The conundrum of esoterica 

Life is a conundrum of esoterica. Cool shit eh? First I heard this nugget of  reflection of my self was while watching Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events. A conundrum three supposedly orphaned children face while a wicked uncle of theirs tries to steal all their willed fortune by crook, there ain’t no hook involved. Violet Baudelaire, eldest of the lot reflects upon “life is a conundrum of esoterica” spoken unknowingly by their  surrogate uncle (a different one, not the one trying to kill, maim or dispose of them) who planned to take them around the world, treated them well and after his death the children were left to fend for themselves with little but the conundrum of esoterica.

Let’s talk about the esoterica in our lives. The meaningless things that you and I don’t really bother about. The things we don’t understand yet we don’t try either. Esoterica is the collection of things that is understood by a select group of people. A select group of people who sit for years and years altogether to understand the things you may believe aren’t very worthy of your time or even attention. For example, astrology. I don’t get it either. But for people who study it in their wide detail may seek to gain immense knowledge out of it. Astrology is not only zodiac signs and the planets in motion. From what I found out before I got bored reading up on it, is that astrology combines your body’s signals, placement of planets, movement of planets, and it’s not just gravitational pull (however minimal it may be) that the planets and stars exert on us, there’s quite another pull or push upon us constantly. A constant state of contraction and expansion but beyond this I don’t know.

The only esoterica I know fairly well is my own self. Yes, you’re again your own esoterica. Your whole being is a universal system and so you can study it with some professional authority on the subject. The more you and I reflect on the machinery working inside, the more our Selves will seem like a beautiful and tender surrender (subtle Steve Vai reference). We go through so much bullshit everyday. The world bogs you down, people talk about you behind your back, your parents give you a hard time, your career isn’t going anywhere and blah and blah and blah! So what next? You complain. You complain to anyone even if all they said to you was a Hi. You crib about the sorry state of affairs in your life that’s implicitly going into a downward spiral. Well, the spiral is taking shape only because you provided the direction and momentum to the negativity in life to take over. We don’t ever feel invincible with what is in us. We crave more. We crave more human relationships and warmth when we don’t provide ourselves the warmth. We crave someone to understand us when we don’t bother listening to others. We want people’s attention and cannot even begin to give our 5% while just conversing with them. The sorry state of affairs is just our own doing, no one else’s. It’s your own shit so own up to it. Making a huge deal about how you are all your flaws isn’t anything to brag about. You are not your flaws but the lessons you learn in smoothing them out. I mean how many of us go through each day with a constant chant in our heads, “what the hell is even going on?” It’s all there is. The lack of consciousness is so rampant that to even believe someone might actually love you is a weird state for your being. You believe so much in your flaws that you begin to ignore the things right within. And when someone confronts you with the shit you pull off, you shrug your shoulders and go “well that’s just who I am”.  No. That’s what you’ve become because you stopped giving a shit about yourself. People pleasing, seeming cool, getting attention is what gets us going. 

Honestly speaking, (if my honesty doesn’t get you going, I’m gonna use ‘scientifically speaking’, though it’s a massive web of lies that people can build) the likes and comments we get on our posts, pictures or whatever gets us off. It basically massages our egos in the same way that hard core drugs do. So, you may not be smoking crack or shooting up heroin, all you’re doing is rampantly posting each detail about your life trying to get people’s attention. I do not condone the action of sharing your life with the world but why don’t you just share it with your immediate friends, your lover or even parents and actually not crib about how anti social you are. You cannot be anti social because you already share everything about your life! Such a dilemma to be in. 

Our lives are woven around people. It becomes such an intricate web that stepping away from our people circles’ seems like the hardest thing to do. But each and everyone of us needs a detox. A detox from bad relationships, detox from bad food and a detox from everything that doesn’t serve you well. Esoterically, you are your own saviour. No one is ever coming your way to help you out. People will be opinionated about everything in your life but that’s just it. They don’t care how you reach a goal, they only care to see you reach it. You may fuck your way through bosses or actually grind yourself in the process. No one cares about the journey. So, worry not about the people, worry not about the attention, worry only about the happiness you gain out of every action you take. 

