The Little Things

“The little things? The little moments? They aren’t little.” – Jon Kabat-Zinn


Stolen glances that offer soundless reassurance, quick nods that convey more than words can, soft touches to let you know something's wrong, hushed sighs that imply not all is right, half smiles that imply contentment, winks to express amusement, a squeeze of the hand to comfort the restless and disgruntled mind.

They say these little silent means of communication are worth much more than any spoken/written word. They convey all the right things, and their application eliminates all need for verbal communication. “Actions speak louder than words”. And they aren’t wrong.

But sometimes, in addition to the silent gestures, one NEEDS to state in so many words what it is that they are going through, without having to be asked. One needs to share the little things that are on one’s mind. One needs to express what it is that is disgruntling them so much, what it is that is amusing them. The people who like and love us and care about us are not mind readers; nor do they have some insane sixth sense. They are, however, around to listen to all the things we have to say. And more often than not, they want to know what is on our minds.

So for god’s sake, tell them whatever it is that you are feeling. Vent at your close ones if you’re frustrated after a bad day. Feel like you’ve accomplished something at work? – celebrate it with them. Bored out of your mind? - let them know. Sad about something that happened at home? – cry on their shoulder in their arms. Got an incredulous life-altering, earth-shattering idea that'll probably never work? - let them in on the secret. Craving for a food item? - inform them, they'll be happy to accompany you in your quest for it. Happy because, well, JUST? – tell them you are.

Because that’s what they’re here for. Really. And don’t say “No, they’re here for more important things” – because while that may be true, they are also here for the little things. They are here to experience your little moments with you. Because those are what truly matter.

Remember that.

Radio Ga-ga? More like Radio Goo.

A = guy, B = ex-wife, C = some girl.

A is hurt and tormented by his divorce with B and can never fall in love again, or so he claims. C is in love with A, and B misses A and wants him back. C thinks love is all about sacrifice and stuff, so she tries getting them back together. B is aware that C is in love with A, and that A is also in love with C, only he doesn’t know it yet. And she also, to some extent, tries to pair them up. A knows C is in love with him. But because of the previously mentioned hurt and torment, he ignores it. Oh! And then in the midst of all this, C’s entire family believes A is C’s boyfriend and is arranging for them to be married soon, because of some misunderstanding that occurred a while ago and no one had the guts to rectify it.

Confused? Yeah, so were we. And we were actually watching it unfold before our eyes, without any analogy of this kind that I presented to you. THIS, ladies and gentlemen, in a nutshell is the absolutely messed up plotline of what has to be one of the most ridiculous movies I have seen EVER. There are bad movies, and then there is Himesh Reshammiya’s “Radio”. Not that I went in expecting any better, but it was so bad, it needs an entire post to trash.

Before I begin and before you guys ask me what possessed me to go for the movie in the first place, I’d like to say this – one advantage of dating a radio jockey is that almost every week we watch a movie first day-first show free of cost, so that he can review it on his show. Of course, this works as a disadvantage too, when he absolutely HAS to watch even the worst ones as part of his job. I realize that I am not obliged to go with the boy on such occasions, and that I am perfectly free to stay home. But then I’m a nice person and besides, we don’t get too much of free time to just chill and be anymore. So, I go along to spend some time with him and to give him company (misery loves that, apparently).

From the very first scene of the movie, we looked at each other with an “oh-my-god-what-IS-this?” expression. It starts with a ridiculous “it’s complicated” stamp like thing and a caption thing – “Chapter 1: Divorce aur Ganpati Bappa”. Yeah, the entire movie is told over many such chapters, with equally ridiculous names. The whole “it’s complicated” stamp made no sense to us at all, and neither did the problems faced by the characters. They weren’t real or big enough to actually be considered at all. The biggest drawback of Shanaya Dhingra (Shehnaz Treasurywala), according to the narrator (RJ Vivaan, played by Himesh Reshammiya himself) is that she’s a Facebook addict. Not her psychotic family, coupled with the fact that she has the ability to annoy you with the mere sound of her voice. Oh and the second biggest drawback? The fact that she says “bhot” instead of “bahut”.

Another thing totally pissing off about the whole thing? (Well, not so much to me since radio is not my industry. But it was still appaling to know how underhanded and cheap it was) – The fact that Ghanta Singh of Radio One was totally ripped off in Paresh Rawal’s Jhandu Lal Tyaagi. My boy was indignant - he was cursing loudly and calling everyone at work to let them know what had been done!

Acting is horrible by EVERYBODY, there is not a single saving grace. And brand placements are as forced and disconnected as they get.

RJ Shanaya (on air): ‘Love karo bhai, aur kuch nahi toh Kurkure khao’. Ex wife sitting in car listening to radio: ‘Gadi roko. Mujhe Kurkure khaana hai!’

Vivaan: ‘Yeh dish antenna badal dalo yaar! Paise main deta hoon! I’m not a dish antenna mechanic, I am a radio jockey!’


UGH.

