The strongest emotion of all

 

 

I know someone who killed themselves
Not one, but quite a few
What terrible chances in their life
Did they so depressingly rue
That celebrity, who made you laugh
That friend, who joked, you thought
That unexpected person next door
Wonder what against he fought
What horrible demons did
Each of them everyday slew
I know someone who killed themselves
Not one, but quite a few

Loneliness sometimes hits hard. It often follows periods of frustration. Most likely when you are worried about things not happening your way. That’s when you get all philosophical. You ponder about the purpose of your life. You don’t see any. We all are going to die one day, why not now then? Endless failures look to cripple you. And more often than not you seem to be chasing the success that conveniently seems to elude you. You may have thought about it. Maybe not as dramatically as holding a kitchen knife to your wrist but you wonder just the same. What it is to slash open your wrist? To hang yourself from the ceiling fan? To jump from a tall building? To electrocute yourself in the bath? To lie down on the railway track? To gulp an uncharacteristic amount of sleeping pills? The methods are endless. The internet a handy source, the television a gateway into easy life-taking lessons. But most of us stop right there. Because we still, maybe deep down, but we still believe that better days are around the corner. And they are.

Just before the darkness swallows us whole, that tiny ray of light pulls us into the sunshine. We realize we are lucky. We are surrounded by our loved ones. That each failure was just a stepping stone to success. And we thank god for everything that is still ours. That time must have robbed us of countless possessions but it still spared us a few. We rue about all our dreams not getting fulfilled but aren’t we glad all our nightmares have not materialized either? Truth is for most of us, even when our life is staring down at the end of the barrel, we find in ourselves the strength to get back on our feet. Easier said than done, perhaps, but it comes to pass.

Now imagine all the darkest times in your life? When you have felt lonely even when loved ones surround you? Remember the scary moments and imagine being stuck in them for what seems like an eon. What is it to stare right in the face of the tiny ray of hope but yet being blind to the light on the other side? What is it to be enveloped in the arms of a loved one but not feeling the emotion? What is it to listen to the soothing words of encouragement whispered into the ear yet not being able to hear them? What it is to be perpetually frightened of our own shadow?

We read in books, we watch in movies and for ages we have been hearing that Love is the strongest emotion of all. We have experienced it in form of gentle scolding from our father, from the warm embrace of our mother, from the naughty smile of our child, from the friendly banter with our siblings, from the mock laughter of our friends, from the affectionate glance of our spouse. We cannot imagine a world in which they don’t exist. But we dread a world in which they do exist yet are unable to reach out to us.

We brand them cowards. Suicide, did you say? Why did he/she do it? They had so much to live for? Did not even think about his/her parents? kids? friends? family? We opine that lack of courage drives them to such an extreme step. But in reality, damn if it isn’t the most courageous thing you have heard of! What kind of exceptional strength does it take to denigrate our own life? When we come out of our occasional mood swings, we realize how trivial our problems actually were. It is only when we observe our life from a third person point of view, the silliness of our (in)action sinks in. But what if we ever lose the ability to observe it?

We are literate enough to know how a mental illness can be severely debilitating than a physical one. How stress and tension corrodes the body and mind. How significantly our psychological state can affect even the ones around us. How fleeting life really is. Did you now the pretty young girl, who used to stay around the corner, she did it! Did you know the smiling grandpa, who lived two stories below, he did it! Did you know the mischievous kid, who used to wave at you from across the park, he did it! We all have to sink into the oblivion one day but what if some around us have already sunk so low while alive that there seems to be absolutely no difference between life and death for them? Is depression the strongest emotion of all?

 

(If you find yourselves in a hopeless situation or you know someone who might be suffering from depression, don’t hesitate to get help. Talk it out. Don’t keep it bottled inside. There a lot of NGOs and help centers. If you don’t prefer them, reach out to a trusted friend. Remember, while taking your own life, in the process, you are destroying those of your loved ones too)

Roommates from Hell

“Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I’m not sure about the universe.”

                                                                                                                                                                                                -Albert Einstein 

I am sure you have read my blog post over a year ago – The roommate from Dumb-land, about the most stupidest girl I ever met. I was new then, just a couple of months away from home, still new to the concept of how idiotic people can be. But now, believe me…….after staying away from home for over 18 months, the number of colourful characters that I have met has just hit the roof. When Dumb roomie No. 1 left, I thought there would be no one who could match the amount of absurdity she displayed. I was so wrong. Since then, I have had to deal with people who have driven me to the edge of insanity.

Well let me begin with the ‘Super Geek’. I have literally never in my life seen someone studying so much. Never remember her being without a book ever. All she used to do is sit on her bed and study. When I used to open my eyes in the morning, she would be studying. Even while sleeping, the last image I used to see before closing my eyes was her lean frame bent over a book that probably weighed more than her. She used whip out a book from the bag, the moment she entered the room.I will be genuinely surprised if she doesn’t end up a CEO of some big-shot company!

Then came the ‘Slow One’. Everything she did was a zillion times slower. for example, she used to take nearly 20 mins just to get food on her plate. How much time went in consuming it, don’t ask. I used to feel sleepy even by looking at her. I could complete a leisurely power nap in the pause between the sentences she spoke. I swear I have seen turtles who are faster than her.

