aware of the level of my “resilience”*, I could tell Tejas that without being treated as a lab rat. But if he still wanted to conduct an experiment, maybe he should have tried to answer the questions I raise in this post, rather than test something that’s already been tested – that would have been an experiment worth conducting.

[*according to the Oxford Advanced Learner’s Dictionary “resilience” is defined as ‘the ability of people to recover quickly from shock, injury, etc’, in case you were wondering]

Bye Bye Birdie

“Birdie, birdie in the sky
Dropped some white stuff in my eye,
I’m a big girl I won’t cry,
I’m just glad that cows don’t fly.”


A dear, old friend of mine left for Toronto today and I am deeply saddened by that. Yannick and I aren’t the best at keeping in touch. In fact, before his big accident six months ago, we had pretty much disappeared from each others’ lives. We’d just randomly run into each other at a party or a match or something, exchange pleasantries and then catch up on the previous months that we missed out.

His accident, put things in perspective, at least for me. When I heard from Louane that Yannick had fallen three floors and was in the ICU, my first reaction was, “HUH?” For a very long time, it didn’t sink in. I refused to believe it, because really, when you hear something like that it just sounds surreal (and not like the song.) The next thing I remember was meeting Rohit somewhere on the road and him confirming it. We went to the hospital not long after that. He was in pain, however much he wanted to be a cool, “nothing hurts me”, martial arts doing person. He also had A LOT of painkillers in his system and did not remember us weeks later.

The minute I realized that Yannick actually was in hospital, and that he really had had a near-death experience, I began to miss him and began to reminisce about our friendship. Beginning from the time I came into the SSU and met him, to where we began to talk EVERYDAY. I remembered that day at Adlabs after which he gave me LOTR, in the hope that he could get me to read it and become a follower, all the basketball matches that I watched just to show my support for a friend, dancing on his feet during Boy and Girl Forever and him saying “Hear, Hear” at the end of the scene. I remembered being named Daffy and him being Birdie. I thought about Irish Cream.

After the boy got out of the hospital, I decided I’m not gonna let that happen again. I’m gonna totally be aware of what’s happening in his life, and I’m gonna make sure he’s aware of what’s happening in mine. This friendship at social gatherings was definitely not my cup of tea. And I must say, we were pretty good at it, right up until the day I had to find out from a third person that his papers have come through and he leaves for Canada within the month. I was PISSED OFF. Not because he was going, but because I had to find out from an outside source.

But putting that behind us, I just have to say I’m going to miss the boy. It’s so weird knowing that he’s no longer going to be in Kalyani Nagar ready to chill whenever I call, knowing that there’s going to be nowhere to go on Christmas (not THIS one, because I just found out I might be in Edinburgh, but you get my drift), knowing that every 30th of September is going to go by without my supply of Irish Cream, and knowing that whatever happens I can call Yannick for his wit and charm, always guaranteed to make me laugh or at least groan in annoyance which will then lead to laughter!

All the best for your future, my friend. Do that stupid aeronautical engineering, get your bleeding degree and come back for a visit after five years. Till then, Bye Bye Birdie.

The Future

Last evening, it struck me I don’t have time. Last evening, I realized that I graduate within the next one year. Last evening, I realized I need to know what my next step is, by then. And that thought just completely threw me off balance!

I don’t know why the realization left me staggering. I always knew I’d be out of college soon, and that I should know well before that happens, what I want to be doing. Someone asked me a few weeks ago – “It is ten years from now. People are yelling your name in appreciation. What is it that you have just done?” I had no answer to give them. I could see the people, I could hear them screaming my name, and I could even picture a press conference of some kind. But what it was FOR, I couldn’t visualize for the life of me!

And just when I couldn’t feel worse about not knowing about my own future, I started thinking about all my friends and THEIR futures. Most of them already know what they want and are working towards it. Michelle has her Japanese, Lara has her Architecture, Nikita has Dance, Tejas has Music, David has Events, and Sonali has Design. All of them, have taken something they really, really like and incorporated it into their future plans. As for me, well, I still need to figure out what it is that I like enough to revolve my career around.

Why is this so difficult? Why am I having such a hard time figuring myself out? Isn’t the person who knows you best, you? Then why am I not able to answer the one question that only I can answer? I need to get my act together, I know. I need to figure out what I want to do, and then DO it. Enough of being clueless. I have a little more than a month to get started, get some money… and then get out of here. Maybe go to Bangalore for a couple of days. Or not. That’s not the point. I just need to figure it out.

Free Spirit

A free spirit, without worries. A free spirit, with big dreams. One that yearns to live life her way, without pondering over the mundane issues life presents to her. Every experience unique, every day different. Not afraid, to put herself out there and explore each avenue. Each opportunity to be grasped, each knock on her door to be answered. Whether it be good or awful, whether it give her a high or send her down in the dumps, whether she spread her wings and fly or fall into the ravine deep below – because really, what is life if not a bit of everything? THAT is how she will grow, not by people telling her what to, or what not to, do. She is her own being, she has her own interests. The problem is, you’ve never let her find out fully what they are. She now feels smothered, suffocated. People ask her about herself, and she draws a blank. This isn’t supposed to happen to her. After all, she is a free spirit, without worries. She is a free spirit, with big dreams. One that yearns to live life her way, without pondering over the mundane issues life presents to her.