Of strange moods and good souls who got me out of the same

So, I spent a major part of the last ten days feeling a host of emotions. Strangely, I don’t quite know why I felt half of them, but I did. There were many and none of them GOOD. They were as negative as can be and I did not feel like myself at all. I felt uninspired, bland, weak, neglected, unloved (even by me – which is saying something because no one loves me as much as I love myself), frustrated and alone.

The only ones from the above list that made any kind of sense to me are weak and frustrated. Weak – because I leave early without breakfast, get really tired by the end of the day and when I get home I’m too tired to eat. Frustrated – because really, running all around town trying to organize documents for my visa can hardly be considered fun. The lack of inspiration, blandness, neglect, unloved-ness, and loneliness were feelings that stemmed from seemingly nowhere. They were just THERE. And they refused to go away.

I wish I could say I did everything possible to make them go away, but I didn’t. Because I couldn’t – I had NO TIME. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to say that. Today, a friend asked me since when I rescheduled everything around Eid, that I was doing it this year. And she answered her own question – I JUST HAVEN’T HAD ANYTHING TO RESCHEDULE. Not since school got over at least.

Getting back to these strange emotions of mine, I did nothing to make them go away. I did not go for a bleeding long walk, I did not watch a feel-good movie, I did not reread Love Story (which, for those not in the know, is my feel-good book, even though I cry a little at the end every single time that I have read it), I did not listen to ‘Are you gonna be my girl?’ and dance around the room till I was gasping for air, I did not meet Tejas to vent my frustrations and get the hug only he can manage to give (really, that boy gives the best hugs) because the poor soul was super unwell and delirious. I did not even buy a bar of chocolate to provide myself with a pick-me-up (yes, it’s quite hard to believe, I know. I can’t believe it either!)

How did I snap out of it, then? Well, I’m still not sure I managed to completely do that. I’m still feeling traces of it. I wonder why it’s lasting so long. But today, at this moment that I write this post, I feel much better. For one, the visa papers are finally in order. Secondly, I got a tiny inkling of the aforementioned hug. Other than that, however, I have three people to thank, people who over the last few days have given me some form of inspiration and pick-me-ups in their own special ways. They are all, at some level I’m sure, already aware of what they have done.

• To Louane – For being there when I lose my mind and laugh insanely. For aching and paining after sweating it out at the gym, but always meeting me in my lunch break. For looking out for me at every step I take. For being one of the very few who manage to catch the sexual innuendos in conversations (intentional and unintentional). For knowing something’s wrong – at times before I know it myself. For very sweetly kissing my shoulder and saying “I’m so glad we’re friends again”. For being the only one, of the three people thanked, who will probably never read this post.


• To Sonali – For being my second mother. For being the calming factor in my terribly frustrating day. For being there always, even last year, when she was in far away London. For having amazingly long, intellectually stimulating conversations with me, ones that always leave me with a burning desire to DO SOMETHING. For being the person I can always share my food with. For stating quite plainly and simply, “I love reading what you write”. For being the one who, I know, is going to appreciate the picture accompanying this post.


• To Kyra – For Mappings. For writing the way she does. For being the kindred spirit that she is. For all the random ramblings back and forth. For being bossy, even though we’ve never met (‘this is for your own good’, she said). For forgiving my using her "you-know-who-you-are" trick. For her last post, which helped me recover from the writer’s block a little and type out a nice, long, necessary (?) mail to someone. For just being so yay.



To you-know-who-you-are: I’d like a reply or acknowledgement, please.

The Many Joys of Walking

Walking – isn’t there something in this act that gives a strange rush unlike any other? It’s not something you feel when you’re speeding on the bike or cruising in the car with the top (in my case, windows) down. Although, there is truly a fair level of rush available in both of the above. It is, after all, a personal favorite of mine to speed my beautiful Sleek Bleek when I’m angry or frustrated. Only, don’t tell my mom. Actually, you can tell her – because, really, who am I kidding? My concept of “speed” is not the same as everyone else. I’m actually mortally afraid of it. I am known to have scratched out skin from David’s sides, out of sheer fear, every time he speeds. So when I use the word, I’m talking roughly about 55-60km/hr and not more. That’s not TOO bad, I feel. But there are many of you who will laugh at me. Well, boo you. And driving has ALWAYS been my all time favorite thing to do – if not driving, at least going for a drive.

But, walking? That’s a whole different thing altogether. Plug in your earphones, put on some favorite music and WALK. To where, doesn’t matter! It could be to somewhere, it could be to absolutely nowhere. Of course, walking with a purpose always seems more worthwhile, but then again, not always. Sometimes, you just need to BE and not have a destination. Because then, when you REACH your destination, you have nowhere else to reach. But, without a destination, you have a whole world to explore. And exploring is always more fun on foot.

I must confess, I had forgotten the sheer joys of (and my own love for) walking places until very recently. I was reminded by a friend what it meant. I had forgotten that walking was my way of blowing off some steam, before I owned a vehicle. It was what I relied on to take me from one point to the next, especially on days when I did not have enough dough for a rickshaw but enough laziness to not want to take a bus. And on days when I had no one to hang with, and no book to give me company, I’d WALK. But then, distances became larger and procuring a bike was important, because there were classes in far off places to be attended, and parties and dinners at odd hours to be present at. And walking took a back seat. I mean, why use the power of foot when I have the power of fuel, right?