In one of my previous posts, I mentioned about the lack of searching our own selves. It is the biggest need of the hour. All the horror you see around the world is what is really happening in your microcosm. Your being is in severe unrest, and your being is projecting the unrest into the world. We never took care of our stability and now the world we are in is disastrously unstable. The moment we start taking charge of even the littlest events in life, we create an aura of attraction. Truly, the only eternal fact is that you are your own. Lovers, friends and family is the added bonus. To have a partner with whom your world becomes a much better place to wake up too is the greatest deal ever (best deal in the history of deals). To have a partner around whom your layers of guard and inhibitions drop off like reptilian skin slowly is the greatest journey of self discovery. Ironic isn’t it? Needing another person to boost your journey inwards. Needing another person to help you look at yourself truly. 

The conundrum of life arises when we are false to our selves. We are a bunch of superficial assholes. We are on our best behaviour around strangers and at our worst around family. It’s so hard to live a life of lies. May not be massive lies but each and every day we are all pushing forward to making lies part of our inner biology. Our working, of each human being, is a completely different machinery. Each of us is so different, apart from the anatomy nothing matches. You may breathe 7 times in one minute and I may do 20, we just don’t know. But we all breathe. That’s the whole point of it. A collective consciousness to understand the individual. 

I am my own expert in the study of my esoterica. 

Mirā 

I realise it has been so long since I’ve posted anything that I’m palpitating right now thinking about what to write. Most of the time when I’ve sat down to do some writing, I’ve had a plan. A plan to write. A plan to go on about what to put in the post. A plan to execute a mean joke (that would one day make it to a dank meme page). What I’ve not planned today is how I see myself right now. I don’t mean looking at myself in the mirror wondering if I’ve put on weight, or fretting about the little spots popping up here and there on my face. These are things that always matter to a girl but needn’t be given so much importance. As fat or skinny or weird or stupid as you are, you will always find someone that likes you more than anyone has. But what does it really mean to look at yourself? To mirror your Self. You are a human being, that is very well equipped to look inside. Look inside your heart and maybe it tells you that that person you thought you have a crush is worth enough to put some effort towards. Look into your own eyes, it’ll open up a little path into your self. The one you don’t like facing. The one you run away from. We can pretend all we want, but the very thing that eats us up from inside is the acid named I. I and the ego are replaceable words that mean the whole world to a soul in regression. Let’s say you’re on your way to a party and the people who are your friends decide to hold it in a place that you don’t like so much. According to the norms in our society, it’s wrong to say no. So you go along to that party and completely screw it up for yourself because you tried conforming. It’s not something you wanted but you did it anyway otherwise “what’ll they think if I say no?” If you say no, you end up being labelled as a stuck up, obnoxious bitch (very gender neutral term so don’t go off on me, feminists). But when your gut is anyway asking you to not go ahead your mind shuts every voice in your body down because the mind is giving you a false sense of satisfaction in the acceptance of people. When you feel that you’re accepted, you automatically assume you’ve turned into a “good” person because even you won’t like people turning you down for things. This is where our problem lies, as a society. We are currently so engrossed in being liked and accepted by everyone that the moment an opposite action happens, we are left fending for our hurt ego. The ego is an element in you that can never be eliminated, it can only be used as a tool for good. If you help an elderly woman cross a road, you’re being a good person. If you help an elderly woman cross a road, then spend time thinking about how you helped the woman and feeling like YOU are a good person, it’s that moment when you’ve associated with the tiny person residing in your self, your ego. Associating with the ego will give you a false sense of good within yourself. Honestly, deep down you may not be a good person, but your attachment to ego has firmly made you believe in how amazing you are. 

Good and bad is again relative and I don’t think I can endure Carpal tunnel happening to me while explaining the relativity of good vs bad. Maybe a post for another day. Putting across a disclaimer right now that “I’m not preaching against social media.” How has the world turned out presently? You write something to amass some likes and comments, you post pictures to have your ego boosted by comment and likes again. An endless cycle of appreciation and depression associated with lack of attention is the shallow cycle we are stuck in nowadays. Having random people like your pictures on Instagram and in reality coming back to a loveless and lonely life at the end of the day is what we are trying to avoid. So after coming back home we step out again to go drinking and partying and finding all sorts of excuses to be with friends. In the process of knowing your own self, you will lose friends, you will gain life partners, you will be outcast. What people will never realise is, a person awakened to his own self is a person who has no attachment. Being attached to things and people make us sad in the lack. Your state of looking inside at yourself will open up wounds so deep within yourself, you’ll never know they existed. The turmoil you face while having your whole identity that you’ve associated with for so long, shredded away, will leave you gasping for air. But eventually, after your own purge spits out a Self that is opening up to be your real self, the gratification is so immense that no amount of materialistic joy can fulfill. Lack of dependence on anything apart from your self is refreshing. You will never need a crutch. You’ll not need to wait for anything except for the things you’d like to have for your own joy and happiness and to have your little heart fill with joy on having a new best friend in the same body, is all humans are looking for. Humanity is a good cycle, it’s about to end and all I’m asking you to do is love yourself (as a person you are and please don’t preach on social media how much you love yourself by putting down the men in your life and dressing up like a hoe. Know your differences) before it’s too late. 