She was followed by one I call ‘The Skeleton‘. If you are thinking the name represents her physical appearance, you are not entirely wrong but it was much more than that. Picture this: You are lying on your bed. It is past midnight. Only a dim zero watt bulb is shining. You are not able to sleep so you decide to watch a movie on your phablet. Suddenly you hear a sound that makes you look up…..and…you see all horror in the world. I find her sitting on her bed, staring at me with big red eyes, laughing, moving her head sideways and singing a sentence over and over again in a language I did not understand. Her back is bent, her arms and legs twisted at an awkward angle (would have even put ‘Linda Blair of The Exorcist’ fame to shame). It did not take even a second for me to run out of the room and bang on my neighbour’s door. After accumulating all the courage I could gather I returned back to my room only to witness this scary spectacle twice more in the same night. Needless to say I spent the entire night sitting on my bed, too scared to even lie down and (believe it or not) chanting the Hanuman chalisa (A Hindu devotional hymn) over and over again! Whether she was actually possessed I know not. Although I am surprised I didn’t went running down the road to the local church and demanding the priest to perform an exorcism.

Thankfully my ordeal lasted only for 2 days. I had sufficiently spooked my landlady to show this girl the door. I was now hoping for some normal person to come to stay. But instead I got ‘The Question Mark'(Miss QM)! The name says it all. She painfully reminds of Dumb Roomie No. 1 from the original post….Only she is a 1000 times worse. The day she came to stay, she began unpacking her stuff at 10 pm in the night and then proceeded to show me every single item she took out of the bag followed by the question, ‘Where shall I keep this?’ EVERY SINGLE ITEM (you all are sane enough to know what that might include). Imagine being shown about 50-60 random things in quick succession accompanied by an annoyingly shrill voice. All this because, she has never stayed away from home and does not know where stuff goes. (Has she ever heard of something called Shelf or a Cupboard? I doubt).

 

She is also apparently obsessed with hair – What shampoo do you use? What conditioner do you use? What hair oil do you use? Why are your hair so silky? What hair-cut is this? How do you make your hair grow? (WTF). Luckily I am not the only one who suffers. She asks this question to every girl in the building. She even asks me how much each of my things costs and proceeds to make a not of them in her book. Like, how much does your phone cost? How much do your iPod cost? How much does your laptop cost? 

Then, her knowledge about facts is even more bizarre. For example, she thinks Sherlock Holmes was created by Agatha Christie! (Sir Arthur Conan Doyle must be laughing his ass off in the writer’s heaven). Explaining cricket to an American or a person who has spent his entire life in Antarctica, would be more easier than explaining it to her. Or for that matter, any sport.

Every morning and night, she learns multiplication tables! Yep, you read that right! It begins with 2 times 1 is 2, 2 times 2 is 4, 2 times 3 is 6. So on and so forth. And by the way, she is 24 not 8! (Girl, what the heck where you doing in the first grade??)

I could go on and on but my depleted brain cells do not allow too much stress these days. In last 18 months, I have had 10 different roommates and apart from a couple of genuinely sensible ones, the others have all been bimbos. Like literally. I will end this blog with the explanation Miss. QM gives for her short height:-

(In her own words): “You know why height is short? When I was young, I was very very fat. Even my parents used to make fun of me. So, I began dieting from age 10. I began eating less and less food. So my body did not get any nutrients and my height never increased.”

Congratulations ECB, Transformation complete!

 

Dear ECB,

 

Kevin Pietersen axed – not exactly my choice of words to sleep on. No sooner did this sentence flashed on my phone (at midnight India time), the first words that came out of my mouth were ‘WTF’.

Frankly, at the risk of being called rude and uncouth, I so desperately want to shower you guys with some of the choicest cuss words I have learnt over the years. Although I think I am being too gracious, surely you are not blind to the gravity of this mistake situation. My twitter is already in a state of meltdown!

I am trying to word this letter delicately, of course. I remember writing about KP a couple of years back. I have always believed people to be cloaked in shades of grey. There are no extremes of black or white; people cannot be entirely good or entirely bad. We all are mortal, we all make mistakes, we all lie. Yet, I do not know, how people around us find within themselves the will to love us back.

The world is changing, no longer do we chase illusions of perfection. Our icons are flawed. We learn to love their faults as much as their genius, their fears as well as their courage. No longer do we measure a person’s worth with a moral compass. We see glimpses of ourselves in their being and take inspiration from the fact that these people are as ordinary as us. That they have risen from an equally mediocre background like us and then went on to achieve extra-ordinary heights.

I know KP is brash and he says exactly what is on his mind. No, he isn’t the sensitive bloke and he isn’t going to sugar-coat his words for you. Yeah, he isn’t a team player, he is audacious, a bit of cock, so what? I don’t see any of you guys resonating any feeling of good-will among the ‘small 7’, those who you ditched to be a part of the ‘elite big 3’.

It is a kind of contradiction, a hypocrisy when you yourself are one of BCCI’s chamchas‘, err….their paid lackeys. And now you so diligently want to ‘change’ English cricket. Do you know, ‘Change’ can be defined in many ways? Change does not necessarily mean letting your best player go. Change does not mean crippling your team and throwing them into chaos. And change definitely does not mean persisting with that stone-age attitude of yours.

I do not know what you will to achieve by letting KP go that was otherwise impossible with him remaining back. It is more appropriate to look at England’s loss in the recently concluded Ashes as a collective failure rather than a one-man weakness.

For most part of the winter, I pitied you guys; leaving aside the fact that you are arrogant and basically a bunch a fools. The world sympathized when Trott left mid-way. Even the ones not so fond of him were sorry to see his mental breakdown. The world then got divided over Swann’s retirement. Although, most that I know expressed a good deal of undisguised disgust over his abrupt departure. As if the on-field drama during your overseas stay was not enough, tempers flared in the dressing room. So, the first thing that you guys did when everyone was back home was to sack ask Andy Flower to step down.

The much-publicised disharmony between Flower and KP would have deluded one into believing that it was a ploy to make sure KP remains. But his disintegration has now given fodder for what could be made into an Oscar/BAFTA classic if only you are willing to give Martin Scorsese or Quentin Tarantino the low down on the ugliness that breeds within.

