Complexities..

He must have really loved her to hate her as much..

Shouldn't have..

I can't handle liquor at all. The other day I got drunk on a single glass of wine and made somebody read stuff that was a little too personal.

What made me regret it the next day was not getting the reaction I was probably expecting. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't exactly what I wanted to listen at that point of time and that ruined it for me.

Stupid I am..

Holding on..

I think I was in standard 1 or max 2.We didn't have a car then and our usual mode of travel was a cycle rickshaw.Dad had established a new business and that kept him away from us for days.

Like all children, I loved it when Ma came to pick me up from school and then I did not realise what an ordeal it would be for her to come all the way, just to pick me up and give me that happiness.

My school was a convent and as you entered from the front gate, there was a garden and surrounding it the driveway coming to the back gate. My happiest memories is that of seeing Ma across the garden in a pink saree. I went running to her and hugged her from the waist and she smiled and asked: "You recognised me from all that distance?" and I kissed her and replied that I would do that anywhere, with some pride in my voice.

I remember the whole scene as if it happened yesterday, even the feeling I had when I was a little girl whose greatest joy was running to her mom when she came to pick her up from school.

Somehow I never want to let this one go.

Thats it..

Getting admission in a good school.
Scoring great marks, leading in sports.
Getting admission in a brilliant college.
Landing with a well paying job.
Purchasing a beautiful house and a big car.
Buying designer wear, jewellery, watches.
Giving education to your children in the best schools.

It all amounts to nothing. Underneath it all lies the basic emotion to be loved/ appreciated/ accepted, be it though making people accept you through your etiquites or through your money and power..

And the rest, its nothing..

Gasping..

There are times I read stuff that sucks me into strange bouts of melancholy. It makes me uneasy, numb but weirdly content. I don't feel like talking, sharing and also realise that I should stop reading or at least thinking about the subject but I can't help it.. its like being under the influence of a drug which though you know is not good for you, is impossible to let go.

My only hope is that I surface up elated and maybe just a little wiser.

Thought..

It saddens me when I read something nice and do not mark/ write it somewhere out of laziness..
I also realise that writing, using pen/ paper is more fun and if I don't, I'll forget the very technique.

Design..

Currently I am into designing Dora the Explorer footwear and its more fun than I thought. Probably its all about imersing yourself completely into it than going by the preconcieved notion that you do not enjoy doing a particular thing. However, the whole thing of designing gets to me at times, deciding the colours, choosing materials and the worst of all, considering production parameters just doesn't seem to be my cup of tea. I feel restricted when I face printing limitations and when vague fantasies like adding animation to a footwear and not being able to do so occur to me.

Buying/ commercial side of things is more my thing.In my previous job, thats what I did, there was a strange adrenaline rush when every week I saw the sales figures coming in, where I'd go lengths to convince the sales people to sell the product of my category..

But then, this isn't so bad either though I hate it when I get these design blocks and I have to write unnessary posts like these to clear my head and make you read it..