The hardest word

Sorry seems to be the hardest word. In most cases, but not for me today. Its been a day that's ended with a lot of fingers pointing at me, and for some, I'd shamefully say, not without good reason too.

So this post is dedicated to all those whose feelings I've carelessly trod on today or sometime in the recent past which has brought about the wrath, bitterness, sarcasm, or worse, hurt of those who mean a lot to me.

To you, loved one, I'm sorry I have snapped at you. I have not treated you as a you deserve, and I'm sorry to have used you as a punching bag in trying times. You are afterall, not a mindreader. It's just that your unwavering support has sometimes surprised, but always meant the most to me; so much that I forget you are human too.

To my best friend, I am sorry that I let you down, possibly in a small way but one that I know hurt you. You know my intent was far from it, but I know I could have averted it. Sometimes it is hardest to crystallize in words how very valueable something is, especially for one close to the heart. It is not the same for a beautiful past. I only ask you to accept when I make it up to you.

To a sweet friend, I'm sorry I took you for granted. I don't know if you ever will read this, but believe me, ironic as it may be, people only take those they are fondest of, for granted.

To you, buddy, in over half a decade of our solid friendship, I'm sorry you missed dinner with that pretty girl for me today, just to not have me there either. I promise to make it up to you.

Its good when its bad

Sometimes life simply backs you into a corner. It doesn't matter how resilient or optimistic you are, life still kicks you in the gut for a nice satisfying laugh. Now I don't know about you, but mostly, times like these just make me want to curl up and sleep and never wake up. And just sometimes, I find myself wanting to cope, and perhaps, get the better of life screaming 'Ha! You can’t get me down'.
So here's my pseudo version of the stages of grief - only they're not classified as the 5 discrete emotions; they're things that i do when in the absolute pits. Read on, maybe some of this is familiar to you.

1. Over indulge. Be it food, exercise or in my case, shopping. It's time to make the self feel better. Retail therapy rocks.
2. Talk. Ring up your best friend. It doesn't matter if they listen more than advice; scold more than pacify. It’s great when you hang up knowing someone cares enough.
3. Self pity. It’s an excellent outlet for emotions even if pretty loser-like for petty daily misfortunes; you can allow yourself this when you're at your absolute worst.
4. Go wild. Do something crazy, something new. No, I don't mean elope or hitchhike across the country or blow up a ton of money. Just do something that’s new for you, not those around you. It works.
5. Socialize. Party. Music, the anonymity that crowds provide, is sometimes wonderful. Meet up with that old school friend you haven't in a while. Ring up all those whose calls you've ignored. Catch up. It’s actually pretty nice to look beyond your own misery at someone else's life.
6. Spend time with the family. Blood really is thicker than life's troubled waters
7. Block the world out. No calls, no TV, no internet. Be by yourself, even if you're lounging around in the room. After a few hours of self pity, you'll find yourself reflecting and then slowly see a glimmer of hope.
8. Appreciate the big picture. Go to the sea side, lake side, park anything. The beauty and vastness of nature can soothe the self like no other. Notice the details. Take note of the small things people do for you - friends, office boy, rickshaw walla, the dog that jumps to lick your face. The loveliness of an act of kindness can touch the heart like none other.
9. Make someone else happy. Pay a compliment or buy the old beggar at the signal some food. Put a smile on someone else's face, and you'll automatically see one on your own.
10. Accept the situation and smile. The best part when things 'can't get worse', is that they can only get better :)

Coming Home

I'm home on a short break now. 4 precious days. 96 cherished hours.

Four years ago I remember sulking and stomping off to my room because my parents did not let me go to a disc/ on a 3 day trip/ for a late night party with my friends. 'But their parents let them go' was the constant plea to which my parents would unflinchingly (and at that time I thought, unkindly) reply 'but we're not their parents'. Those years I wondered when I'd grow up and ahem..be a woman(!) so I wouldn't have to listen to and be bound by restrictions. So why is it that now, when I have my own place in a different city, the freedom to come and go as I please, long to be told 'get back at a decent hour', 'don't drive around if your friends are drunk'?

