Moonlight

The grass looked lush and green, it was early morning and the dew rested over it, just enough to feel the soothing coolness. Resting their heads upon it, on an early Monday morning, two girls chatted away. The gardener was not to arrive for his work and shoo them away for at least an hour. And a weekday symbolised tranquility, since most early morning joggers had to rush to work.
Their innocence plagued their tongues and imagination scintillated, darkening their morbid fears, just for a little while.
While the sky was convulsing it's way from bright and shiny to dark and gloomy, one girl whispered to the other, "I just want to be happy, you know."
"I know. Me too."
"I see people being sad. And they want to be doctors and all other great things. I just want to smile everyday. Do you think we'll ever be so?"
"I reckon we'll become Doctors and other great things. But that's that."
They were growing up. They just weren't aware of it.

And they never discussed it ever again. Just two friends. Parted ways. Grew from boisterous and unabashed to impervious and bottled up.
Maybe by now they know, being happy isn't really a phase or a marathon end. It's a mood.
And just like the moon, it's sometimes present wholly, sometimes partially. On cloudy days, it may not be seen at all. But it's still there. Hidden somewhere, it's moonlight; igniting hope and love through those vociferous storms.

You're a Wallflower. You see things and you understand them.

I just finished reading this book. It's called 'The Perks Of Being A Wallflower'. The book's quite depressing, actually. At least if you're going through a transforming phase anyway. But it's nice, in an eerie way. 

People have probably seen the movie. It's good. Never as good as the book of course. 

They say it's a book about coming off age. But I don't think so. It's just about a 16-year-old boy, Charlie. His English teacher, Bill, gives him books to read and that secretly makes me wish that someone gave me books like that, you know. I think it makes a book a tad bit more interesting if someone has asked you to read it. But then again, perspective matters. 

There are these lines in the books. Some that really can be felt deeply at an instance. Like when Bill tells Charlie that 'We accept the love we think we deserve.' And then there are instances where Charlie simply says that 'in that moment I felt infinite'. I'm still trying to figure out what that means. I mean, I could explain it in terms of words but I think I am just searching for that feeling. It sounds special. 

Then there is this thing Charlie says, 'Even though we don't have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from here.' 

As of now, I want to read the book again. I don't know if I will but I want to. 

It's an epistolary novel. Charlie writes these letters to some pen pal he doesn't know. So basically, it's just Charlie's insight of the entire world. He's a character portrayed more taciturn and socially awkward. Yet emotionally strong. Even though he cries a lot. It's inspiring. 

Weirdly, I could relate to it. Not that I feel exactly the way he does. But it's just that if I had to write that way, to somebody far off, somebody who would have an equivocal perspective to my thoughts, I think I would write that way. I think that's how I would sound. Digging in to every single detail and penning it down. 

We can't all pay attention to every detail, right? But I think subconsciously we all do. I mean, it's just a thing. Like if you had to select an ice-cream flavour, you'd go to the shop, pick up one and walk out but then the next day somebody decided to bombard you with the unrealistic nightmare of writing an essay on why you chose the particular ice-cream flavor. You'd be able to do it. Suddenly reasons would manifest like crystals in front of your eyes. So I guess, we notice a lot and understand simultaneously. We just have these walls we've truly build, for the sake of hypocrisy. 

That's what I choose to believe anyway.

Between June and July

This is such an old post. I remember composing it last year I guess. Just found it in my drafts. It's still as original and true as it seemed while I typed it out.

The wind swept across my face as I was sitting there watching the leaves move. This wind made chills run up my spine. Not because it was cold after a whole of 3 heated months but because this wind was bringing along with it a lot of new things.
A new season, new rains, new studies, new memories, new gossip, and most of all new people. Hopefully.
This wind reminded me of how my life takes a twist every year in this very month. Or at least around the same time. Between June and July. There is this extremely old pattern about my life. Every year April and May are the best months. I have a lot of fun in every way possible. And then as soon as May ends things start to wind up in a very outlandish manner. Something unexpected happens. Every year I meet some people and they drift apart. I have seen and heard enough to tag that as normal. But still, it surprises me how this very month brings out its best and worst and shoves it on the table and then it is my job to handle them both. My job is to handle the change. Yet again. Today I think I bid goodbye to a lot many anonymous people who I thank for indulging in my life and making things all the more interesting and intriguing
We won't always have them all in our life but from what I have learnt, when a box of cookies is over there is always a new flavor in the market!

A friendship that lasts, for the good.

