A Biased View

It's been a long, long time. For those of you that noticed, I apologise. I'm promising (acknowledging that I'm risking my credibility) that I will be more regular, and publish posts I'd promised. There will be pictures, and more of who I am, in what again I recognise too much of a rant about myself. Stay tuned, I might just say something to capture your interest. :)

So I've noticed, and I'm sure you have too, how my blog has no real (or maybe way too little) information about me. It's all mostly a collection of vague poems, deep emotions and disturbing recollections. The reason for the exclusion of my life adventures from this blog is not insane paranoia about my private life, but the general lack of happening events that my life presents. Now that I'm on an intern in Canada for the summers, I thought I'd make this blog a little more personal, and let all you (if there are any) people get a glance at what I hope will be a happening and tale-worthy part of my life. Leaving any space is always quite hard. However, this last semester was like an iron club in pendulum motion, and every time I stood up, it hit me back down, periodically. Bashed and beaten by this semester, the approaching date of departure for my intern happened to be a date I wished upon myself faster, and hence as life is generally known to do, came crawling sl...

A newborn me was welcomed by the world not with broad daylight, I came in crying and squealing at the velvety, dark night, As a 5 year old me sat beneath the star-lit sky, crying for a dog, The moon saw my despondent face, and offered me a hug, As the 7 year old me fractured her toe, and couldn't fall asleep, The stars saw me sitting quiet, and didn't let me weep, When 9 year old me won her first prize, and was jumping up and down, The moon and the stars seemed to become the prettiest white crown, When the 11 year old me went adventurous for her first camping event, The dark canopy over my head protected me everywhere I went, When a 15 year old sleepless me felt life wasn't going her way, The darkest night before the dawn, promised a better day, As a 17 year old me sat excited, waiting to be an adult, The sunset and the fall of dark, made my first birthday wishes felt, Now a 20 year old me looks dazed, upon the beauty of the night,...

There was a time when I'd do anything for you, When I'd trade my sleep, just so you slept without jostles, When I'd say anything I could, just to make you smile, When all my air had, were beautiful castles, That was the time when a single smile from you, Was enough to brighten my darkened day, When just to see the light of your face once, My whole life's aspirations at stake I'd lay, Then I felt the change, the cold, don't know if you felt it too, A pull from somewhere a little far, from somewhere between me and you, I went on to hold new hands and make new dreams, Held on, as some old ones came at the seams, But through all of the new as I walked here and there, I kept one thing in my mind throughout, No matter where the pulls of growing up took me, I'd keep you within my sight, without doubt, But for a second when once I looked away, To dream dreams of happiness, of freedom, of beauty, In that second some pull made you disappear, Wa...

Since school days, I have been asked about my favourite hobbies. It always used to be reading, I remember. I used to be engrossed in books, lost in a faraway land, oblivious to the real world around me, hunger, sleep and other such attention-seekers ignored. It was more often than not that my mom would find me sitting in one place, in one attitude for hours at stretch, irritable if disturbed. Books were my drugs and I was badly hooked. To the words, the ideas, the world they painted. I couldn’t get enough.  I'd stay up complete nights, with a torch in hand under my blanket, and solve mysteries with Fatty, Beth and all their friends, or go to school with Darrell, Gwendoline and all of their friends, or visit the Faraway Tree with all it's inhabitants. My birthday gifts were novels and even when not my birthday, most of my purchases were novels. Fiction, non fiction, romance, thriller, mystery- you name it and I’d tried it. Then I came to college and started watc...

Safe in the knowledge, or so it seemed, That things lasted, she happily dreamed, Of the day he'd come back, the day he'd call, Of the day he'd embrace her, and call her his doll, Every birthday of his, she'd make a card, Plaster it on his wall, pristine white paint scarred, Every anniversary of theirs, she'd decorate the house, In the hopes it brought back her long lost spouse. Little did she know, in a village, in a faraway land, Was a prisoner of war, with no right hand, Learning to write with his left, an alphabet a night, For the days brought torture, and his never ending fight, Every birthday of hers, a tree he secretly planted, In the hope that some clean air to her he granted, Every anniversary of theirs, a word more he wrote, In the hope that one day, she'd read all he spoke.

Just one more time, she promises herself, Takes a deep breath and pours it in, I hide myself in the dark shadows, That cover her whole, below the chin. I watch as she slowly loses her senses, Watch as she relinquishes it all, She soon has a smile on her face, As her balance too, takes the fall. Spread eagled as she lies on the floor, Her face and hair messed up so bad, She lets out a small laugh of joy, That says despite it all, she's glad. "I've just found you again, so please don't leave, I again smell that smell I smelt on your sleeve, I can see and feel and touch you again, Oh, and that maddening, excruciating pain, Of you having left, having gone is gone, I feel like my many pieces are again one, I can now see all that I've wanted to see, And we are now what I want us to be, Stay, Oh stay, please say that stay you will, Stay, for I haven't yet had my fill." Hearing her mumble and speak in her dream, I smile, d...