Someone asks her, “What is it that you dream about?” She has forgotten what it is like to dream. Someone asks her, “Who is it that you want to be?” She has no reply, because once upon a time, when she did know, you told her she couldn’t be. Someone asks her, “Where is it that you want to go?” Again, she has no answer. “To go?” she repeats the question thrown at her. Her dreams, her aspirations, her desires lie deep within her soul – forgotten. It’s been so long since she expressed herself, because you did not let her. It’s been so long since she sang to the heavens above, because you told her she wasn’t good enough. She lost faith, she became afraid. She hears the question being repeated, “Where is it that you want to go?” She musters up her courage and tries to answer. “To go?” she says again, trying to buy time. “America,” says she, because it seems like a safe answer to give. Everyone wants to go to America, don’t they? There’s no way this Someone would be able to probe further. She is wrong. Someone is always curious. “America? How interesting. What for?”

She wishes, not for the first time, that she knew. She forgets that she knows, that the answer is embedded deep inside her. She forgets what she used to be, before you instilled this uncertainty in her. She cannot remember what it feels like, to know her strengths and potential. She has become accustomed to underplaying her desires, for she knows what happens when she doesn’t. You tell her that she is wrong, that she ought to know better than to waste her time. She wants to tell you that you are wrong, that she knows she has what it takes. And even if she doesn’t, she’s willing to find out for herself.

But again, that fear, that wretched fear, ties her tongue. She wants your approval, but wishes you would just approve of her as she is. She longs for the day, when you will look at her with pride in your eyes. Pride – not for what you made her, but for what she made herself. All she wants to tell you is, “I am a free spirit, without worries. A free spirit, with big dreams. One that yearns to live life my way, without pondering over the mundane issues life presents to me.”

She drags her thoughts back to the present. Someone continues to look at her expectantly, waiting for an answer. Putting on the best smile she can, she says, “Medicine. It’s always been the plan, ever since I can remember”. And it’s true, because she has forgotten what life was like, before the fear of being herself was ingrained.

God

GOD – What is He? Who is He? Is He a person? Is He an animal? Is He half-man/half-animal? Is He a tree? Is He an indescribable being? Is He Rama, Krishna, Ganesha, Allah or the Father, Son and Holy Ghost? Even more, who says God, has to be a He? What if God is a She? Who’s to challenge the view and say He ISN’T a She? As far as I’ve been told, God has only been seen by the dead, and sadly the dead aren’t here for confirmation!

I’ve always liked to think of God as a divine force that has no gender, no physical form and a force that cannot be contained. God isn’t in a temple, mosque, or church, but within each individual. For the sake of convenience, however, I have always referred to Him as He. Having been brought up with the concept of God being a He, it never occurred to me until very recently the possibility of referring to Him as She. But by then I was set in my ways and continue to refer to Him as He out of habit.

Coming from a fairly conservative Muslim family, I was always told God forbade a whole lot of things including consumption of alcohol, nicotine and the meat of pig. He forbade the wearing of certain items of clothing. He forbade the ownership of dogs. And somewhere along the way I came to resent my religion, my caste, my community. I felt smothered. I, being a fairly free spirited young girl studying in a somewhat cosmopolitan environment, did not want to be told what to believe. I wanted to do things my way. I wanted to explore my avenues, I wanted to form my own views and opinions, based on what I experienced, and not something the previous generation had.

And one thing I strongly believed was that if I mess up along the way and do a few minor, forbidden things the God I believe in will forgive me. The God I believe in is fair, just and practical. I’m positive if I just stay true to myself and remain a fair, good-hearted human being, He will overlook the dressing sense, the occasional drink, and the rare puff of a cigarette. Because at the end of it all, that is what matters. Not whether I wear a mini-skirt along with a backless top to match, or whether I’m fully-clad from head to toe. Ultimately, all that matters is whether or not I’ve hurt another human being with my deeds. If I haven’t then, I’m sure my entry into Heaven is pretty much guaranteed!!

All I Ask Of You

All I ask of you, is a little patience. All I ask of you, is a little time. All I ask of you, is a little understanding. You say this is it. But what if it isn’t? There is a whole world of opportunity out there which we might miss out on, if we let ourselves succumb to the feeling now. I like you, yes. But I need to know what is out there. I like you, yes. But I need to be on my own for now, to rediscover myself, to re-determine my worth. It is something I need to establish on my own. Most of my teenage life, I spent with someone by my side. I used to think of myself as independent, but soon my thoughts automatically translated into “WE” instead of “I”

“We’ll be there at 7.” “We’ll go shopping.” “We’ll get you something nice for your birthday.” “We didn’t like the movie.” “We prefer Chinese food over Italian.” – Little things, but ones that had sharp undertones of the kind of person I was becoming. I slowly lost me. His likes became our likes, his dislikes turned into our dislikes, his interests developed into our interests. All this, involuntarily. I never planned on reorganizing my thoughts to suit his, or rearranging my likes to sit better with his. It just happened with time. And after it was over, the hardest part was losing the “WE”

There were so many things I couldn’t figure out for myself. From little inconsequential things like, favorite fruit to life altering things like, career, I found myself questioning my choices. I wasn’t used to feeling like this – incomplete and lost. However, this time round, I know I need time. Time to discover and retain my thoughts, my views; time to know what I want and how I want it; time to reevaluate and figure out if I really do like the things I insist I like. I realize now, that I need to know “I” better, in order to be a successful “WE” And I’m slowly getting there, I can tell you this much – I know now that I favor Italian food to most others, including Chinese. But in order, for me to fully accomplish my journey of self realization, I need you to understand my need for time and patience. Wait for me, that’s all I ask of you.