Post title stands for mirror. 

Ikigai 

Sense of wonderment crept into you the moment you read my post title, didn’t it? The last line of the end of this will lead you to a meaning of what I need you to know today. The sense of life and curiosity to live it with is what I need you to realise today. And if it doesn’t suffice with one WordPress post, I’ll write more, I promise, but learn. You shall today, be getting one hell of a monologue on passion. Not the passion with which you jump your beloved everytime you see him or her, neither the kind with which you paint. We shall talk, or rather i shall write about the passion of doing the most menial things and when you look back, you will have realised what and how much it stands for. 

Have you just woken up one day and thought of how badly you want to do one thing and just leapt at it? Robbie was my thing (person). This is not a sexual innuendo okay? I’ll say it and believe me, I’ve not been a really good partner to most of my previous boyfriends. I’ve taken people for granted hinged on “feminism”, believed everyone would be nice, understanding and let me go on about my business. I’ve shown in the past what a goody two shoes I’ve been but inside I’ve had the most rotten things scheming up in me. My space and loneliness in relationships took precedence over what the other person might need from me. Everyone needs their partners to be there. However they can. But I have always been unavailable, emotionally, mentally and physically. I’ve been under the notion that people work for me and that’s been my one motto. One day I had this person hit me up over a social network wanting to talk. I did talk but because of my unavailability, and my amazing ability to string people along in the past, I kept forgetting to reply back to this one person. He would wait for me. I’d make him wait too and when I’d reply after eons he wouldn’t take offence but just take off from where I disappeared. We hit it off with our talks about spirituality and goodness within humanity and I guess I gave him a false idea about my self. This false self was what I believed in too.  While I was talking to him, I was talking to so many men you wouldn’t believe that to be humanly possible but there I was. Honestly and truly fucked up. The goodness of humanity lies in forgiveness. This person was my Robbie. And I wasn’t doing much justice to his beautiful soul. This man who was getting to know me slowly didn’t judge me when I opened about my self. I’ve loathed myself enough to fuck up at the highest levels and here he was just asking me to love myself and find my happiness. Finally, when we entered into a relationship, it was a rough start. There have been so many things about my own self I refused to change. Most of my self was an irresponsible idiot. I was irresponsible about who I shared my aura with, who I shared my drink and who I shared my number with. And with that, came the realisation that when you’re falling desperately in love with one man, the one you’ve always searched for in others and drugs and alcohol, you need to fall in a massive ditch. This was my very own falling in love. We have shared our joys and sadness and been downright ugly, but I see him. Because I see him, I crawled out of that ditch. It was a ditch that was also filling up with mud, fast. This man here is the light at the end of the tunnel that I pushed myself in. We talk like 14 yr olds and fight like WWE fighters (just not physically) but at the end of the day he’s always the one I can come home to hoping for a good cuddle and that’s all I’ve really ever needed. None of you reading this would ever know who he is but he is me. The mirror of my self and a chiral compound of my being (sorry for that shitty organic chemistry joke haha). Through him I’ve now mustered enough courage to look at myself in the eye and face my demons. And oh, I had all of Satan’s paradise inside me. 

I still have that shit part of me inside me otherwise where else will the muck go? It’s a dormant little volcano tucked away deep beneath my cracked surface. Robbie loves me despite the blackness in my heart (sometimes). I say that he loves me because it’s the one thing we can both be sure of with each other. That’s not taking each other for granted, that’s all those countless hours spent talking and raking up expensive phone calls (national and international) coming to a standard where we can say we know each other. In the case I present him with a pink shirt I know for sure he won’t talk to me for 10mins and give me the silent treatment so that I end up knowing it was a shit decision buying him a pink shirt. In the case I get presented with a make up case, he knows I won’t settle for anything less than kitchen gadget and he would get the exact same silent treatment from me. 

