its 2.30 in the morning, and i have been still up for various reasons, one obviously that i might just suffer from a hypochondriac's version of insomnia...the other possible reasons are reigning in full chaos in the insufficient amount of space that i call my brain, for me to bother figuring them out.
I was just doodling on paper, and my train of thought decided to go down memory station (yes.. i know...cheesy) and i realised that there was one wish that i had that i never really got down to fulfilling. having a pen pal... or something close to it. I always wanted to have a postal friendship with a complete stranger, not divulging any details about one another but just being able to share whatever was on their minds. yah, kind of like the movie 'You Have Got Mail', no surprise that it became one of my favorite movies to watch again and again. I love the whole phase of their mail conversation where they just talk about things they love, the things that make them sad.... anything and everything that makes their life as it is.
The fact that they don't know any personal details about each other, just makes it a much more romantic concept. As always, after watching a movie i love, i just fall in love with it all over again. But this was something i had wanted to do before i even heard of Tom Hanks or Meg Ryan. There used to be these special columns in children's magazines that had kids sending their addresses for the sole purpose of acquiring a pen pal. Thats where i got the idea. but i couldn't do anything about it because i just wasn't that obsessed about it then to be actually crazy enough to give it a try.
Its different meeting a stranger and then getting to know them better and making them a part of your life. I wanted to make sure that the stranger always remained mysteriously strange. You can divulge your darkest secrets and confess to your hearts content to this person without having to lookout for future judgement days. you can avoid feeling low by just talking to this person about what you are going through at that moment without having to bother explaining the beginning or end of the story. and most importantly, you can just be yourself, the tiniest pretenses forgotten, in front of this faceless, nameless entity who just happens to become your best friend.
Obviously for this all to happen, there are a lot of ground rules, and the fact that this private and perfect stranger of yours can actually understand what you mean more than half of the time... in other words, gets what you mean.
i still have this wish that i want to take care of, and i am glad i haven't forgotten about this, because it in a small way enables me to keep writing like now.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Sunday, July 31, 2011
My little french heaven..!
I just watched 'A good Year' and i am just irrevocably n deeply falling in love with everything french... the music, the wine, the food, the people and their lives.
Every time after watching or reading about something that had something very french about it, I had the deep longing to be able to just have enough money to buy a ticket and just stay there for a good 2 months there. Paris is a dream, but i would love to rent a car and just act all touristy and stay in a village inn, or maybe even a bed and breakfast, feast on cheese and drink my fill of country wine, sit in cafes all day.... oh that would be something... I think this just about sums my dream holiday... actually not. I dont think i can really put in words what i really feel when i start daydreaming about this perfect holiday... its overwhelming... its literally a love i haven't met but cant forget anyways. you can probably make put how truly lost i am in my fantasy when it comes to my piece of french heaven...
to be able to just sit back and relax, in some ancient rickety old wooden chair, in the view of some vineyards handed down the generations, to be able to catch the beautiful sunset with some delicious full bodied burgundy... ah... i wish.. and i just keep on wishing..!
Friday, July 22, 2011
There are so many things that you want to do with your life at one time, that in the end you are really lucky if you get to do even one thing in a complete fashion. that's what my life is like right now. i have become so absorbed in the planning of the to do lists that i don't think i remember anymore what i intended to do in the first place. the worst part is when you realsie this.....like for now.
i am working right now...where some days i cant get enough of what i do and well there are obviously those days that are represented by this imaginary question mark in the air to convey the question - "what the hell am i doing and why ?". i wanted to have the cliched standing-on-my-own-two-feet humble beginnings, i wanted to struggle but it all sounds good when you put it words and not in actions. but i guess it becomes a whole better when you are surrounded by people like yourself. what can i say, misery truly loves company.
i want to write and shoot portraits and design wonderful things... but its hard enough to keep up with just being myself for now. i like the lack of any social response here. its like writing your journal in public... where nobody is expected to bother with it.
i always wanted to be that girl with all the interesting stuff in her small notepad or sketchbook.... and all that incriminating evidence that points to a creative mind. i still do wish for that kind of a parallel universe sometimes. but somehow, i don't know if its my chronic laziness, if anythings to be blamed... the next thought is pure contentment or the kind of zen aura that envelops me, letting me be at peace with my life and all the things happening in it. i don't regret not being able to do those things. i am sure it would have been quite different if perhaps i had made the effort to achieve what i wanted... but i guess i lack that drive... i am just happy the way things are......i just sound like a pure thoroughbred country girl.
i am working right now...where some days i cant get enough of what i do and well there are obviously those days that are represented by this imaginary question mark in the air to convey the question - "what the hell am i doing and why ?". i wanted to have the cliched standing-on-my-own-two-feet humble beginnings, i wanted to struggle but it all sounds good when you put it words and not in actions. but i guess it becomes a whole better when you are surrounded by people like yourself. what can i say, misery truly loves company.
i want to write and shoot portraits and design wonderful things... but its hard enough to keep up with just being myself for now. i like the lack of any social response here. its like writing your journal in public... where nobody is expected to bother with it.
i always wanted to be that girl with all the interesting stuff in her small notepad or sketchbook.... and all that incriminating evidence that points to a creative mind. i still do wish for that kind of a parallel universe sometimes. but somehow, i don't know if its my chronic laziness, if anythings to be blamed... the next thought is pure contentment or the kind of zen aura that envelops me, letting me be at peace with my life and all the things happening in it. i don't regret not being able to do those things. i am sure it would have been quite different if perhaps i had made the effort to achieve what i wanted... but i guess i lack that drive... i am just happy the way things are......i just sound like a pure thoroughbred country girl.