O beautiful stranger, Who are you? Where are you from, And how do you do? You invade my thoughts, Capture my dreams, I can't feel my mind, It's coming at the seams. I feel like I know you, From somewhere before, I've been waiting this long, For your knock on my door. Now that you're here, Sit awhile and stay, Don't leave tonight, Give it another day. Enjoy the sunlight, And the winds that blow, But please let me sleep, Some nights in a row. I don't mind not sleeping, As long as I see you, But when you're out of sight, Stay out of my dreams too. For in those dreams I enter a land, So beautiful and serene, I want to wake up and live, That surreal, outlandish dream. Either give me my dream, Forever to keep, Or give me the power, To forget the dream and sleep.

You walk away slowly, Disappear into the misty snow, The darkness swallows you, I can hardly see you now. I see a hundred thousand things, Instead of the ones I'm supposed to see, I don't know why but all of them, Have some of you and some of me. You swear it isn't the end, You swear it won't change, But I don't know why you only exist, In my diary, on every page. I see you everywhere I go, I see you in the stars, I see you in the water of the pool, I see you in my scars. There is no end to this I see, No end, none at all, Every time I stand I wait for it, That inevitable fall. Every time it all breaks apart, I'll sit and put it back, Because I'll never stop hoping that one day, You'll know you complete all I lack. I hope that we will sit, And talk and laugh and play, And life will suddenly be a blur, Of many a night and day. For a day shall come, When it will all be altered, These will all be milest...

In the way she walks, you can never tell, that she's anything but a modern southern belle, In the way she talks, to her mum and dad, There's nothing at all, not a nuance of sad, In the way she laughs, with her friends at school, There's nothing to suggest anything's troubling her cool, In the way she runs, when she's got nothing to do, There's nothing that says she's aching too, In the way she works, when she's given some, There's a lot of work and a lot of fun, But the way she looks when he passes by, There's a minute difference in how the minutes pass by, She laughs a little longer, smiles a little brighter, Looks more flushed, her mind seems lighter, Her spirit is lifted, her eyes glow, Her speech is faster and her words flow, The way she turns when she hears his name, Has your heart ever felt a flutter? Hers feels the same, The way she looks when she speaks of him, There's little to suggest where her heart has been, The way she smiles w...

They say she’s gone. Then why do I see her, wherever I go? She is in that ‘baithak’ she always sat on. In her table fan, that seems to have given up the will to live, almost like it knows she’s gone. She is in that bedroom she always slept in. She’s in the silence that reigns the house now. She’s in the little flame that is alit beneath her bed. She’s in all the clothes she left behind. She’s in her spectacles and jewellery. She’s in the smell that emanates from her bed and her medicine box. She’s in the books and books she used to read. In the books she wrote in. She’s in the balcony chair she sat in. It has become old. Why did I never feel that she was getting old then? She’s in the little window that was her seat in the evening. She’s in the kitchen and all its drawers. She’s in the special delicacy she made and left behind for me. She made plenty of it, like always. Why does it seem like it’s far too less now? She’s in her favourite TV shows. She’s in the newspapers she will neve...

Teddies, dogs, barbies and dreams, Chocolate, butterscotch, strawberry ice-creams, Fairies and princes in their magical palace, The villains with their black evil malice, School and all its friends, fun and work, Home and in it, Cartoon Network! Building friends and our playground, The broken tooth that was never found, New clothes and new hair pins to match with them, Toys and colouring books by the dozen, Tellytubbies, Noddy and Scooby Doo, That one school trip to the zoo, Wearing mom's clothes and her huge shoes, A new pen and pouch driving away the exam blues, Wanting to grow up, wanting to be tall, Tired of being the youngest one and small, Tired of being called the kid, Learning to cycle, learning not to skid, Falling, bleeding, yelling and crying, Not understanding what was meant by 'dying', Envying mom for not having exams, Wanting to be the celebrity with all those fans, Dreaming of the day with no school, The day I'll be a teenager, you...

They asked me a million times, the same thing over and over. "Who do you want to be when you grow up?", they said. Somehow this question has been a constant safe resort for all the distant or close uncles and aunts I (and most of you, I'm sure) have had. They always are interested in our future plans, though often forgetting our answers within the next blink of an eye. Somehow it has collectively become a part and parcel of the Indian (and now worldwide, it seems) psyche, that a person is worthy of notice only if he's working towards some end, passionately. Another thing is, this question that I fully dissected by gauging the motives behind, the tone of and the way of asking, has evolved into something that needs a 'materialistic' answer. I mean, there's this famous saying wherein a kid said "I wanna be happy" when asked this question, and was thought to be simple and innocent by the adults who most probably returned with the same question a few...

Some people think they know themselves. So well. Every facet, every thought, every reaction seems to bring no surprise. And I never was one of them. But then, I thought I had the basics right. A person who can manage fairly good in academics, quite comfortable with elocution, clumsy as hell in anything to do with sports or grace, okay at friendship, good at maintaining relationships, and really senti whenever things ended. But then, everyone's life has that moment. If you're lucky, you'll have not just one, but many of these. This moment alerts you to some change in you, some parts of you flipped inside out, to show colours which never existed on your spectrum before. This change can be a slow, subtle and calm one, or it can be a huge bang, boom and splash. The calm one is peaceful, so where's the fun in that? The banging change is the one that turns your world upside down, making everything topsy-turvy and is something every adrenaline junkie eyes. I never knew I was...