Again, it’s not about my relationship with him. It’s one of my flaws, I get distracted way too much. This is my story of how this man in my life, came as the very source of life itself. Robbie is a simple guy, no frills and annoyances. From the time I’ve known him, I’ve thoroughly respected the things he stood for. As for me, I was such a confused child that I didn’t believe in boundaries, ethics or principles. I’ve lived without principles for a long time that now it was time to forge a new me. This realisation was brought about by him. I have hated change and especially when it comes to my own self, I’ve loathed it. I’ve fought with him, screamed at him that I was against this but Robbie is Robbie and is as hard as a rock. He didn’t budge so I had to. Slowly, he held my hand and made me look at him, my own mirror. I’ve always believed myself to be a free bird and I forever will be. Earlier I was free of responsibility and wasn’t brave enough to face their consequences, now I know how important freedom with a choice of responsibility is. It’s a truly beautiful thing. To not give a shit about anything but your own happiness. Your happiness will always come about with making your closest people happy. It could be your dog, lover, children, neighbors. Any and everyone can be made happy if you know the value of your choices. I’ve never had a satisfaction with how my life was turning out to be but with him to share it with, the contentment is contagious. I’m truly satisfied and I wouldn’t want any more than what I have. 

Now this was only version 1.0. There have been massive upgrades to yours truly. Hardware and software. I’ve been a no frills with food kind of girl. Been always happy with my bacon cheeseburger and a side of milkshake. All of you who know me well know about my eating habits. Now here’s a surprise. This new me is a vegetarian. Or trying my hardest to be. Why, you ask? Because Robbie and I have gone down a path we are never straying from and the first milestone is compassion for every living being. Animals are dying by millions just to feed our insatiable appetites for bacon, butter chicken and cheese. (Do watch Lucent, Forks over Knives and Earthlings when you have time). We wear fur and leather, go have fun at circuses and use make up tested on animals. It’s a very mean world we are living in and I will certainly not have my children go through living in a poisoned planet. Here, both of us are working hardest for our collective future. Now I see meat I start counting down either the number of animals that died for one dish or the number of people who start making fun of vegans or vegetarians. I’ve been guilty of mocking their beliefs too but when I got there the amount of soul searching needed was a huge task. In times like these I’m so grateful to have a partner who refuses to let me doubt myself like its a crime. Coming from an Assamese family, it has been “tradition” to eat meat and when I declared I don’t want to anymore, I was now the black sheep who didn’t conform to traditions. 

Starting to love someone may seem like a bed of roses, staying in love each and everyday after you wake up is a bigger task. Robbie makes it a breeze by just being the best friend I’ve never had. Throughout this journey of finding my self, I’ve lost friends. Ones I’ve known for years. It has seemed like a loss I’d not have been able to cope with but today I’m very glad to only share my life space with the people I care about. I’ve actually never needed more. 

Being with him, I’ve found the principles I’ve lost along the way, the truths we refuse to acknowledge and the child who never wanted to grow up. I’ve found the core of my beliefs, my passions and the burning need to save our planet. I believe in humanity that we aren’t as wicked as we make each other seem to be and all we actually need is to love. 

I want the upcoming generation to be proud of our generation and for our children to look at us and believe in having the courage to fight for beings that don’t have a voice. I’m very grounded when I say that I’m proud of my own self, that I’ll always be a work in progress and the motivation to work on my self, my actions and thoughts all go to this wonderful man who goes by the name of Robbie. He’s saved me in every way a girl can be saved (subtle Titanic line). I’ve learnt from him things that I’ve not learnt from my parents yet and honestly speaking, he is an actual dream come true. 

I am proud of the person he is, the thoughts he has and his treatment of others. He’s the one who asks me to wash my hands before eating dinner since he knows I play with stray dogs. He’s the person who is always the wall and the bed I can fall on incase everything in the world starts failing, and he is the person that I want my parents to be proud of because they know he has made a better person of their daughter. 

I remember that in the very beginning of this post I told you I’d reveal the meaning of the title. To sum it up in simple words, it means the reason for being. To find your ikigai, you need to do some deep soul searching. The discovery of your ikigai will find you the satisfaction and meaning of life. Shred away your false core to find a new growing core that lies parallel to the truth of your being. I found my ikigai and he’s a human. 

Moksha Ki Guzaarish

We are the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world. Fight club. Never has a movie given us what we needed to learn. Fight club leeched a little bit out of our bones. And that wasn’t calcium. The inherent need to change things, whether it be in our lives or cities or countries or even the world. When the movie got over, it was all but a broken dream. Not one person around us, counting our individual selves, ever tried to change things. You could still be going to the same 9-5 job, eating the same chemically enhanced French fries, staying in the same relationship that brings you pain but just because you’re too used to the comfort and warmth provided by another human being, you refuse to let go, you could still be a scared little piece of poo. Because as Tyler Durden said, you aren’t your job, the money in your bank and more things but I forget. What do I mean, you may ask? Just a little.

