of december , realisations and positive resolutions...

When someone you had considered most genuine lets you down, that is when it hurts the most.
but the good thing is---along with the bitterness and regret, also comes an elimination of priorities and ironically an equal fairness in life.
Sometimes when you keep ignoring the thousand signs which come your way, life decides to impart one final hard blow which is much needed to knock you back into your senses and teach you that nobody is different...

and its only when that happens, that you realise that its YOU who needs to be indifferent!!

The rose coloured glasses are off and this time around ive crushed them for good!
and to my surprise, i think it has made me completely at peace with myself and reality!

In hindsight maybe i should have crushed them a long time back---they just blurred the whole picture...
'pink' is a pretty colour but life has a whole lot of other shades too!

so cheers to all the others

cheers to the 'new' me that december 09 has managed to bring around by putting to rest some issues in its own ironical little way.

and last but not the least, cheers to life!

Lets hope 2010 is a good year for all of us.
my wishes for the festive season and a wonderful new year ahead..


love and regards to all the genuine people in my life!!

a quick note

sorry for not being regular on here..Life has been a frenzy of events lately---some which are better off not explained.
one thing i can say is that this month has seen the heights of quirkiness in me to the extent that the only person who faced the maximum brunt of the quirkiness has declared me 'insane' and im sure im going to be stuck with that label for a long long time to come...sigh!

december has already shown me the 'trough'..
am looking forward to the 'crest' now..

keeping my fingers crossed,

cheers!!

HOPE
-------

by: Emily Brontë (1818-1848)

HOPE was but a timid friend;
She sat without the grated den,
Watching how my fate would tend,
Even as selfish-hearted men.

She was cruel in her fear;
Through the bars one dreary day,
I looked out to see her there,
And she turned her face away!

Like a false guard, false watch keeping,
Still, in strife, she whispered peace;
She would sing while I was weeping;
If I listened, she would cease.

False she was, and unrelenting;
When my last joys strewed the ground,
Even Sorrow saw, repenting,
Those sad relics scattered round;

Hope, whose whisper would have given
Balm to all my frenzied pain,
Stretched her wings, and soared to heaven,
Went, and never returned again!

the story within...

there is a story in everyone of us...

some are locked never to be opened
some are merely ignored
some are afraid of biased reactions
some shy away from the crowd
some are scared of rejection
some are happy with their clandestine existence
some revel in their privacy
some want to be forgotten
some dont dare to reveal themselves
some too painful to be remembered
some too selfish to be shared
some just prefer to play 'hide and seek'
some wait for the right person to 'tag'

and then there are those stories which are free flowing,

like the breeze which runs through your hair on a windy afternoon..
like the tears which trickle down your cheeks when you are sad...
like the chill which sends shivers down your spine on hearing something scary...
like the cheer in your voice when you are pleased with yourself...
like the rush of happiness you feel when you hug someone you love...
like the pangs of seperation you cant express when you are missing someone special...
like the familiar feeling knocking on your heart when you experience de'ja vu...
like the cherished memories which still visit you from time to time...
like the thoughts which keep you awake even at the end of a long tiring day...
like the experience which transports you back into time when it 'used to be'...
like the dreams which still flash before your eyes when your sleeping...
like the hopes which are long since gone but still not dead...

These stories run freely without any expectation of applause or accolades.
they mingle with the air leaving their beautiful scent wherever they go...
they neither want to be explained nor interpreted..
neither want to questioned nor probed...
neither want to be labelled as facts nor termed as fiction...

Sometimes they are accused of confusing the world..but they doesn't stop them!
"How can someone who is already so confused be confused any further?" is all they ask and dissapear knowing that staying there would only kill them slowly and silently..

they are sometimes labelled complicated..thats when they gracefully accept the designated status and leave with mixed feelings of hurt and regret in search of someone who would probably be simple enough only to understand them..
to understand them---as those who try to live despite the thousand odds...as those who wish to fight every demon who comes their way...as those who want to smile even when they are bruised and hurting..

and more importantly as those who are not meant to be ignored or suppressed out of fear or shame from the rest of the world but rather as those who were born to run free and wild without a single care of the rest of the world!!

its true---there is a story in everyone of us....

ignored!!

Reality came knocking on my door again,

but this time i slid beneath the bed covers, took the blanket over my head and pretended to sleep--hoping to escape...

When i eventually opened the door after being convinced that it had gone away, i could not help but smile at the irony.
There was a note lying at my doorstep.
with trembling hands, i opened the envelope and read the note aloud to myself as the deep seated void in me continued to grow with every word.
remember how you always complained that all i do is dissapoint you everytime i come to meet?
just wanted to let you know that i had come visiting again today...

but this time i had brought along with me a long lost friend..........'happiness'!

virtual khetibadi

1 pink cottage
1 grain silo
2 dairy farms
1 chicken coop
1 tool shed
1 small pond
1 mailbox
1 picnic set
1 red gazing ball
1 well
1 rest tent
1 fruitstand
1 axe and block
1 wheelbarrow
2 haystacks
1 barrel and butter churner
1 white jack-o-lantern
1 water pump
7 white sheep
8 pigs
10 rabbits
4 goats
6 horses
6 ducks (including 1 ugly duckling on whom i have high hopes)
4 cows including 1 bovine-09 cow (from outer space) i had most enthusiastically bought
3 bird baths
2 cherry trees
2 avocado trees
6 passionfruit trees
4 grapefruit trees
7 date trees
7 apricot trees
2 lime trees
4 fig trees
6 banana trees
1 red maple tree
1 apple tree
2 orange trees
1 lemon tree
1 harvest table
15 awesome neighbours to compete with

and last but not the least the enthusiasm to buy more, plough more, sow more and harvest more and more....the only reason why urs truly has not yet quit accessing facebook---"FARMVILLE"!! :D

UPDATED (15th november 09)---dont ask me what happened (take it as just another bout of un predictability).
I QUIT FACEBOOK.
guess farmville wasn't reason strong enough to stay there afterall!

the treasure called nostalgia

a treasure trunk opened with a heavy feeling...
some lovely memories neatly folded and stored...
a huge metal lock to safeguard it forever...
the key put in a sleek little casket...
the casket placed in a small wooden box...
the wooden box kept in a huge combination vault...
..
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the combination conciously forgotten...
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and yet, stolen glances at the trunk from time to time...........

LIFE!!

'Richard Cory'--by E.A. Robinson

Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean-favoured and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good Morning!" and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich, yes, richer than a king,
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine -- we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked and waited for the light,
And went without the meat and cursed the bread,
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet in his head.

---Edwin Arlington Robinson