I was WRONG. Walking rules all. Firstly, when I walk, I manage to get so much more accomplished on the way. Things I would normally avoid doing, for fear of not finding parking. Secondly, I save A LOT of money that would normally be spent on fuel/rickshaw – because it’s free, get it? Thirdly, it gives me this sweet, throbbing muscle pain in my lower legs, typical of physical triumph and adrenalin pumping. And lastly, it gives me a sense of calm and purpose.

Kindred Spirits

As time goes by, we meet new people on an almost daily basis – through school, through college projects, through work, through friends, through every possible way. Most of them we acknowledge with a nod of the head or a simple “hello” accompanied by a smile. More often than not, we do not have much to say to them, because we all are basically private people, no matter how extroverted or gregarious we perceive ourselves to be. Eventually yes, some of them end up becoming your bestest friends in the whole wide world, but until that occurs, we don’t have much to say to them.

Of course, there are times (albeit very rare) when we find some people that we just click with instantly. It’s an unexplainable, indescribable feeling when that happens. When you meet someone for the first time and while conversing, you find they like the same things you do – things that most people find you weird for even considering liking; you’re able to completely ‘GET’ their humor; you’re able to share your point of view without hesitating; you’re able to understand their position when they’re explaining it to the project team head; you’re able to look at them while speaking and think to yourself “Wait a minute! That’s MY opinion from someone else’s mouth! No way!”, and then end up completing their statement for them! How does such a phenomenon occur? You haven’t spent enough time to develop the sort of compatibility required for such a thing! In fact, you haven't spent any time AT ALL! And yet it has happened. It is simultaneously the most wonderful and questionable feeling ever. And I am lucky that this has happened to me twice in the recent years!

Sometimes, this aforementioned experience occurs in such a way, that it leaves you wondering and questioning and, more than anything else, marveling at the fact that it can occur in such a strange twisted way. Like the true story of the two women from two separate continents who wrote to each other regarding the deaths of their husbands and formed a kind of kindred bond. They ended up meeting after months of exchanging letters, on Oprah’s show and it was a wonderful end to the long period of wait. They hugged and cried and laughed and had everything yet nothing to say!

But as far as life is concerned, it doesn’t always have to be a big special on Oprah. This sort of thing occurs normally too. There are times when you relate to a person through nothing but their style of writing, such as this or any other blog. And there are times when you feel like you know a person you have never met merely by how someone else close to him/her describes him/her. And that’s when you find what you call a “kindred spirit” – a term that was coined a while ago but I only heard being used recently.

And you’ll know when you find yourself a kindred spirit. I don’t know how you’ll know – it varies with different people. I knew because she's the first person in a really, really long time who used the very term “kindred spirit”; she's the only person who could tell where the term originally came from; the only person I know (well, to be fair, I still don’t KNOW her) who knows Anne-with-an-e Shirley the way I do; I knew because she writes about relationships and experiences that are mine, only they're not; she rambles off onto other tangents just like I do; but most importantly, I knew because she allegedly speaks the way she does because of Gilmore Girls which makes her the coolest person! :D

Happiness

It’s in listening to your favorite song; it’s in tiny drops of rain,
Sometimes it’s even present in the right amounts of pain.
It’s reading and rereading your favorite book,
It’s the thing that you feel when the one person you care about gives you the look.
The look that you love and adore,
And the one that you yearn to see a lot more.

It’s in meeting your friends and knowing that someone cares for you,
That someone knows something’s wrong without you having to give them a clue.
It’s in finding money in your pockets when you’re broke beyond belief,
It’s in letting go of rationality and giving your heart a chance to speak.
A chance to say what you truly feel,
A chance for the broken part of you to heal.

It’s in looking out the window and seeing the big round moon,
It’s in babies, rainbows, butterflies and the pleasant weather of June.
It’s in receiving that thing that you really, really wanted,
It’s in finally completing that seemingly impossible task, undaunted.
It’s everything you choose to be,
It’s everywhere you choose to see.

Lonely in a Crowd

She walks ahead with her head down, not knowing what to think. She’s had a long day so far, but the day has not been fruitful or productive. She’s tired – not of working but the lack of. Today was no different from the others, she knows tomorrow isn’t going to be either. And really, the time has come for things to be different. It has come for quite some time now, but it has started getting to her and she only decided this morning to actually do something about it.

There are people around her and the street is crowded (it is, after all, the middle of the afternoon), but she can barely hear them. Being alone in a crowd is not a new concept for her. People have stopped making any kind of sense to her for a while now – she doesn’t understand where half of them come from and she doesn’t want to either. She likes the solitude, and is many a time thankful to it. She prefers being this way, and can be quite emotionally detached from people and situations, even the ones that matter. This last point is the thing that worries her most out of the others that are mentioned. She ponders over it, not for the first time, and as usual comes up with no concrete explanation or solution. She shrugs to herself (another sign of detachment to a matter of concern) because all she can do is hope that this time is different from the others. It has been so far, but she hopes with every fiber of her being anyway.