I can begin to tell you how much people hate you, your own a majority of them. But my complaints, like that of several others, are going to fall on deaf ears. As an Indian, I already belong to a country with the most hated cricket board and a genuinely respected captain. As much as my own board president disgusts me, you licking the BCCI’s boots along with your pal CA, almost makes me pray over your…err…gullibility? priggishness?

‘Team philosophy and work ethics’ are just big words to be thrown around if you do not understand what they actual mean. How can you blame your shambolic performance on one man, your most successful player in years actually. He is brash and dynamic, so much so, that such an extensive team as yours is unable to handle one player? Do you even know how childish that sounds?

We spend our entire lives trying to live upto the expectations of others. Directly or indirectly seeking approval for our actions from people, who in reality, are caught in the vortex of their own insecurities. We label those who make an attempt to rise above this solemn circle. We crush them, grind them, and over the years render them utterly helpless to fight back. We have the power, we misuse it – as simple as that. 

Is accepting mistakes that hard? Is pride a better asset than a player? KP’s story is that of a rockstar – of fame, of controversies, of mistrust. Rockstars who ultimately wither away in loneliness of utter depression due to their obnoxiousness. Of reaching so high, that a fall is eminent.

KP has fallen too. However, he has fallen to rise in our eyes. He has fallen to stand tall. As much as we have loved to hate him and regarded him with such fierce intensity that we were forced to love him back, we stand by him now. Yeah he is a egoistic prick but we (still) stand by him.

Sadly, you, on the other hand, have chosen to fall like a tantrum-throwing kid. Go on, grace us with some fancy words to justify your decision. Oh, you will get your team alright! There is no dearth of talent in your country. Heck, you even know how to import players from other nations. So you will get there…may be not immediately but eventually. What then?

 

How fickle are the ones who hold the reins of this game’s future…how fleeting are the moments of sanity in its’ management. From Arrogant –> Over-Confident –> Scared shitless —> Defiant —> Stupid….Congratulations ECB, your transformation has been complete.

~ A disgruntled fan

The roommate from Dumb-land

Bad to worse

I am all for stupid and dumb. I sincerely believe these people improve the quality of life and enrich the world with their presence. I, myself have been called a dumb blonde on several occasions on twitter by people who possess the sense of humour of a wet sponge and unable to gauge the difference between a sarcastic comment and an actual one.

I know people usually have a problem with their roommates on the factor of cleanliness and believe me, I was the one that believed that yes, it is indeed the worst possible difficulty to deal with….until I came across ‘dumbness’, which let me assure you drives me up against the wall at all times.

On the exterior, if I say my roommate is calm and sweet…..I would, definitely be lying because she is not. And every day I have to listen to the gyaan that can pretty much confound even the best of scientists and give scholars of the world a heart-attack. For example, Did you know that ‘Calcium is the deficiency of protein‘? Yes, this is only the beginning of what I am subjected to. And my years of scientific education suffers a massive blow.

Then she proceeds to tell me that Testicular cancer affects women! I seriously doubt her anatomy at this point and begin researching articles on google of whether any science teacher from her home-town has committed suicide in the recent past.

If that was not enough, I am told that looking your face in the mirror at night and in the morning can lead to it’s disfigurement, which has made me write ‘mask’ as the number one commodity I am supposed to buy in the list of items I have compiled for weekend shopping. I mean seriously, if people consider me cute now….I must be extra-ordinarily stunning 25 years back but ruined my face over the years as I continued looking in the mirror.

If you thought the statements she makes are tolerable, wait till you hear the questions she asks. And every time when she does indeed opens her loud mouth to ask, I silently curse God for giving me the self-restraint that makes me impossible to strangle her and shut her up. So with a brave smile on my face & my evil heart planning her downfall, I listen in mock attention as she asks my advice on matters which even 6 year olds will consider stupid.

Should I drink milk first or have breakfast first? – A question on which she ponders for a minimum of 50 minutes and asks me 5 times, after which she proceeds to call her mom, dad, uncles, aunts and grandparents as the family together tries to solve this perplexing mystery that has chided humanity for ages. At this point, I am certain – stupidity indeed does run in the family.

If the entire family finally reaches the consensus of having milk first, I get asked another question – How many tablespoons of Bournvita should I add to the milk? I tell ‘One’ and then proceed to tell her of how more than one tablespoon of Bournvita can cause mental retardation in the long run. This answer is greeted by genuine horror on her face. (I cackle with laughter inside over a small victory, which in reality is very short-lived).

She claims she follows cricket but has absolutely no idea who Shikhar Dhawan or Sir Jadeja is. She has never heard of Dilshan and Jayawardene, thinks Vettori still leads the Kiwis and when I talk about Cook, she actually believes he is some real cook that travels with the English team to cook their meals (Haven’t told her about Buttler or Broad yet).

I swear my brain-cells commit mass-suicide every day and my grey matter is depleting at an alarming rate. By the end of this year, I will only need to color my hair yellow to suit the part of a dumb blonde. Each time I enter the house, I dread the statement/question that will rob my brain cells of their innocence and take me one step closer to becoming an imbecile. I cover my ears with ear-phones to listen to songs as I cower in fear of getting attacked by this barrage of nonsense. But morons have been granted the super-power as her obnoxiously loud voice filters in asking me whether she can put glue on her laptop to make it stick to the laptop stand as she doesn’t like to remove it everyday. My eyes un-focused and quite resembling to that of a murderer continue to stare ahead pretending not to hear. My teeth grind in frustration and my hands curl up in fists waiting to deliver the sucker punch.