Friday, June 10, 2011
The mouse in my mind...
Its 4 in the morning and theres a mouse in my room.
No, i am not a ridiculously early riser, but definitely a ridiculously late sleeper, and no i am not up so late because theres a mouse in my room. Theres not one piece of furniture except for my bed, on which i sit suffering from my insomnia like symptoms, that hasn't been climbed on, scurried upon, sniffed and tested by this inquisitive mouse. I call it inquisitive, and with good reason, because in-spite of innumerable hiding places thanks to amazing amount of clutter in my room, it has decided to make me an audience to it's athletic abilities. This mouse is certainly one of the most boldest ones that i have ever encountered, not that i have encountered many.
Its curiousness has made me curious about it. While it sits on the highest point of its mountain (that would be d couch with its multitude of bags and trash) with an unpredictable terrain, sniffing around for better vantage points, i am quite simply captivated by it, enough to start writing about it.
But then my over-active brain is not happy with just documenting this incident. I realized theres a theory to this behavior. We are drawn to any individual who behaves differently than predicted. I expect all mice to be tiny, meek and fearful of anything with a larger mass than them. But when one lone mouse decides to act differently than this expectation of mine, i unknowingly am drawn to its movements and continue watching it.
Similarly if a person, whom we interact with on daily basis, decides to suddenly start drinking tea instead of coffee, we notice it. We might not comment on it or voice our reaction, but we certainly notice it. Why do we do that ? why do we expect every individual to behave the same for the rest of their lives...?
this theory might be utter rubbish to me, after probably a good amount of sleep, but for now, its nicely nagging away in the back of my mind.. or maybe i am just losing my mind. after all what else do u expect from a person whos still awake at 4 in d morning...?
No, i am not a ridiculously early riser, but definitely a ridiculously late sleeper, and no i am not up so late because theres a mouse in my room. Theres not one piece of furniture except for my bed, on which i sit suffering from my insomnia like symptoms, that hasn't been climbed on, scurried upon, sniffed and tested by this inquisitive mouse. I call it inquisitive, and with good reason, because in-spite of innumerable hiding places thanks to amazing amount of clutter in my room, it has decided to make me an audience to it's athletic abilities. This mouse is certainly one of the most boldest ones that i have ever encountered, not that i have encountered many.
Its curiousness has made me curious about it. While it sits on the highest point of its mountain (that would be d couch with its multitude of bags and trash) with an unpredictable terrain, sniffing around for better vantage points, i am quite simply captivated by it, enough to start writing about it.
But then my over-active brain is not happy with just documenting this incident. I realized theres a theory to this behavior. We are drawn to any individual who behaves differently than predicted. I expect all mice to be tiny, meek and fearful of anything with a larger mass than them. But when one lone mouse decides to act differently than this expectation of mine, i unknowingly am drawn to its movements and continue watching it.
Similarly if a person, whom we interact with on daily basis, decides to suddenly start drinking tea instead of coffee, we notice it. We might not comment on it or voice our reaction, but we certainly notice it. Why do we do that ? why do we expect every individual to behave the same for the rest of their lives...?
this theory might be utter rubbish to me, after probably a good amount of sleep, but for now, its nicely nagging away in the back of my mind.. or maybe i am just losing my mind. after all what else do u expect from a person whos still awake at 4 in d morning...?
Sunday, January 9, 2011
oh...to write..!
I wish i could write regularly. I love to write.... i think. To transform my thoughts and imagination into words and watch them fill a page to express my world into something tangible is nothing sort of watching a magic trick being revealed. Something that makes me go, "Oh..! even i can do it". But when i sit down with the specific purpose of writing, its as if my brain turns on a defense mechanism to that singular purpose and i forget all my thoughts that i had so dearly wanted to see and not just feel. Its being tongue-tied in a mental sense...i guess.
I see my friends, people whose blogs i read sometimes and others whom i envy for their literary talents in being able to do something so effortlessly, while i go crazy even to think about being able to accomplish it. Its as if, i am the only dumb kid in class, and i dont have a clue why i get to wear the dunce hat every time.
Then again, maybe just wanting to be able to write isnt enough. maybe to some people like me, it requires us to exercise our brain in order to churn out those passages from our heart, to be feasted later on by our eyes...
I see my friends, people whose blogs i read sometimes and others whom i envy for their literary talents in being able to do something so effortlessly, while i go crazy even to think about being able to accomplish it. Its as if, i am the only dumb kid in class, and i dont have a clue why i get to wear the dunce hat every time.
Then again, maybe just wanting to be able to write isnt enough. maybe to some people like me, it requires us to exercise our brain in order to churn out those passages from our heart, to be feasted later on by our eyes...
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