I can barely breathe. As I feel the whoosh whoosh of my seemingly scarce breaths, I want to tell you a story. My story. I was born with 8 siblings, and our mom was a single mom. She didn't ever tell us about our dad, and we never pestered her, as she was good enough for both. She would give us all we needed, keep us warm and happy. She was the main focus in our lives, we would do whatever she asked, and she rarely, if ever, was wrong. Though she wasn't a very emotional woman, I knew she loved me a little better than my siblings. Maybe because I was a little weak at times, got a cold and fever too often. I still remember how once when we were kids, and others were ridiculing me for feeling cold all the time, she had bought a new blanket, a unique one, made by an old woman who was the only obstetrician and also a magic-worker in my mom's village. She had silently walked in while we tossed and turned in our sleep, and covered me with it, and I don't think I ever felt more...

She was a beauty, yes she certainly was, Made to be perfect, with just no flaws, She had a heart of gold and a will of steel, She was exuberance and joy on a reel, She was a wild kid, a daughter of the breeze, She glistened in the dew, and flew with ease, She wanted to be let loose, and so she sauntered, She walked in, and the whole view was altered, So many she had belonged to, so many she stood by, She was the reason why, many a man would die, He sought her, her love and eternal peace, He fought for her thinking her rightfully his, He fought, for over a decade he fought, His legendary struggle, in a new era brought, His intentions were noble and actions were brave, And his fight a new meaning to destiny gave, He dreamed and won her, welcomed her in, A tricolored necklace right under her chin, He gave her a most magnificient abode, New and renewed, his dreams flowed, But now that he has her, there seems to be, A need to chain her, not set her free, Her meaning a...

She had a way with words, and he hardly ever spoke, She was careless and free, and he fixed all she broke, She ranted on for ages, and he was content to just listen, She tried to let it go unseen, but he saw the tear glisten, She didn't want to tell anyone, and he never tried to ask, She didn't show it much, her feelings were always masked, She wouldn't communicate, though to him she often talked, She thought he didn't notice, and his intelligence she mocked, The year was a year of trial for him, and he repeatedly failed, The attempts he cautiously advanced, she repeatedly assailed, The fears and worries he had about her, were getting bolstered, The rebukes that he got from her, his dread they slowly fostered, The repelling and rude ways and anger, didn't get him to surrender, The first day she left early, he peeked into her office and calender, The year gone past he couldn't see, it was wiped neat and clean, The past and present ...

She was the first one to look me into my eyes, A smile and a tear together appeared on her face, She taught me to be patient, good and kind, She was the first friend I ever embraced. He taught me to be strong, to stand on my own feet, He taught me that back then, and yet teaches me the same, He taught me how I was the best but still could improve, He was the first friend to call me by my name. She was the first one I cried to when Mom yelled at me, She was the one who thought I was prettiest of them all, She taught me to love animals, and humans all alike, She was the first friend who saw me crawl. He was the first one I knew who loved to read, He was one who saw my first tooth break, He taught me how to ride, read and swim, He was the first friend who left and made my heart break. She was crying too when I entered school that first day, The last day, t'was her hug that made me cry the most, She taught me a good friend could heal better ...

Fate is by the direction of an incense-stick's fume, A bat sitting on the window predicts impending doom. A lizard falls on you, and you're about to die, Your left eye flutters and your fortune will fly, A crow perched on the window-sill brings a definite guest, Oh and good luck comes from a little sparrow's nest, A black spot on a baby's forehead protects her from evil, Marrying frogs invites the long-absent and cool drizzle, A glass frame breaks and invites death to the people in the pic, Death is also coming when the flame goes from a diya 's wick, A dog wails loud and the ghosts wake up and prowl, A very bad news accompanies the poor barn owl, No eating, talking or bathing during an eclipse, Sins are washed away by the Ganges in a few dips, An 'evil eye' is prevented by the scary mask on the door, Horoscope is the way to happy marriages for sure, A black cat crosses your way, and you fail in all you attempt, A girl born in the ...

Mom asked her to pray to Him, She asked Mom who and why? Mom said He will be your saviour, You're always under His eye. She asked Mom for proof He lived, Because Him she never saw, But Mom said faith she should have, Skepticism her only flaw. Dad asked her to wear a dress, So much longer than she liked, It covered her arms and midriff too, She hated and disliked. She said it wasn't in fashion, Not the style she adhered, He said it wasn't about fashion, T'was her safety he feared. She wanted a new little crop-top Nice, sexy and short But only a blouse that short was allowed, Traditional's all she could sport They told her not to talk to this guy, He could be a potential threat, To her peace, sanity and innocence, About him and her they fret. She said "It's just a date and nothing else" They said there's no such thing as a date, A single slip or mistake could, Completely ruin her fate. She wanted to ...