Pray for me fellow internet addicts, as I fight for my sanity…..every day, every hour, every minute…..until I am asked just like now even when I am writing this down – What happens to people born on February 29th? Do get they get stuck on being one-year olds until four years past? (FacePalm).

Note: This post is neither made-up nor make-believe. By the end of this year when I finally start tweeting/blogging/facebooking such equally idiotic rubbish, it will be proved. I have very little time left….until then, all I can say is – Did you know that the fruit orange was actually named after the color orange and they refused to name apples red because they come in green too and…..hmmmmm…shucks…I forgot, what she said about the watermelons……

NEVER LET THEM DIE

(Dreams – Only being on the brink of fulfilling one, isn’t enough! They must be nurtured & allowed to grow, they must be fed & watered to give a meaning to life. It is a constant struggle to achieve them, and there will be so many to spoil the party. People who aren’t gracious enough to accept your genius, insecure ones who  will try everything to watch you fail miserably. Fight them. Fight for what you believe in. Dreams do come true, so make an effort to turn them into something so beautiful that the world takes notice & gives your talent the respect it deserves…)

 

She sits by the window sill, staring into the space

A turmoil raging inside her, shadowed by the calmness of her face

She gathers all her wits with might, to allow herself a smile

A true genuine happiness, that had been missing for a while.

A dream she thought was impossible, an unbelievable wish, you see

Of a door she locked long ago and threw away the key

 

In an desperate attempt to fit in, she had compromised her life

Resigned to a monotony of usual existence & an everyday stressful strife

But, struggle molded her to the strong person what she is now

The hard-work all paid off, she still doesn’t know how

 

She knows not now a care in the world

Her life has just begun

Expectations that will soon dwarf even the moon & the sun

Laughter & smiles & everything nice, no tears left to cry

With new hope & new life, she will soon give a confident try

 

Though still with melancholy does sorrow shades her face

When people shatter her dreams & forgo all the grace

True smiles are pretty few & indifference plenty to show

How she doesn’t deserve the honor that life did bestow

 

She longs for for words of encouragement & lots of love and hope

Instead, aloofness & uncertainty is with what she is left to cope

With low self-esteem & still carrying, a burden of frustration inside

The gap between her confidence & beliefs, keeps on growing wide

Discouraged & disturbed, the stress builds up on her mind

So much that she sometimes wishes, to put life on rewind

 

Whats scary is  that she longs for, the usual normal ways

Long, boring, dull & stupid, yesteryear days

An uncharacteristic existence, of rats running through a maze

To be one among millions & drown in the common daze.

Whats scary is that she almost wishes

to settle for much less than she deserves

Her talents long forgotten.

Her genius in reserves…

 

Just standing at an open door of opportunity, is not going to get her far

Now the real fight begins, when she battles with the hour

Endures all discouragement & still manages to hold her hope

Secure all her ambitions tightly, with a sturdy rope

 

True genius doesn’t hide, it rises against all will

Even when cynical predators, move in to make their kill

With self-doubt cast aside, she accepts her uncertain fate

To stick to what is right & bide time to patiently wait

 

She gathers strength in her tiny limbs

And prepares for the final flight

Even when they tie her legs

And set her wings alight

She just soars straight high

To burn the never-ending sky

To not give up & believe in her dreams

AND NEVER LET THEM DIE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No Heroes or Villains, Only Mortal Men cloaked in Grey…

I sit with “It’s not about the bike” in my right hand, with my left one wrapped tightly over a recently read copy of “Every second counts”. I frown as I keep turning both the books and see the man on both covers; he is smiling. I am not.

I sit thinking, deeply disturbed about the USADA’s decision to strip Lance Armstrong (follow @lancearmstrong) of his 7 Tour de France titles and ban him for life. And why shouldn’t it be disturbing? It’s not easy seeing the man you admire caught up in a controversy that embarrassing. It breaks my heart. This is not how I want to see my hero – frustrated, tired & finally giving up without a fight! He refused to give in to cancer, then why the hell is he refusing to fight now? Some, feel for him. Others think, his refusal to contest against the USADA’s decision is a testimony of his guilt. By now, in 2 days, you might have seen several of these stories doing rounds. The world is understandably divided. Fans are supporting him, critics are demeaning him while others on the sideline are just going with the flow. I don’t know whether Lance Armstrong is guilty or not. It’s a question that will be best answered by him. People might speculate a thousand things but in the end what we feel for him in our hearts is not going to change. Can you erase the memories of all the times he won those titles? Can you erase those smiles he put on peoples’ faces? Can you erase every word you read from his books? And can you forget what his foundation Livestrong represents?

This isn’t a stigma on a normal sportsperson. It is a stigma on a hero, on the sport and above all on the rosy picture we create around ourselves. So, suddenly, is Lance Armstrong the villain now? The cheat, The bad egg, The liar?

You have seen this cricket’s bad boy number of times. But as all bad boys, there is something irresistibly sexy about him – the tattooed arms, lean body, messy haircut and smoldering hot attitude. And although he would not be the guy you would normally like to bring home to meet your parents; he certainly is the one for late night bike rides. Kevin Pietersen (follow @kevinpp4) is all that and much more. Lately, he has been under a lot of flak from the ECB, team-mates, coaches for sending smses to his South African counterparts. Makes you wonder, since when did sending smses became such an unpardonable crime.

2011 was the year of the English cricket team. They created records, topped rankings, won cups and Pietersen had a large role to play in England’s rise. In the recent series against South Africa, England lost and had to give up their “No.1 team” title. However, that didn’t discourage them from sending KP packing off in wake of the final test. England lost, as expected. The one dayers’ also are not their best bet. South Africa just have to win one match to topple the rankings once more. And so they will, as expected. And although, England does have a lot of quality players in their side, it will be a miracle if they are able to defend the T20 Championship title next month.

