Will This Blog Post Be An Interesting Read?

How many times in the world do we walk around and feel people's eyes on us and make us doubt our own self?

Am I wearing the right clothes?

Am I too short?

Will this shirt make me look thin?

What will people say if I do this that way?

(The space here is too short to include others, but you get the hint!)

It happens to everyone- the little 5-yr old girl whose shoes should be of the precise pink color to match her clothes else her classmates would laugh at her, the lover who changes his/her tastes to accommodate his/her beloved’s choices as she/he threatens to leave, the distinguished celebrity desperate to get into the headlines else he won’t be popular.

The bottom line is opinions matter. My question: Why do they?

Well, the answer is simple- because WE let them.

We let the stares and the whispers affect our inner-self. We doubt our own choices and opinions only because others do not agree with our perceptions. It’s so intense that we end up torturing ourselves in the pursuit of perfection. We want the world to have an opinion of us which is surreal- miles away from the actual truth. We do not want to get “judged”. We don’t want to end up in the bad category. In anyone’s list of “People I Admire”, we want our names to be present with all the glory. It’s a different story that we ourselves do not admire our own being!

Being true to our own self is all that should matter. Screw the world and its opinions, it is me who matters! That should be the motto. We should not owe anyone any sort of explanation as far as the choices we’ve made are concerned. The hesitation to attempt to innovate should not exist just because people ridicule us.

“Change” is inevitable. True. But if the change is degrading your mind and corrupting your thoughts, what’s the use of its existence? Change is beneficial till a limit. After that limit, it becomes a compulsion- a task; a liability. In the process of making sure we are not “judged”, we change continuously and end up lying to our own self. The “people” are out there to judge us. People want us to change as per their convenience and it’s our job to be fair to our own self, respect what we are and stand tall!

If you don’t like how you are yourself, you are in no position to expect others to like what you are! You judge your own self, and so instead of objecting to what you are, object to others ridiculous demands and be what you want YOU to be!

For All She Wants...

Too many summits tempt her eyes,

Yet she stands strong, as cold as ice;

There are times when she gives up,

There are nights when she cries,

But the peak haunts her thoughts,

It's where her heart lies.

The only success, the only target,

For which she'll die or do,

I pray, as hard as I can, to the powers all around, 

This time let her get through.

Winners Losers

Nothing matters:

For the time we win

Nothing Attracts,

Our natural instincts

We want it all, 

No loss, no draw.

But when we lose a chance,

We hope, we pray,

We beg, we say:

Lets go back in time,

And look around,

Enjoy, Relax,

Appreciate it all,

But life's like that:

There's no turning back.

Fame Laments

I wonder why,

Everyone is running:

Running away to someplace,

They can’t even see.

Some run with a reason,

They can feel.

Others do it,

Just because their souls are not free.

They all keep running to me.

Blinded emotions run through their veins;

Choices, satisfaction tossed in the air;

When the cloud comes up, they have lost their way.

I am somewhere else-far far away;

The realization strikes a little too late.

Un Sourire

I feel crushed-
Like ice in margarita
I feel light-
Like a feather in the sky
When she walks by
The whole world is a blur
It’s her I see
When I look anywhere
I can look at her and not feel pain,
Or thirst, Or hunger
She is a drug
God I am so addicted to her!
She walks like a dream,
She smiles like a child;
Her hair, her face,
I am so crazy about her eyes.

But my heart craves for the time she cries:
When her world is blue
When her times are low
Coz that’s the time I get to do
What I love the most,
What I know only I can do;
Get her lips to smile again,
Make her laugh like the rain,
Make her jump with joy,
And sing like a crazy bird,
As her world gets its colours back

And when she looks at me with those big innocent eyes,
Her lips don’t move
Yet I hear what she says:
You know you're the one
To whom I’ll turn
When happy, when crazy,
When my world rocks;
But you're the only one
Whom I'll run to,
When I am blue,
To pick me up from the darkness around,
And make me smile;

When I see that little smile,
Winning against her tears,
I could embrace death that very instant
Coz it’s the most beautiful sight:
In the world, In the universe;
And the only reason it exists,
The only reason she smiles again,
Is me.