As an Indian, I’ve forgotten all of what I was born as. What it means to read the Vedas, to use the Bhagwad Gita for the things that seem insurmountable in life, to actually appreciate the land I have taken birth in. I and a lot of my counterparts have grown up and passed out of college with one goal in our minds, to go settle in another country. Then I think of what’s the point. The single point agendas of our existences is to amass money. Loads of it so our children can be well off. Money money and more money. We can sell our families off in the process but oh well, money is in the bank. Sit for a moment and think of what’s going on in the planet. The planet is dying (but growing more lively every day too). We have poisoned our land, spilled the blood of so many living beings (including a LOOOOOOOT of humans), poisoned the air and water that we ourselves need; all for the sake of materialistic exploitations. The diamond you crave for from your husband or to-be-husband is not growing on trees. It’s dug out of deep mines by African slaves (I use the word slaves because they are kept in filthy places, no minimum wages, no wages actually, to see their families die off for the monetary concerns of the top jewellery companies. Watch Blood Diamond as reference). The men and women have no idea what’s outside of those mines that they’re rummaging. That was a baseless rant because I’m very annoyed at the state of the world. As a person at the age that I’m in, my means are limited to writing, tweeting and maybe join a couple of rallies/walks here and there. I don’t, yet, hold significant power to change. I’m sure I do already, but somehow I haven’t tapped into this potential of mine.

Today, we are celebrating International Women’s Day. I mean I was wished like it was my birthday. So all around the world, mothers, daughters, sisters, friends, all women are being wished Women’s Day. For what joy? Where is the Men’s Day? We talk about equality, don’t we? Isn’t this unequal, putting aside a day for single gender existence celebration? Let’s get one thing absolutely straight. We are a victimised gender by our own kind. We talk about equality but I hear of so many women misusing “feminism” to have a #FreeTheNipple movement. I thoroughly agree with the fact that in the present world, there have been massive atrocities on our kind. Our kind has been raped, our children snatched away, we have been domestically abused, put down. But we have faced these atrocities while the men have also faced atrocities. Women AND men have died during wars and battles. Women AND men get raped. Women AND men have their children snatched away from them. Women AND men get abused. Equality doesn’t stand for standing up for one gender and neglecting the problems faced by the other. There are lawyers (women; if you don’t believe me, look up the TED Talk by Deepika Bhardwaj) who stand for men’s rights in times of crisis to their kind by women. Feminism is not the lack of men, feminism is the growth of our kind with men by our side. Because, let’s face it (I’m kidding here, please don’t kill me), how would we conceive without men? I stand for LGBT rights but what’s biological is the truth. Both the genders need each other.

I also agree with the fact that there are some societies which believe in women being of a lower existence. Our work is cut out to bring the children of these same societies on believing that women who play with them, marry them and birth them are not lower. Let’s just talk about India. We have gruesome rapes, honor killings, death of so many women. The gender uprising of women in this age is something which grew suddenly. This sudden transition was not a welcome change to the men who have lived in societies where the woman’s honor is of the highest value. Don’t go on the paradigm about how honorable is raping and killing your own daughter. I don’t advocate this and certainly take measures to protect my own dignity. When you see how India was placed historically, we have had queens, princesses so strong that they were consulted on national issues and on affairs of the empire. They have been celebrated as mothers and wives. They have had couplets and stories written about the strength they have for facing the world. Why does our society have goddesses and no other society or as you may want to put it, religion, have no women weilding the highest powers?

Why did we need a gender uprising? It’s very simple to see, if you do your research right. The abject lack of respect for women came from the multiple colonizations that we have had, in India. The Britishers had not given the women of their society a voting right, a voice and all they were seen as were mothers to their heirarchy or objects. Islamism doesn’t believe in giving a woman rights either. This is not a contest to disprove religions, but think about it logically. Indian women have not needed to wear burqas or long gowns. We don’t have to hide our bodies from anything but that also doesn’t mean we have the leverage to wear clothes that show most of our skin. Dignity and self respect remains within the confines of the clothes on our bodies. Trust me, I have learnt it the hard way.  We were not seen as seductresses but as beautiful women with our sexuality celebrated. Why is a saree a beautiful attire? Because it maintains the feminity of a person. It never is bold, nor showing any skin. It covers up at all the right places. Men in India have revered their women. They have respected us to give us swords to take to battle. They have trusted us to guard cities. They have trusted us to help them in life.