At around the same time as the sulks, I remember having to wait to see when my mom was free to take me shopping for the 'good stuff'. Not the stuff at causeway and fashion street, but the ones that usually needed a credit card to be swiped :) Sometimes there were days when I had one of the rare latenight-ish outings planed and needed something new to wear when mum wouldn't be free to take me shopping. At that time I wondered when I'd be grow up and start earning so I wouldn't have to wait to be taken shopping to buy expensive stuff. So why is it that now, when I have my savings, and a credit card, long to be told 'I'm going to confiscate your credit card you spend too much', 'come to Bangalore and we'll go buy that suit'?

While I was busy with the sulks and the unfulfilled shopping needs, I also, many a time, fussed about having to be carted around in a car, or taking Snoopy for a walk; brooded about being told to study; insisted on dining out, and well..threw the grand tantrum (as referred to by those who remember it) while shifting to Bangalore. So why is it that now while I am a grown woman (wince!) live in Bombay, eat out as much as I want (or not), and use public transport to the max, long to receive that call which asks 'have you had something solid for dinner yet', 'don't venture too far out there might be heavy rains/ an auto strike'?

I'm wondering now about the times I painfully long to be cared for. No, this is not looking for a scientific reason for something as simple and human as missing one's family, its just a train of thought! So is that the crux of it (the sudden pangs of longing), to know that you're well cared for? Or is it the fear of finally growing up and being completely responsible for oneself? In fact I suspect the former stems from the absolute responsibility bit. And it is this which yanks us back to the womb each time. Its not about being independent or growing up, rather it is about being uncertain, wanting reassurance, being scared, needing to have someone share the blame should something go wrong :) In short, its about having someone to say I love you just the way you are, and I still will, even if you screw up. Its a human need.

Stated the obvious eh? Or am I just speaking for myself? Is it my age, the place i am in life right now? Why don't you tell me.

Another thought squeezes itself into my mind as I write this. Its an oft repeated maxim, though. Isn't it sad that we seldom appreciate the present for what its worth, pinning our hopes on the future? I want to, with desperation that scares me, rush back to my college days, and even school days, now that I know what all to appreciate. Yet as I'm typing these very words I'm smiling at myself. While I'm now learning to avoid putting undue pressure on my future, I seem to be slipping into reveries of the past and its glories, again missing the moment for what it is.

Its all idealistic to 'live for the present', but I'm not sure I fully can. Can you? Its the past that strengthens the present for me. Like the times that you and I spent remind me of how much I enjoy being with you. And its the promise of the future which gives me hope to smile through the present. Like knowing that its mine to mould as I please, and that future remains the future - its never too late...

Ah well, look where we've come! To think I wanted to write about my chill-time at home. Nevertheless, this has been fun, albeit long. I'm off now to make most of being a child once again - waking up late, drinking bournvita, getting yelled at for using the computer this late at night :) So GNSD, as we say at home!

Welcome, me!

A blogger at last! After years of procrastination I, the great Soundini, have finally decided to make an appearance and join the esteemed ranks of the veteran bloggers to spill my guts out to the world. Er... maybe not. To be honest, it is this which kept me from blogging all this while - an inability to shut up at the right time:) I always thought it was okay to pour my heart out to a journal. Or maybe friends & family. Soon grew to include neighbours. And then some colleagues. But documented proof of how mental I am for the world to read? Nah-ah! It wasn't so much the fear of how many people would read it as it was not knowing how much to reveal, not knowing the right thing to say and not knowing when to stop. Discourses in large groups used to leave me feeling exposed, vulnerable, always wondering if i said too much, didn't toe the line, looked stupid. And then these uncomfortable thoughts would fester and turn me into a withdrawn, cautious girl. One who slowly slipped into the role of passive listener from an active communicator.

So what's changed now? Well, I'm not sure I care too much about what's the right thing to say or the right time to stop anymore. Its part of my neo-nisha plan, you see - I've decided to banish the grey colour that my personality has begun to take. I've realized that I actually like who I am. And if I don't take the time out now to say what I feel and do what I want for myself, I never will. And then I'll just turn into the sullen-grey-girl. Erm..where does blogging fit in this you ask? See thats the thing. Ever done/ seen/ felt something profound/ stupid/ mundane that's fascinated/ awed/ bored you and you just want to talk/ laugh/ whine about it with someone? (phew!) Well I do. I have enough and more of those thoughts, dreams, ideas, opinions. And I want to share it with not just the friends, journals, colleagues et al. I want to share it with you. You, who have cared to read.

Anyway, enough said there. I'm hoping the brickbats (and maybe bouquets :)) will flow in with time.

And on that note, lets turn this page now, shall we?