"God, Grant me the Serenity,
To accept the things I cannot change,
The Courage, to change the things I can,
And the Wisdom, to know the DIFFERENCE."
The Serenity prayer. The only one I believe in, completely,
unquestioningly. It's everything you need, you'll ever need. And it's
the hardest thing in the world.
I found these words somewhere long, long ago, and I have believed in
their power ever since. It has helped me hold on when everything else
was hazy, even dark. And it always comes back to me.
I've never been such a sucker for custom made prayers. I remember when
me and my bro were kids, in Calicut, it was our job to light the vellaku
(lamp or diya that you light before a deity) in the evening. I was not
allowed to handle fire so chettan (my bro) would light the vellakku, and
I would light the agarbatties from the wick in the vellakku. And then we
would recite our prayers (we had this prayer in Malayalam, which is
usually recieted by kids, "Daiyame Kaithoram,kelkkumaragannam , paavaam
aam enne nnee kathumaraganam..." I hope I got the words right, but I
have a sneaking suspicion that I didn't. Loosely translated it means
God, I'm folding my hands in front of you, please hear my prayers,
always watch over me...). Somehow this little daily ritual got lost in
the daily busy business of growing up. And then I developed a whole
different perception about praying and my relationship with God.
I have not believed in mouthing pre-ordained words to pray for a long
time now. It always seemed so distant. For me God was always a personal
friend- someone I raved and ranted to, someone I loved and fought with.
But this one little prayer stayed. And it the only one that I actually
believe in. I don't know its origin, neither have I ever made an attempt
to find out. Perhaps because I have found my meaning for these words,
and now I don't want that coloured by any history, or anyone else's opinion.
Why all this now? Well, I've been deliriously happy these days. Confused
at times, more sure of myself than ever at times. And worried and unsure
at times. The mother of a good friend of mine told me once, "Everyone
has an allocated quota of everything in life-of falling down, of
learning to walk, of happiness, tears, joy, stupidity, everything. If
you don't finish your quota when you are supposed to, then you'll have
to make up for it sometime later." I kinda believed in that. And then
someone I have come to love and trust so much insisted recently, that
there really is no need for sorrow in life. You can find happiness in
everything, everywhere, all the time. Honestly, I'm torn between the two
beliefs. But are the two really different? Aren't both just really ways
of acceptance? For me, it is just saying that life comes in many
flavours. Yeah sometimes you end up with a crappy taste in your mouth,
but even that can mean that you have taste (notice the pun??). Life does
not have to be perfect to be wonderful.
It is perfect because it is wonderful.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
I Me and My DNA
Why? Coz everyone seems to be getting one. And "go with the flow" is my flavour of the month.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Rang Kitne Rang ke Hote Hain?
Celebrating Colors in a Black World...
a trifle belated, but Happy Holi everyone!
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Glass is Half Full. So Who Drank the Other Half??
Today I read a comment on a friend's blog that honestly baffled me. "It is just sad.that in this 21st century stuff like this is still happening. people are suffering and willing to give their lives for others."
HUH???
again, HUH????
I really couldn't understand what this person was trying to say really. As far as I know noone had ever predicted that in 21st century all things nasty will miraculously evaporate, to be replaced by all things sweetness and light. Or did she mean that it's surprising that even in this mean 21st century, people still suffer and give their lives for others? What, has the world become such a depressingly apathetic place, that you can't care, you are just supposed to be bothered with only yourself and your immediate world?
Perhaps I am over reacting to what might have just a carelessly nonchalant statement. Maybe she just said something for the heck of putting up a comment, but such attitude somehow irks me. I fan never been such a big fan of doomsday theories, and the life-is-so-futile-world-is-so-bad philosophies. I mean yeah okay, I ponder over the greater meaning of life, the purpose of existence, the certainity of death and all that- when I'm depressed and extremely jobless(or is it that I get extremely depressed because I think about all this??Man!!This could be the next big thing after the hen-or-chicken story).
Somehow the thing is, for all the mood swings I have and all the tantrums I throw, I reckon, I intrinsically am a die hard optimist. Deep down, that is. I like to dream. Even if the dreams are impossible ones. I think even that has a high- thinking impossible thoughts.
And resultantly(gosh, now I feel like a Economics text book), I feel there is always hope for this world. I mean, bad and all that is fine, but I still think that human beings, as a race, still stand a chance. Maybe its a very naive take to be taking (is that right language?can u take a take??). But it keeps me sane.
Denial. It was created for a reason. Might as well accept that.
Crap. I began with something and ended with something. In Tsu's famous words, (I'm quoting you a bit too much don't you think??) "I lost my thought"
Cheers!
*hic*
HUH???
again, HUH????
I really couldn't understand what this person was trying to say really. As far as I know noone had ever predicted that in 21st century all things nasty will miraculously evaporate, to be replaced by all things sweetness and light. Or did she mean that it's surprising that even in this mean 21st century, people still suffer and give their lives for others? What, has the world become such a depressingly apathetic place, that you can't care, you are just supposed to be bothered with only yourself and your immediate world?
Perhaps I am over reacting to what might have just a carelessly nonchalant statement. Maybe she just said something for the heck of putting up a comment, but such attitude somehow irks me. I fan never been such a big fan of doomsday theories, and the life-is-so-futile-world-is-so-bad philosophies. I mean yeah okay, I ponder over the greater meaning of life, the purpose of existence, the certainity of death and all that- when I'm depressed and extremely jobless(or is it that I get extremely depressed because I think about all this??Man!!This could be the next big thing after the hen-or-chicken story).