My favorite Best Friend-ship is that of Meredith and Cristina's from Grey's Anatomy. But they have their reasons and I can't have a friendship like that. Also, their friendship is the most ideal one.

“That was the thing about best friends. Like sisters and mothers, they could piss you off and make you cry and break your heart, but in the end, when the chips were down, they were there, making you laugh even in your darkest hours.” 
-Kristin Hannah, Firefly Lane

When I was much younger, a best friend was someone you hung out with all time. Someone you could roam around with all the time, play crazy games, call up for homework and discuss 'Hannah Montana' with.
Then this weird thing happened. The definition of a Best Friend suddenly began to alter. And it was no longer the homework buddy, because homework didn't matter. It was no longer the one I played crazy games with because there was no concept of games left. And, eventually, the people I began roaming around the most with, grew to become my sore enemies.
This transformation happened over a period of years. There came a time when I had no idea who my Best Friend really was.
But I grew out of that too.

This sudden change had ambushed me. But, in a way, it only made the definition clearer.

They say a Best Friend is one who sticks by you through thick and thin. But maybe that's too narrow a definition.

I think, for me, a Best Friend is just someone you enjoy with. And that sort of includes everything. You can't hate someone you enjoy with? You can't want to slap them, either. If someone hurts you, you can't like them. So I guess, someone who has been there long enough for you to enjoy their company constitutes for a Best Friend.

Best Friends can be hidden anywhere. For some it's their childhood mate, for others it's their mom or their lover. It's so varying. But one common entity is that everyone enjoys in the company of that one person.

Being friends with someone even though each moment with them is hell for you, is pointless.
So now, I only want a Friendship that lasts, for the good. 

My last post as a 15 year old crackpot :D

15 more days. 15 MORE days. 15 more DAYS. 

It gets better every time I say it. Yay!! I'm gonna be Sixteen in, what, 15 more days!! Haha :D I am so excited! My mom doesn't see why. She says it's the same every year. You just grow older. And this time, for once, I won't even be chilling. I am going to be studying for my boards! >_< I know, right? It's still exciting! :D I'm just this hyper every year. I can't wait to reach 40 and see if this enthusiasm lasts.

It's been a cake of a year! So tasty but makes you fat, at the same time. :P 

I've grown. I've learnt. I have broken bonds. I have things to accept. But, I also have something to look forward to and a lot of sweet memories, a million stories to tell! I am gonna have to mould, again. New place, new people and godknowswhatelse. However, I'm sure it's for the greater good.

It feels like the end of an era or something. Tenth is getting over. And things are now going to change. I won't be as close to the people I have been for so many years. I might not even sit on the same benches and try not to doze off to sleep. I'm never gonna crib about my school. And nobody's ever going to look at me and remind me how much time I have left for my boards. I never thought I would talk like this but I am doing so. I actually might just miss these crappy school years. 

Wow. My farewell is done. And I am never again going to see the same 200 people at one place, like I have been doing for the past 8 years. This feels unacceptable. But, alas, I have no choice but to swim along with the waves. 

People still have school like after 10th, don't they? But, somehow, I feel it's never the same. I'm assuming, of course. 

Our generation is going to one lucky generation, though. So many years down the line, and we might still be aware of the whereabouts and happenings of some of our friends' lives. 

I don't know. It just feels so devastating but exciting at the same time. I could dieeeeeee :P

OkayByeeeeee. 

Now I'll write once I am done being Fifteen. I hope to get more crack-headed by then. ^_^

Normal was never the New Black

                                                      

''Excuse me? Can I fit in? is what she mentally asks as she pushes her way in between the two of them and sits there gaping. Trying to find a perfect word to utter. It's still awkward there. Even today, after a passage of so many months she still feels the unfamiliar breeze when she sits between them. It's as if she could never be one of them. Always in their own world, they probably never considered her a part of it. And she. She always tried so hard to fit in amongst these people. Friends. She wouldn't even bother being discreet anymore.
What a shame.
She'd always tried so hard, thinking she could make a change in the cycle. But somehow, they never reciprocated. Not the way she expected them to.

There used to be days when she would go home and cry to sleep. Or just walk away before she would dissolve into tears. But today, it was better and she could cry tears of pride.''