Some say, KP’s career is over. Some say, he still has an outside chance. Some say, the ECB will keep him out of the team long enough to teach him a lesson & then take him back. But, who is an expert on the English pride? KP did make a sincere video apologizing for his behavior. But, bad boys never look the part of a “meek apologizer”. Who would expect that of them? For the authoritarian English people, this certainly must have sounded hollow & phony. It is difficult being a bad boy!

From purely cricketing point-of-view, keeping all the moralities aside, you would be a fool if you don’t admit the fact that when you have seen Mr. Kevin Pietersen batting, you have seen one of the best batsmen batting on the current international scene. As a fan, this fiasco deeply saddens me again. There will always be this looming dread that we might never see KP bat again for England. (Thanking IPL at this point). KP’s switch-hit – it became a rage earlier this year in IPL, KP’s sixes – something to die for, KP’s effortless batting – a treat to watch. The way he carries his 6 foot 4 inches frame, proudly flaunting his biceps, that cool look on his face, that cocky ‘too-sure’ attitude suits him perfectly right down to the confident swagger of his walk. You never want to be on the opposite team when KP’s batting. You just want to gaze from afar and be mesmerized. A hero or a villain? A hooligan, you say…

Two larger than life Heroes. People I have looked up to. For different reasons, yet for the same purpose – inspiration!

Even if you keep the cancer part apart, Lance Armstrong’s story in itself is a perfect storybook material. An ordinary boy with extra-ordinary talent went on to win 7 Tour de France titles and became the master of cycling. You come across thousands of such examples. People from a humble background making it big on the basis of their unquestionable determination and talent.

Now add to it the fact that, here was a guy who got testicular cancer that had metastasized to his brain & lungs at the young age of 25, he fought it, emerged victorious, came back to race again and win Tour de France. With this, the story has the making of an international bestseller. It is a story that makes you cry, that makes you smile, a story that tells you hope’s never lost. A story that gets etched on you brain and on your heart without any extra effort.

Cancer is not only a disease, it is also a curse. A curse so profound that it drags the person suffering from it to the depths of hell, while still alive. A curse so profound, that it condemns not only the unfortunate person, but also his or her loved ones as well. Cancer attacks one person, but destroys families! Still, many people fight it and survive. But Lance Armstrong was your no ordinary survivor, he was a ‘winner’ – through & through. His foundation – Livestrong today inspires and uplifts so many cancer affected people. In him, we found a hero who was much worthy of genuine accolades & love than the mere on-screen ones.

KP’s story still does not have a concrete ending. It is left to hang in uncertainly, poised in between unsure & undecided. A South African who felt intimidated by the quota system back home, migrated to England and earned a place in the national squad. Relinquished captaincy for a short while, faced critics audaciously, yet never compromised his game. Who cares if KP is not a team player? Who cares what he is as a person? One thing is true, what he is – is right there out in the front. No pretenses! He doesn’t wear those fake masks. Do you believe every other person in the English dressing room is a saint of magnanimous proportions? Or for that matter – are all players currently playing the game, crusaders of kindness, virtue & morality?

There are so many good players all over the world today. But, KP is something that only a few of them are – Entertaining!!! His batting can best be summed up as hypnotizing. OK, so we don’t have a hero with the best attitude in the world but we do have one with an attractive reckless streak.

The problem with us is that we always have believed that world could be divided into good and bad, right and wrong, yes and no. We, who are swathed into blankets of everyday frustrations search for heroic figures to look up to. Pure genius they say is something bestowed upon few. God might be generous in squandering talent around but when it comes to giving the brains & a hardworking will to utilize those talents, God is cruelly stingy. So, some of us, who are the unlucky lot look up to the one’s in the lucky lot.

Ever since humanity came into existence, it has taken upon ‘worship’ as it’s ultimate redemption tool. Any person, however conceited needs an idol to look up to. A seemingly perfect figure that serves as a benchmark for attesting self-achievements. A revelation, a motivation, an influence.

But, blind are we to the faults of the ones we deem as great. We do not realize that these people are mortals like us, living breathing mortals who drink & eat to live. When I wrote, Heroes are People too 3 years back, I expressed similar sentiments regarding the unusual predicament common people always find themselves in.

Heroes are people with their own past – none too different from your own. A past; that has regrets, embarrassing situations, mistakes, lies and secrets.

I have a friend who is allergic to eggs. Now you know as a general fact, that eggs are a rich source of proteins. Doctors, health professionals will recommend it as a part of our daily diet. Yet, if a person allergic to them happens to ingest some, they could be life-threatening. Are the eggs bad then???

How do we decide what’s good or bad? Based on the age-old moral values that we have been following all life? How do we know for a fact what is true and what is false? What is right or what is wrong?

Should we condemn Lance Armstrong now if tomorrow he admits his guilt? Should we abhor KP, just because he isn’t a team player?

Will we ever realize that people cannot be divided as Heroes or Villains? Will we ever realize that we cannot categorize every person between two extremes of black or white?