Somehow the thing is, for all the mood swings I have and all the tantrums I throw, I reckon, I intrinsically am a die hard optimist. Deep down, that is. I like to dream. Even if the dreams are impossible ones. I think even that has a high- thinking impossible thoughts.
And resultantly(gosh, now I feel like a Economics text book), I feel there is always hope for this world. I mean, bad and all that is fine, but I still think that human beings, as a race, still stand a chance. Maybe its a very naive take to be taking (is that right language?can u take a take??). But it keeps me sane.
Denial. It was created for a reason. Might as well accept that.
Crap. I began with something and ended with something. In Tsu's famous words, (I'm quoting you a bit too much don't you think??) "I lost my thought"
Cheers!
*hic*
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
One Thing...Just For ONE THING
Restless tonight
Cause I wasted the light
Between both these times
I drew a really thin line
It’s nothing I planned
And not that I can
But you should be mine
Across that line
If I traded it all
If I gave it all away for one thing
Just for one thing
If I sorted it out
If I knew all about this one thing
Wouldn’t that be something
I promise I might
Not walk on by
Maybe next time
But not this time
Even though I know
I don’t want to know
Yeah I guess I know
I just hate how it sounds
This song has obsessively stayed in my head ever since I heard it the first time, which was i think just a few months ago in bus
Sometimes someone else's words can so completely express just what you are feeling.
So...If I gave it all....?
But the question is, what would be that one thing? The problem is, I know!
Monday, February 19, 2007
"Some people are so full of themselves that there is no place for anyone else in their hearts"
No great woman said this. I did. Something that occurred to me when I read a comment that a fellow kid put up on a friend's blog. Stuff such people man, they make me feel suffocated when I'm around them. What a way to begin your week!
No great woman said this. I did. Something that occurred to me when I read a comment that a fellow kid put up on a friend's blog. Stuff such people man, they make me feel suffocated when I'm around them. What a way to begin your week!
Monday, February 12, 2007
I'm Done With the Sidewalk
"Hi there. Are you fully awake yet? I'm just opening my eyes, and my head is still slightly hazy. Ah well. Utterly confused would be more correct I suppose. I'm surprised that I'm not too sure where I am, or who this girl sleeping next to me is. And now, why am I completely at ease to pull her close to me and scribble on her body "I love you"...
I'm not sure I am fully awake as I write this. Or completely sane. I saw this in my dream. Words. These words. No people. Just a voice. A guy's voice. A voice that is vaguely familiar, but irritatingly not placeable- a voice that you'd expect from some movie's invisible narrator.
No visuals in this...only a pen writing this, and a voice.
Who was that voice? And why did it (he?) want to tell me all these? Dreams. They have always disturbed me more than they really should. Not nightmares, just dreams, weird ones. It's almost like someone is trying to tell me something, that I only half want to hear. Most of the time, I still remember them...all everything as I wake up, and then as the day moves on, finer details slipping away like sand through your fingers.
I'm no story writer, but there are certain things that make me wonder if I really am living in a movie. And if that is what these dreams are trying to tell me.
Usually I move on...but this one somehow compelled me to put it down in black and white. To actually jump off the bed, even after just 3 and a half hours of broken sleep, pull out my laptop and write it all down. Even now, I feel as though, someone else, and not me is really writing. I mean, I'm...but someone else is telling me to. Some voice. Vaguely familiar, irritatingly not placeable. The kind of voice that you'd expect to hear from a movie's invisible narrator.
Maybe its lack of sleep. Or maybe its the lack of sanity. It's happening. And surprisingly, I'm not freaking out. I'm surprised, amused. Not scared. Ah well.
After 21 (nearly 22? 21 years and 6 months anyway) of lazy existence, I'm learning a few things about myself. There are times, when I see with amazing clarity. Then it goes away to be replaced by the dirty fog again. But those few moments, those few glorious moments, when I see me, like I should be, like I want to be, are exhilarating. Maybe I'll get there...yet.
I'm not sure I am fully awake as I write this. Or completely sane. I saw this in my dream. Words. These words. No people. Just a voice. A guy's voice. A voice that is vaguely familiar, but irritatingly not placeable- a voice that you'd expect from some movie's invisible narrator.
No visuals in this...only a pen writing this, and a voice.
Who was that voice? And why did it (he?) want to tell me all these? Dreams. They have always disturbed me more than they really should. Not nightmares, just dreams, weird ones. It's almost like someone is trying to tell me something, that I only half want to hear. Most of the time, I still remember them...all everything as I wake up, and then as the day moves on, finer details slipping away like sand through your fingers.
I'm no story writer, but there are certain things that make me wonder if I really am living in a movie. And if that is what these dreams are trying to tell me.
Usually I move on...but this one somehow compelled me to put it down in black and white. To actually jump off the bed, even after just 3 and a half hours of broken sleep, pull out my laptop and write it all down. Even now, I feel as though, someone else, and not me is really writing. I mean, I'm...but someone else is telling me to. Some voice. Vaguely familiar, irritatingly not placeable. The kind of voice that you'd expect to hear from a movie's invisible narrator.
Maybe its lack of sleep. Or maybe its the lack of sanity. It's happening. And surprisingly, I'm not freaking out. I'm surprised, amused. Not scared. Ah well.
After 21 (nearly 22? 21 years and 6 months anyway) of lazy existence, I'm learning a few things about myself. There are times, when I see with amazing clarity. Then it goes away to be replaced by the dirty fog again. But those few moments, those few glorious moments, when I see me, like I should be, like I want to be, are exhilarating. Maybe I'll get there...yet.
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