Fitting in. I hate the whole concept to the face of it. I am sure we weren't born to fit in!! We were born to be ourselves. To let our wings out and fly in the open, discovering beyond daily horizons, grasping before it slips and letting go for what's awaiting.
But, hey that sounds so much cooler than it is in reality. In reel life, it's a dream. A dream that reaches us wide awake and doesn't gawk at us. In reel life it has a meaning of it's own, a meaning that reaches all hearts and fixes itself in every brain, endowing them with a whole lot of positive energy. But when we are smacked open to the caressing morning warmth, stepping into our daily routine brings about the some thoughts and explosives we cannot change. When we're here, we're here to be like them. Moreover, to be a part of them.
None of us have been a fan of fitting in. Yet, for some it seems to flow in their blood and for some it's an ache.
It's always about trying to fit in. Fitting in your jeans. Fitting in the list of the top 10 scholars. Fitting in the last piece of puzzle. Fitting your clothes in one suitcase. Fitting in last year's dress. Fitting in as a cool kid. Fitting in with the boozers. Fitting in while talking. Fitting in with clothes. Fitting in the right shoe size. Fitting the right cap on the bottle. Finding the right haircut to fit in. Fitting, fitting, fitting!
What’s funnier is how through the whole process of fitting in we hurt others and sometimes ourselves.
       We want to be 'normal'. Whatever that is. The oxford dictionary says, ''conforming to a standard; usual, typical, or expected.''
We'll try to be how everyone in our family has been. We'll try to be how are friends are. We'll try to be how the world is and what it expects of us. We'll go with the flow. And that's pathetic. PATHETIC.
And I think it sucks. Sucks for those who are trying so hard and nobody ever sees it.

But I think it's an indication. It's the God's horses screaming to us. We will all try to fit in, because you know what, it doesn't work that way. One can't be born to swim against the water. It's something we learn. The aeroplane is built to take off against the wind.

Similarly, if you're pushing too hard, it's probably time you realise that this isn't what you're meant for. You're meant to be outstanding. And it's time to let go now. 
Fitting in is not the ultimatum. Because if it was, then Cindrella's shoe wouldn't fall off. 

Chasing

                                    

She was sniffing the coolness in the air, with the cigarette in her hand. Was it even possible to sniff the coolness in the air. She was smoking, for god's sake! Forget it. She told herself. This habit is not washing off too quickly. She's scratched the most delicate part of her senses and there's no way she can bring back the polish again. No way. At all. Her legs idly moving in constant rhythm to each other.

    One more puff, and out again.

Yes, it has become a daily thing. Could she not retreat. She was repulsed   by herself. By this version of herself that she'd become. The one that didn't even exist. But, it did. It did exist. She looked down at her own hands. They looked pretty once upon a time.. But why didn't they now? To an ordinary person they still would, maybe. But to her, they had been scarred. Scarred with unfathomable days and months that had brought her here. She was sore from inside. And no book was to help her escape this. No night's high could make her omit the feelings for a lifetime.

And yet she had such conversations daily. Such moments of self-realisation where she sought to find a way to pull her put of this numb guilt. And when she was almost there, she would be pushed back to square one just like all the other times because that coward within her would shriek, ''You fell down while climbing the mountain once, how will you climb back up again with the wounds still fresh?''.

She was moving around, floating to lands wherever, sometimes in her dreams. And it was beauty. Absolute perfection. Here, she saw everything with different eyes. Eyes that were not rotting from her heart. Heart? It's a body organ. Its work is to pump blood. Yeah, she's a science kid. Still, she would creep into the church sometimes and confess. Because it would lighten her heart.

She coughed. Lighten the heart? If only there was a theory proving that no such equation existed.

Today she was going to try harder. She was going to fight with herself. Why today? She doesn't know. She never will. Ripping through the covers that instilled darkness in her bubble, she dropped the cigarette stub. And looked behind at the door. The door she was going to swing open and fall, if that's what it would cost to reach out and stand under the sun. Too much had been charred away. Too much.

We all have habits we would rather not. It's about taking that 'rather not' and respecting it. If that's how you feel, then don't let the otherwise overwhelm you.