Men are not the enemies. Please don’t get a wrong idea of feminism. It is not the growth of womankind while stamping out the men. I see so many woman doing wrong things to men. This involves manipulation, emotional blackmails and mental harassment. I pity the men who’s ladies cite “I can do whatever the fuck I want” and go ahead and get drunk, sleep with other men while being in a committed relationship. That is not how relationships should work. If we have been given the liberty of certain laws at our disposal (dowry laws) let’s not misuse them. Let’s help the men in trouble because we are strong and can stand united. If women are not going to be the strength of other women, men will never be. A woman doesn’t have the right to call another woman a slut or characterless. A man doesn’t either. But if a man witnesses women being disrespectful towards a woman, they take the liberty to abuse women. And let’s just say, from there on, we have a slippery slope.

It is beyond time that we as free, conscious and beautiful women take charge and actually rewire the meaning of equality. Men won’t help us, politicians won’t help, massive organizations with money to spend on gender equality won’t help us, unless you and I as individuals take up the simple matter of respecting our own kind. Women don’t need to rally around naked (or almost) for a SlutWalk to be successful (Amber Rose, I’m talking to you). And if a SlutWalk needs to happen, all women who participate in it are, by inference, sluts??!? What is the point? Can’t we have protests without going naked for it? We are giving others reasons to call us names. There is a responsibility that needs to come. The choice to make the right decision. You can’t be walking around naked in a SlutWalk and demanding respect. I don’t agree with it. And ladies, respect is always earned. You will not earn respect from sleeping with multiple partners, belittling your own partner with just a simple reason that you have been oppressed for long and now it’s time to shine. That’s not how respect works and certainly not self-respect.

I see so many women now going to work, including me. Now, I’m not married yet but I do have a responsibility towards my home (parents) and my partner. Going to work shouldn’t mean a man has to take care of home and children. A man’s responsibility lies in providing for his woman and children, in protecting the family. We all have faced it, men aren’t built for it, they pretty much suck at it. Occasionally, your man might whip up the most amazing candlelit dinner for you but he won’t be able to do it everyday with keeping his sanity intact. That’s where we come in. A woman doesn’t become a lesser part of a relationship if she decides to work and take care of her home. And certainly, she gains so much of my respect if she stays home and takes care of everyone. Providing food and comfort to the family each day, everyday takes immense courage. Just making food thrice a day for a week put me out of all my energy, I don’t know how my mother does it. My man doesn’t become a wimp in the relationship if he agrees to take care of the house and I don’t get any leverage on him. My man won’t be downtrodden if he likes giving me a foot massage after the end of a day at work and I’m not his slave if I return the favor. If my partner is supportive of the things I do, it doesn’t befall on me to act irresponsibly just because “he has given me the freedom”. If I work, it would be my responsibility to come back home to him each night, no clauses there. It would always be my responsibility to give him a shoulder for support and strength because a man always looks up to his woman.

Look at us Indian women. We do so much ourselves, it’s hard to even think anyone in this world does so much. We have a billion roles to play, and this is not the time to nit pick about International Women’s Day on the 8th of March. We need to rise for our kind, we need to shine for our children and for the men who support us. It would be a pointless world without men lifting us into the roles we have always been picked to play. We as women have 365 days to celebrate Women’s Day, it’s only a matter of time we recognise this fact. Feminism shouldn’t be hated by men because it has only entailed our kind either going nude or reverse hating men. I am not saying even in the slightest bit that women have not worked towards the betterment of women. Everyone has. But I urge all of you to be responsible. We need men to rise for us as our equals, not above or beneath. Don’t victimise yourself; don’t ask for a seat in the metro but go on ahead to talk shit about men not doing anything and being useless pigs. Beyond all jobs and daily lives that we live, our primary purpose is to love. And love we shall.