Will we ever realize that the best of men, famous or infamous, are always cloaked in subtle shades of grey…

 

 

(This is a personal account with no intention of causing harm. It is my view on two people that I greatly respect & like. For further insight into my life, I can be followed on twitter here @pillya)

A NEW YEAR’S BEGINNING

(Never say “This can’t happen to me”, ‘coz Life has a funny way of proving us right. We begin the New Year with lots of positive energy and enthusiasm but as the year grows old we succumb to its everyday frustrations & squabbles. We fall prey to the constant depressions and the year we thought to be great, turns out a disaster. Truth is, at any given point of our lives, we are capable of making the required changes & live our lives to the fullest…a change in the day or month or even a year does not make a difference. But, man is so psychologically dependent on external factors that a move like this is justifiable in situations when we are trying to embark on a new beginning…when we are willing to accept change and also willing to make it. When we are willing to overlook the hurts & pains of all yesterdays and willing to face life with all its troubles. When minor wounds don’t matter and the biggest blows just test the level of our endurance….when death is nothing to be afraid of  and life, a dream to live……)

 

I stand in front of the mirror

And see what only I can see

Me, covered with bruises & burns

And wounds that were meant to be

I have been pushed & kicked…stoned & hurt

Yet I try to stand my way

As I support unsteadily my broken body

I know I will be okay

Those are the hurts I suffered for long

Those disappointments that left me sad

The pain that ripped open my heart

Those moments that brought out my bad

And although the moments of happiness are scarce

A smile gets inscribed on my lips

As I count the days of true love & care

They barely cover my fingertips

Our memory is such a fickle friend

It makes us remember the things we’d rather miss

It forces us to see our failings o many

The hell’s poison & the death’s kiss

Yet I am amazed, how I survived the past year

Where from the hell this strength I got?

Why didn’t my trust rot?

Why hope my heart does crave?

Why is it that I only emerged stronger?

How could I be so brave?

How could I have survived this longer?

On the night of the last day of the year

I came to terms with this life

The year that broke me down

The incidents that left me shaken

And the people who made me frown

The love that I lost & never regained

The relationships that I killed

The opportunities I let go off so easily

And never did as I willed

Acceptance is the first step towards freedom they say

As I accept my fate as it is

Forgiveness of thyself is the first right they say

As i forgive myself as it is

The more I accept; the more I forgive

I can see the wounds healing

The bruises slowly vanish away

The scars keep disappearing

My body is regaining its lost vigor

The burns get cold

My innocence takes a steady hold

And as the new year kicks in the trigger

With hope I stare right at the sun

With faith I leap off this train

Chuck all the old baggage of the past

I leave it behind with disdain

I know not what tears will the new year hold

How much more can I contain?

I know not how can my heart patch up

How much more my efforts shall go in vain?

Could I ever hope for true joy?

For someone to unconditionally love

For being the reason for someone’s smile

A relation formed in heavens above

For a day without tension

For dreams to become real

For helping hand to offer

A world so surreal

Yet I don’t have a choice

But to move on

To lead or to follow

Till my time comes

For a single purpose I will to live

To fall & falter

To stumble & to gather

For a single purpose I will to live

I stand in front of the  mirror again

With a clear face & strong body

Is this the person I once knew I think

Or was it else somebody?

And as the new year progresses

This body will get old to see

The strength will seem to be weak

A reflection of broken me

When the first bruise appears

And splits open my heart real bad

As I bleed like crazy

And the blood soaks my skin & bones

My vision turns sad n sad

In a not-so-distant future

When I shall stand like this

To welcome another year

I hope I will have fewer regrets

And few disappointments to bear

The tears would be of happiness

 Of a year that was well spent

Of so much promise for life to come

Of memories that came & went

So hit me life

With all that you have got

I will fight u

Till my last breath

In the setting sun

I will replenish

As with open arms

I welcome death

THE ELUSIVE MILESTONE

Dear Sachin,

In all my excitement, as I woke up on Friday, November 25th, all that I wanted was your 100th ton. Just like billions of others like me…

The way I saw you bat in the morning, not only re-affirmed my devotion for you but also took my breath away. The shots that you hit, the technique that you displayed was flawless and I couldn’t help but admire your genius. But the catch from Sammy, not only stunned Wankhede crowd but also shocked us mortals and we retreated back in our cocoon of everyday frustrations and happenings…

When I got back home later that night, I connected to mycrickethighlights.com, just to have a look at your entire innings and believe me, I was mesmerized. Those 94 runs were like 194 to me at that time. It didn’t matter that it was not converted into a century…It didn’t matter that we still have to wait for your 100th ton….All that mattered was your game….your un-tarnished, unbeatable natural flair….

Sometimes we wonder whether we are true fans. We so desperately want you to hit that elusive ton, yet we do not realize that all this hype is just pointless… 

A person of your stature does not require reaffirmations from us to continue your natural game. For you, milestones have always been secondary to your passion for the game and a chance to serve your motherland. 

It is an undisputed fact that one fine day, you are definitely going to hit that ton and silence your critics and I realize, it really wouldn’t change anything… It won’t change you as a person, or it wouldn’t change our love for you….It would only just add yet another feather to your cap…

Sachin, isn’t our love for you kind of contradictory? We want you to keep on playing as you always do, yet we pressure you with our burden of expectations..

Because after all these years, the only thing we desire is to keep watching you play…whether you hit a 20, a 50, or a 100…..there is pleasure in every boundary you hit and your every six is like an burst of enthusiasm…

The respect that you command is so unparallel, that you are an object of fascination among many. We pray for you, we pray to you and we hold you so close to your hearts that our lives revolve around you..

I remember when you once said in an interview- “I hate losing and cricket being my first love, once I enter the ground it’s a different zone altogether and that hunger for winning is always there.” It not only explains your youthful desire to stick to your love for the game but also the attitude to better yourself with time. I just consider myself lucky to be born in era that serves as a witness to your life.