My Visit to NDA xD

I'm extremely proud to say, that today, on 25th November 2012 I visited the National Defence Academy of Pune, located near Khadakwasla and witnessed the final rehearsal of the Passing out Parade. And it was definitely an honour. It was exciting and still is, but that's probably because it is the most prestigious thing I have ever witnessed in the 15 years of my living! :D
The NDA is a joint-forces academy. Here the cadets of the Air-force, the Navy and the Army, all three are trained before they take up their next step.
I have to say, it was by far the most mind-blowinng thing I have seen!! The parades that we see on TV on 26th January and 15th August are cool but seeing the march past live is cooler! The men parading, looked like men. Like real, sturdy men! Gives me a proud feeling, I guess. They were so disciplined. I think, people like us who cannot survive a month without going and smelling the air-conditioned air of the mall will have some pretty tough time surviving a life where you have to be marching even while you're just walking around. o.O
'Walking' reminds me of their parade. What synchronisation! :O They looked like statues. Like living machinery moving their feet to the beat of the other's feet! And their hands, swinging to the rythm looked like wheels of a train emitting LED white light (white gloves). Commanding them was, I think, an alumnus. And OH MY GOD, he was screaming till his throat went sore and still: the perfection! I think we don't work half as hard as they do. Keeping aside the fact, that everyone does their own share of hardwork within their own caliber and comparisons don't really occupy a space.
The place was beautiful. Fresh air and lush, green trees! There was a huge library and green-house. It's just their own little world, which in reality touches the boundaries. Literally.
It might sound ordinary, but it wasn't. Rather exciting and different. I can't even make it sound how it was worth the sacrifice of sleep.
I wish I had taken my camera though. Could have captured something?
I am just fascinated.

Believe what you know, not what you're told.

“As long as you have life and breath, believe. Believe for those who cannot. Believe even if you have stopped believing. Believe for the sake of the dead, for love, to keep your heart beating, believe. Never give up, never despair, let no mystery confound you into the conclusion that mystery cannot be yours.” ― Mark Helprin, A Soldier of the Great War.

BELIEF. A magical thing one possesses.
Millions of us walking on the street, with a billion different thoughts jittering up in our heads, a thousand different hearts pounding, yet we all believe. Consciously or sub-consciously, we all are habitual of keeping faith in something. How else would superstitions exist? Happy endings, light at the end of the tunnel, hard work paying off, natural healing, time healing up all wounds, or God himself. The list has a countless number of things! Yet there's one thing we all, in particular, have been taught to never eradicate from our mind, heart and soul. The one thing that has given rise to the Satan, parallely. GOD. So, a very common question: Does he exist? If yes, then why do we always only refer to him as 'he' or the 'almighty'? These are questions that buzz around one's head so very often that eventually we learn to ignore it, talking ourselves into believing that there exist no answers. We blind ourselves to the one very important question which can help us walk on the path of becoming a better person from the current path we're on, where all we do is sniff like a dog and move towards it, simply adhering to what we have been obliged to do. So I wanted answers, not to pen them down or anything but to clear that part of my head which was occupied by this dubiousness. I wouldn't say I went to an isolated room, dressed up like a comical scientist and sat there for days mulling over my thoughts, trying to dig up answers for my peace of mind. It was there, of course, but at the back of my mind, trailing around, WAITING.
Well, I don't know how it happened. Ask anybody who EVER discovered anything, he'll never be able to inform you about exactly how and when it struck him. Similarly, IT JUST HAPPENED. Everyone could have different explanations, but as long as they help them suffice all those explanations are right! Because of the sudden strike of lightening that hit my head I think a lot of my doubts and confusion about believing in God and not believing have pretty much been settled up there. So here's the thing.
I really don't think God exists. Don't get judgmental here, I'm clearly not an atheist. I just think God is something we cling to. 
In the words of John Buchan, "An atheist is a man who has no invisible means of support." God is like an invisible support to man. All those idols of Krishna and Ram, well they are still scientifically trying to prove their existence, right? They could have been real, God could have been a person but to me he is not. Although, (I know this will sound really contradicting) when I think of God I always picture Lord Krishna yet I think God is more of a feeling. You know, like something to push you back up when you trip and fall. Something to give us answers for when we're out of them. Humans are flawed, not perfect. We won't always have the answers now, will we? Hence, in situations like these when we don't know what to expect we turn to him.

Because being clueless feels a tiny bit better when you know that someone up there knows what you don't.

Fear is Overwhelming

''I don't like this feeling.

It feels like I'm sinking into the earth.

I'm pushing my feet so hard against the ground, exhausting myself to bits but in vain because the more I try, the more I grow distant from the sky and merge into the darkness.

All these papers and books are just lying there, sucking my soul, penetrating through my eyes into the tiny corners of my brain, making every part go insane with frustration. 

Those numbers, they won't dance around, but just sit there, making whatsoever no sense to me. Probably avenging me for some deed. KARMA.

 And tears, of course. How can they not be present at such an occasion.''