 

Khushboo

Kintsukorai 

What is it about wounds that makes us cringe looking at them, but still want to keep itching or scratching it all the time? It’s like that ex right? You hated him/her for fucking your life up but keep going into the same territory all the time. You see them and just like that you’re wounded. That’s an emotional and a mental wound. Flesh wounds are so much more tolerable. Sometimes. So why am I onto wounds today? Because, simple, they make you bleed. I remember I had a major accident where most of the flesh on my wrist had gone and I could see the bone. Later, since I’d broken my bone too, my whole hand was cast in plaster. 6 weeks later when the operation theatre guy was sawing the plaster off, I saw my own open wound and fainted and for three days after it, I kept fainting everytime I saw that particular wound. So that was a pretty bad experience and now I carry a scar reminding me of that. If we shift our focus from wounds to scars, a greater topic opens up that is so much more personal. Scars stay. They always stay and keep poking you at the absolute wrong time about how they came along. They have a way of reminding you things that even the best movies can’t. Everytime someone mentions how they were scarred for life, they’re poking at a wound of their own selves. They may bandage it up with lots of money, sex and materialistic ventures, but those stitches will forever come off. Unless…unless you shove a finger inside, rip it open, show them those wounds exist and use their own little sense of comfort to bandage it up. It takes oh-so-long, but that’s a permanent close down of that wound. It’ll stay forever. As a scar, as a reminder of how much more worse it could be. Take for example, love. Now people go on about how love is shit, brings pain to everyone and whoever has been hurt in love goes through endless cycles of random sex, abusing drugs or simple alcoholism. Never have those people ever realised how it takes two to tango. You need the other person to dig into you. Not in frenzy but with complete grace and love for you. If you have been hurt and thrown away in love you’ve never been in love. True, it hurts. But one day when in an intense conversation with Robbie about relationships he mentioned how relationships can only be alive by the two’s hunger to sustain it. Again, you’ll fight and argue and then hate each other, but you aren’t hating the person you know, you’re hating the parts of your partner that don’t sit comfortably with you. You keep praying that they’ll listen to you but eventually you need to realise that’s them. That’s inherent to them. You must make peace with their flaws so that you, as a responsible partner, can help fix their wounds. Their wounds make you want to protect them, cocoon them inside you. But what’s this? You have even bigger wounds. How do you deal with that? That’s when you talk to them. Explain all that needs to go into your wounds. All the care and understanding that you require and pray to god it would happen. You’re just an ever-evolving puzzle piece. Each wounds settles and unsettles you. Like the way an earthquake gently undulates the surface of the planet in a tiny way possible, the same way your wounds make you, you. Inside and out. Only the sun remains to shine out your bum but we shall get to that. Hasn’t it happened so many days when you had your wounds ripped open again and again by the one person who’s supposed to heal them and all you’ve ever done is lie bleeding on the kitchen floor waiting for a pick up? That’s you evolving through that wound. True relationships are that. They’re butter. Warm and comfy and make you obese and cause so many diseases. But unlike butter, relationships set you free. Atleast the beautiful ones. And I’m not talking about break ups. I mean showing you the right way, the only way. That’s a heartbreaking path to be on, full of healing and reopened wounds. But do go through the roller coaster that’s going to be your life. All you need is to trust them to take you out of pain too. 

There’ll always be good things, and then there’ll be better. You need to choose the wounds you’re good with opening, because once you do, they’ll be changed forever and also the way you’ll look into them. 

Wounds are a pretty nasty things to have but you’re only human. Now scars, scars are cool since you know you’re out of whatever was causing you pain and you have a lesson etched right there on your flesh to tell you to stay within your emotional range. Know when to let things go. 

The title of my post is the famous form of pottery repair by the Japanese. Their potters have a way of joining broken pottery using gold to fill the cracks instead of cheap gum. Doing that gives those objects a new sense of preciousness. That’s what we all need, we don’t want to be repaired, we have to elevate ourselves to preciousness. 

Blink of home far away. 