In hailing you as God, we do satisfy our inner urge to worship yet forget easily that on a basic level, you are human too. You aren’t a machine that we can control to our liking…You cannot hit a century in every match…You are very well going to be bowled out on ducks and failures will be in plenty always….And if it weren’t for those failures, those minor disappointments; we would never have understood our faith in you. What makes us worship you as God, is the likeness we observe in you as a human….something to which we can identify ourselves with and still the difference between us that is a result of  a divine character that you have unknowingly created for yourself.

Stupid news channel and newspaper editors don’t bother me anymore. I do not even consider them worthy enough to get angry on. 

As I spend yet another day going through all their baseless assumptions and accusations in all media (whether in print or audio-visual); I cannot help but feel a kind of hopeless pity on their tiny brains and even more non-existent heart. 

Their public disapproval of you, your genius, your perseverance, your strength just makes a mockery of the pure faith and devotion of billions of us worshipers all  over the world; becoz in this world of deceptions, such purity is an illusionary concept.

As I print these words out, they not only exude my love for you but also echo the sentiments of billions of other fans like me. Fans who, feel like breaking TV sets when you get out early; fans who skip food to get a glimpse of you; fans whose only source of real happiness comes from seeing you bat; fans who have cried rivers with happiness when you finally got your world cup dream…

On the day you hit your 100th ton; see how crazily this same media will carry you on their heads and show your entire lifetime on television…They shall proclaim it as history being created…..Stupid Morons!

What they will not realize is that history was indeed made, long time ago…one fine day in the past…when world came to a standstill, one fleeting moment on April 24th, 1973….

With Respect, Love & Devotion,

A fan you will never know about

THIS TOO SHALL PASS

(Sometimes, no, in fact at every turn life gets difficult and more difficult. You lose focus. You lose hope. You lose yourself. You start to doubt. Your vision clouds and you begin to think that you are good for nothing. You blame your destiny. You mar your luck. You feel helpless and lose self-confidence. You feel like quitting all and going back in a cocoon to shield yourself from the real world. What you do not understand is that you have the power within yourself to fight back. This is just a test. A test to test your inner strength. A test to make you more strong. A test to awaken the potential that even you do not know exists. Quit crying at this moment. It is just a tiny moment in eternity that will cease to exist soon. A change so minute, a difference so small but with implications which will re-shape your entire life….Find yourself….Find a friend…Find a love….In a world that changes shades in every instant you are just a minuscule part of some great plan….Tears that you are shedding now…will mean nothing tomorrow….Tomorrow you will get born in an new eternity….All was and always will be TEMPORARY)

On a lonely rainy night

As I lay on my bed

Thumbing through a copy

Of some book well-read

My thoughts wander towards you

How are you meant to be 

All smiles that you cover yourself with

For others to openly see

I see you from a distance

The false masks that you wear

You may fool others easily

But I am the one who cares

You need to forget these troubles

You need a helping hand

Someone to talk to secretly

Someone who could understand

I see through your charade

I see the inward hurt

I see those unshed tears

And not the mirage that you display overt

Come one, gimme one chance

Let me be the ONE for you

Let me soothe away your pain

I could be a best friend too

Unless you let me help you

How will bring you back?

Unless you trust me

How will I get you on track?

Just stretch your hand forward

I am here to hold it for you

To guide you in this darkness

That has appeared out of blue

The light is within you

Just let me show you the way

The strength that has never left you

The power that’s never away

You are sitting in a corner

When your world is actually round

It all exists in your head

You just need to unbound

I know you have gone through a lot

A lot you sadness you have seen

I know its not easy to get back on your feet

And be as you have always been

I know the world is bad

And it will always drag you back

Throw curses at you at every turn

And let insults stack

I know you hate god at the moment

‘coz your life seems a joke

But, there is still so much more to you

That you are not trying to awoke

I know how it feels like

When life kills you every time

Treats you like an outcast

Treats you like some slime

Don’t listen to the people who taunt you

I know right now they are on top

But someday you’ll show them

That you aren’t some flop

All faith you have abandoned

All hope you have cast

But trust me, the possibilities of finding happiness

Are still so very vast

You think yourself as stupid

‘coz that’s what they make you think

They are pushing you over the edge

Driving you to the brink

But I pity those people

For what they are

I pity their shallow minds

That they have long ago barred

I pity they do not recognize

For what you really are

Naah, I don’t despise them

But, their rules I do mar

NO, you don’t have to be like them

Even now, you are so great

The ideals that you still follow

With not even an ounce of hate

Just have some bit of patience

Some memory to which you can cling

Some joy that fills your heart

A spark or some zing

OR just

Find a heart

One true heart

That will only beat for you

A friend so dear

A companion near

Who shines like morning dew

Find a love

One true love

That will always stand by your side

Your own person

Just one person

With whom your destiny is tied

You need just one person

Just one reason in your life

Just one memory to cope

For all innocence to survive

Come, look through my eyes

Tell me what you see

Yes, that wonderful person is YOU

It’s what you mean to me

Yes, just get up

And stare; blatantly at the world

Show them you can fight back

And make your flag unfurl

The candle flickers brightly

Just before it forever ends

The temptation to quit is high

At the time when trouble transcends

From the night the day is born

From the day, the night does spring

Every end carries the seed

Of the dawn of a new beginning

‘Coz all that’s always left behind

Are shadows of broken glass

No matter what this moment holds for you

Eventually this too shall pass…

FIRST SUMMER SHOWERS

She rolled lazily on her bed…..It had been a long day and a tiring one too. She thought, maybe writing about it will make her feel better. She opened her diary. She couldn’t remember the last time, she had had time to write something in it. She remembered the times when she used to write pages and pages of feelings in her diary. Gone were those days. These days she hardly had time to interact with others, let alone interacting with herself….