Boulevard of Uncertain Dreams

Walking down the streets of Alang, I had a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. Though I went on enjoying the majestic sight of the glorious ships and the dusty yet intense lanes of the town, there was something that kept hitting my thoughts. It had been two weeks since I came back home and I could not come up with any diagnosis to my problem. That was till today. I finally drew a conclusion as to why my usually inactive mind was so busy thinking.

The thing is, Alang has had a huge impact on my mind - the ships, the old machinery, the used furniture, and the dirt covered labourers – everything dull and boring, yet in some complex way, interesting and attractive. I don’t make a lot of sense here, do I? Let’s roll it from the top.

Alang is a ship-recycling/breaking yard, around 50 km from the city of Bhavnagar in Gujarat, India. It’s not only just any ship-breaking yard, but one of the biggest ones in the world. Ships from all over the world are taken here and, well, put to rest. In short, when you go there, the first sight you’ll behold is that of gigantic ships being chopped off. At first, you’ll take some time in getting over how huge these ships are when they are not partially submerged in water. And then, you’ll be awestruck by the kind of work the people there do. Yet another thing, it’s not one or two ships, but hundreds of them standing at the beach being drilled and cut to pieces.

After getting over the realization of how tiny I am (seriously!), I started opening up to the sights and sounds that surrounded the ships. From the main street from where we could see the ships, we moved to a lane that housed various shops and warehouses. The female gene in me started jumping at the prospect of shopping! I was told that these shops sold stuff that was taken out from the ships -chairs, carpets, cutlery, curtains, sheets, washing machine, dishwasher etc. You name it and it is there. So after a lot of walking, we finally went in a store that had cutlery.

And that’s when it started. I stepped in and was lost. All around the store, there were cups, glasses, saucers, bowls, plates, jugs, wine glasses placed in a number of racks. Each one of them had some sort of seal on them. There was one with a big S on it, another one with a logo. Few of them had dates printed on them. Some were fresh, some were chipped. Some were in sets; some were the only pieces left. There was nothing extraordinary about any of them-thick white china with a logo. Yet in some way, they pulled me towards them.

My thoughts were immediately taken back to my childhood, when at school we were asked to write essays and biographies on some inanimate object. It would be a coin or an umbrella or a car. I remembered that I used to make sure I wrote a sentimental story, where the coin/umbrella/car in question would be lying in a junkyard somewhere, yearning for its past life. It always got me the best marks!

Looking at this store, I could feel each and every item calling out to me, reminding me of every biography I wrote. Each one of these item had had a dream life. They were created for ships and the people who travelled in them. They had travelled to innumerable places. And yet, where are they today? In some dingy shop on the suburbs of a ship breaking yard. They started with hopes and dreams and ended up as useless trash. Of course, the lucky ones out of these would be bought again by hotels and restaurants but what about the others? Should they give up?

Why was my mind thinking about this? Well, somewhere in the whole trip my mind found a link between the plates in the store and life. Just like the plates and the cups, life starts out with hopes and dreams. It starts with a purpose and a goal. For some these dreams are fulfilled, for others, let’s just say, they are stacked up on a rack somewhere. They may get lucky, they may not. But should they give up dreaming altogether? Before I had the honour of meeting the ship stuff, I would not be sure of my answer. But now, my answer is no. It’s because while at the store, I lifted up a chipped glass and I could see it sparkle against the light, without giving up, ready to serve once again if given a chance. And I guess life should be like that. Even if we are down and low we should not give up: we should be ready to do what is expected of us at any instant. Just like the glass.

Well dear glass, and your interesting companions, this one is for all of you. I hope you guys make it big some day. Till then keep hoping, keep sparkling!