We are inching towards the closing of another year, 2015. I’m sure the only sentence you must be uttering right now would “oh it passed away so fast, I never realised.” True. Happens to us every year doesn’t it? Beautiful things have happened to all of us; all of us have gone through things we weren’t meant to, things have happened nonetheless. Tiny little question that popped up in my head, did we find home finally? In our relentless search for things that make sense, have you found “ghar”? The home where you are a melted pot of butter. The home where you don’t need heaters because cozy is always the word of the day. The home where the cold, beautiful waters of the glaciers greet you when you enter after a hard day of work. Finally if you really have found home, what is it? Is it the true definition of home the way construction companies sell it? Is it the brick mortar and paint or is it something else? Is it your own state of mind? I do really hope it’s your own self. That’s the place you can be yourself. 
“Ujjla hi ujjla shahar hoga jismein hum tum banayenge ghar” 
Robbie had introduced me to this song called Ghar by Piyush Mishra. The moment I heard it I fell in love with Robbie all over again. Not that it was possible but it did happen. Since I’ve known him, the deep feeling of being at home has never left me. His arms really do call out like the mother who lays down warm chicken soup on the table on a cold winter night. He’s all that and more. But it’s not about my story. It’s yours, it’s all of ours. How the need of a home trumps the need for all the money for clothes, gadgets and fame! Humanity has never been as homeless as it is now. Living in mansions and haven’t really felt what being at home is. We come back to a place to rest our tired bodies every night, we come back to the same schedule of programs we TiVo every night, we come back to the same little pattern of weekly food plans. We come back to our comfortable monotony. We have ceased wondering about what our home is. We sing songs about things that we miss constantly, we rue the absence of a place or person unknown. But do you or me; have we ever thought of what we have but never been in? You can be right there in your sprawling apartment, with everything done well by that really famous interior decorator who charged you a quarter of your savings. You have people coming along to see your house and exclaim at the use of Murano glass in your tables, or the teak wood in your bed frame. Whatever you did, you did well. One day, you have a small child come into your drawing room and exclaim how much your house resembles a hotel. You then stop in your tracks and wonder if you spent all that money on frivolous details. But the mother of this child will tell you how stupid her child is, chide him for being too loud. Your conscious thoughts of how uselessly you’ve spent your money start fading away and you again fill yourself up with pride at the house you have at present. It’s not home, it’s your model of status and fame. This will only take you there but never beyond, consciously or unconsciously. 

Your home will be one where the lights of the galaxies shine with the one you’re staring into. Your home will be the kind poets talk about; full of love, respect and all that is dear to you. Your home is one where your favourite songs are on loop but you never tire of listening to them. Your home, where you know, that bubble where you and your partner reside. The one where you come to tired and hang yourself to the silken threads of all things beautiful. The one which takes your tiredness away. The one where your horizons touch and stars fall beneath your feet. You shall make this realm jealous. Even though home will forever elude you, you still know how deep in your heart home resides. It’s you and him, you and her. All you will talk of, think about, see and feel is them. All of them is home for you, all of home is them for you. We talk about stepping out of our comfort zones, it’s only the parts of yourself that you just don’t need anymore. You need to see what and how best those can be shaken off of you. It’s always only a matter of time. You have everything you’ll always ever need. Home will forever be in you. In your arms, in your eyes, in your touch, home is all of you. 

Aviator 

There was once a man, who found solace in words. Words true and false alike. He believed them so truly, that changing a word left him breathless. As beautiful as the violins on an orchestra symphony, as fragile as the wrong note of a dedicated song from one lover to another, he was that human being. A mirror ageless, reflecting all that was thrown at him, absorbing only the pure light of beings, he grew into a superseded consciousness. Undoubtedly faulty from core, still patching things up left, right and centre. He was the flyer, the one in love with the open skies, looping around in his airplane every chance he had. You can chance upon his widest grin as he comes at high speed towards the ground, making you taste blood on your tongue, and pulls up at the nth moment and you see the polluted trail of his plane’s exhaust. The madness of all the fascination, infatuation and pure love you’d feel ever was all for him on his fingertips, slowly lacing around his being letting him know you’re the one standing your ground, while he tries to make up your mind to fly away with him. Maybe you won’t be ready unless you sit next to him, headphones over your head, talking aviation lingo. But what the hell, it’s only the seat in a machine flying 10,000 feet in the sky, slowly inching higher. Again, what the hell, why would you need to worry about anything when you and him decided to build a home in the skies. Why the worry when he caught you every time you fell with a light snap of his fingers. When you both reach the zenith in the skies, he pulls his sunglasses down, the ones which have been shining golden in the morning sun, looks at you and you eventually melt away. Melt in that wonderful sunshine of a gaze, looking at your being, recognising you as the soul you are, not for your face, body or work. You don’t need food, you have this man. The one that completes your sentences, your happiness and sadness alike, the one who holds you up, opens your wings and takes you flying. As you stand as a third person looking at how much of beauty lies within the aviator you chose as a partner, you know why no one else had it working with you. His words make you believe in the immensity of the universe that makes you up, his touch changes your perception of time, space and love. As Interstellar put it correctly, it was love all along, not the 5D beings. We rise in love, we become the aliens that we are afraid of. 

He is the kind that stokes a fire he lit within yourself. Truly know, he is your home, on land, in air and within soul.