But today was different. She needed an outlet to give her frustration a release. She found a blank page and began writing……

FIRST SUMMER SHOWERS – 2011

“I rush through the already drenched streets… the people, the shops, the surroundings appear blurry. I can hardly make out the shapes and colors. I have only been out on the streets for 5 minutes and I am already soaking wet!

This damn rain, I exclaim. It came a week earlier than predicted. I still haven’t extracted my umbrella/raincoat from wherever it is gathering dust from past one year. I might even need some new rain-gear, I think. I bet, it will rain for a few days and stop. Then it will get more hot than usual. It has been a lousy summer. I don’t want more soaring temperatures.

How abominable! Trust, public transport to breakdown right now! Naahh….doesn’t disappoint me. Waiting for some mode of transport to reach home….Oh shucks, I will have to walk home in this downpour! Chaotic streets, water everywhere, mud puddles…ewwww.!! Oh my brand new Levis’. And hell, I paid a fortune for those shoes. My gucci bag!!!! I hope my wallet’s okay. My phone!!!! My iPod!!! Oh god, all my stuff is in mortal danger…..

Rains are such a pain in the neck!!!! Ahhh…finally I see home….Climbing the stairs ….@@@**$%…WTF…..Plunged into darkness! What the hell is this? Power-cut!!! Again??? Haven’t there been enough in the last 2 weeks???    

It has already been an hectic day at the office…..I am soaked to skin…..I am shivering like crazy….My shoes are caked in mud AND NOW, a POWER-CUT!!! Disgusting!

Oh thank god, I could atleast save my phone, my iPod, my money from this mayhem. Phheww! A sigh of relief…I need to take care of those shoes though.

I hate rains! They spell nothing but trouble! Filthy! Dirty! I could even sue them, if that were possible.

I hope I don’t get sick. I cannot afford to miss office. Way too much work, deadlines to meet, peer pressure. How will I bear the huge burden if I lose any more days??? I think I might have a nervous breakdown because of these rains.

God! How much I hate them. RAINS, GET OUT OF MY LIFE!!!!!”

                                                          

She closed the diary, still frustrated. It was such a bleak day, so damn irritating because of the rains. She had showered with hot water, put on clean clothes and lay on her bed writing this out. She neither had the energy nor the wish to talk with her family or anyone else. It was past 23:00 hours and she has a long day ahead tomorrow. Gotta sleep now….

But, sleep was eluding her. She rummaged through her cupboard and found her old diaries. These should be fun to read, she thought. She picked an old one and started flipping through the pages….

Suddenly, a vaguely familiar entry caught her eye. Hmmm…..2006…5 years ago…..Interesting…..It had the same tittle as of her entry today….amused, she began reading…..

FIRST SUMMER SHOWERS – 2006

“I giggled as I sprinted across the streets. All seemed blurry as if my eyes exuded water. Yet, all was colorful. I could make out shapes of people & brightly lit shops. And sooooooooo much green. It seemed like paradise. I glanced at the people rushing around me….eager to get away from the rains…cursing it, fleeing away from it. No way, I could EVER do that! Ha! My laughter, mocked at their stupidity. Oh come on, how can you be so stupid to run away from rains??? The weather’s so cool. Yippee.

I jumped from one puddle to another. This was so much fun.

Trains late? No problem….I get more time to spend with these first showers of the month!

No transport to get home? No problem….Good excuse to give to Mom if she asks why am I so wet!

I don’t care. These are the first showers! For 3 long months, the heat has taunted us, teased us, made us go crazy, kept us sweltering and TODAY, finally, it’s giving us the much needed relief.

I reach home jumping with enthusiasm. Power-cut, Mom says. Oh boy, this will be fun. Fun to eat dinner in candle light. My clothes are so wet, they are sticking to my body. My bag’s a mess. My phone’s working atleast. And the money? Well, I have hardly more than 100 bucks. These will dry out in the sun tomorrow. No harm done. 

Happily, I eat my dinner. I go in my room and sit near the window staring out. I have a book in my lap and a flashlight in one hand. Mom will kill me if she sees me reading like this. But, this is so cool.                                                                                                                                                I sit by the open window….listening to the soft sound of the rain…..it has become a light drizzle now….I smell the pleasant fragrance of the wet mud…wow…I just love rains….”    

She let the diary fall from her hands. It was getting wet. Wet with the tears that cascaded down her cheeks. The sheer joy and innocence of a time not so long ago was being washed away by the tears of frustration that had accumulated in the last few years. She buried her face in her hands and wept. She couldn’t believe that once, she was this innocent girl. A girl who found joy in all little things in life. A girl who “lived” and not just “existed”. A girl who cared more about feelings and emotions rather than gadgets and clothes and money and all material things. She didn’t seem to understand as to how she had come to this point her life.

Dhhhhadammmm…..It thundered. Startled she peered through the window. It was still raining heavily. Probably more heavily than before. She reached out to see, whether the window was securely locked and then suddenly thought….what if…? What if, were this window open? It would flood the room. It would douche my stuff. It would make a mess. Should I (open it), she thought. I am wearing fresh clothes now and how can I afford to get sick, she reasoned. There is so much to do tomorrow, I should probably sleep, she concluded. 

As she turned around, she once again caught sight of the diary still laying on the floor….displaying that old slightly smudged from the tears, entry, made 5 years ago.

Laughing knowingly, she threw the window open and stretched out her arms in a welcoming gesture. As the pure rain drops splashed across her face drenching her, you could see the slight smile forming on her lips. 

As the rain seeped through her clothes into her heart, she felt a genuine calm spreading through her entire body. An eternal bliss embracing her…..peace…..tranquil peace…..Her smile widened as she softly muttered to herself…”I love you Rains…Welcome Back….”