Wednesday, February 26, 2014

About sisters..

I sometimes wonder how she knows me so well, its T I am talking about. Whenever we have our conversations about “life”, she says such things that stick to me, and no matter how I disagree with them at that point in time, eventually I realize how right she was.

Before I got married, she kept telling me how wonderful a life I was living- a place to myself, all the freedom, work that I loved and enough money, what more could I ask for. I kept telling her that she didn’t realize that how it was a struggle sometimes to live alone, how at times I wouldn’t speak for hours, and all the stupid stuff I could think of. And though I hate to admit it, she was right about the life I was living was that people only dreamt of.

Another conversation of ours was regarding a friend who lived out of a suitcase. She lived a nomadic life and to buy something new, she had to throw something old out of her case. I was completely fascinated by it and wanted to live a similar life, travel, have no roots, just like the movies. When we were discussing it, she said that “we-her and I”, weren’t capable of such lives. We were people with roots, we liked familiarity was too much- coming back to a home and not a hotel room, being around familiar faces and not trying to make new friends all the time, talking and meeting our parents and sibling very often, that’s what made us. Again, stupid of me to disagree but one move to another city and a month in the hotel room made me change my mind.

To say that she’s my alter ego wouldn’t be an overstatement. I’ve come to realize how important “validation” for us in anything we do, thanks to her. When I decided to get married to S, I was super scared. Although we were friends but he was not the kind of man I’d sought for myself, rather opposite. Destiny intervened and things happened. As usual, I went to her with my woes and this is what she said (she’d of course met him by then)- “Sam, some things are decided by God himself, what happened to you was just that. Since you didn’t know what’s good for you, he intervened and took the call for you and that’s the best way it should be done. Knowing you and how you’ve lived your life, how you don’t like answering people and that freedom you need, you couldn’t have settled for a typical family like we have.” This not only gave me the much needed confidence at the point of time, but now I realize how she knows me better than myself.

I can go on about this sister of mine, how some of the best advices have come from her, how she puts into words exactly what I am thinking, but let’s just end it like that- she knows me better than I know myself..

Friday, February 21, 2014

And nostalgia hits like never before..

At times when I read my earlier posts, I feel strangely detached. As if the current strange me is looking at the real me that earlier was. I know it makes no sense at all, so let me explain (or try to).

For a millionth time- I lived alone for 6 years, in total solitude. There was just no one I came back home to, or who heard me out. Though it may sound depressing and I constantly cribbed about it, somewhere I’d gotten used to it too. I had a way of living, behaving, doing things and coping with situations. When I think about those days, I feel as if the person I am right now is somebody I don’t connect to and I keep looking for those glimpses of my past life. It is nowhere to say that I am not happy right now, just that I reminisce about those days through rosy glasses. I seem to have forgotten the pain and hurt of living alone, not talking for hours at times, crying myself to sleep even. All I think of now is how I could not talk when I didn’t feel like, taking power naps coming back home before going out with friends for dinner, those late night conversations of love, life and miseries with best friends.  I miss dragging my bean bag in the balcony with a nice cup of tea and a book and going off to sleep on it till the evening chill woke me up. I miss S picking me up and giving me that appreciative glance that embarrassed me and inflated my ego at the same time. I miss my little secret life..

It’s like sitting on a tree and looking at my current life as if it is all happening to someone else.. And then I meet S in the evening and couldn’t care less..

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

A prayer and then some more..

Can I now have my hair back please!!
And I pray with all my heart..

Monday, February 17, 2014

Arbit thoughts and more..

It has become increasingly difficult to read or even write these days. I start something and don’t to how to continue with it and no matter how much I crave for the earlier enthusiasm to do either, I just can’t. I feel guilty about all the unread books I have with me, or the books I want to read, but it just doesn’t happen.

Once, books and writing were my solace, my escape from the hard realities of this world. I could lose myself in them, they made me feel smarter, they made me feel strangely me, but mostly through them I connected to the eccentric side of me. These activities, no matter how regular, made me feel unique, as if I was just slightly apart from the rest, or when I felt alone and scared, I connected with them like nothing else.

And now I miss it so much, I miss being so in love with a book that I never want it to finish, or relating myself to the characters or my heart pumping so fast when something exciting is going to happen in it. I miss posting regularly and knowing that someone there is reading, relating.. maybe even understanding.

I miss pouring it all out here, I miss my old self at times..