What would happen if I (read: a woman with Social Responsibilities) abandoned it all and went in search of enlightenment at 25 (if I get stupid enough to do that?!)...!?

Back in secondary school at KV - Syllabus A, we had a poem called Yashodhara ka Vilaap (forgive any speling mistakes) - about which I remember the feeling expressed than any of the lines.

It was a beautiful poetry about this character called Yashodara who is none othr than Buddha's very own wife queen; about her sorrow that her beloved left her and their only son in search of "enlightenment". 

It was a poem that touched me deeply.  I couldn't find it onilne right now (though I would like that very much), else I would share here.

So just imagine a rich king, abandons his wife and young child, goes off in the search of some peace or knowledge or God, however one may interpret - all vey noble and grea on his part but what about his wife and child. 

In the case of Rama, he abandons his wife (and unborn child(ren) as it turns out), for keeping with the thoughts of his people and upholding so called "King's duties to his people".

Now let us pause and see what is expected of these women or rather what do they end up doing? Worship their beloved husbands; Not giving in to their personal feelings and respecting them still.  And th worst part is - these apparently, not out of any compulsion...

They may be big hearted, but I am not.  I do not think the same would have happened if the roles were reversed...

Thes husbands  respecting their wives, understanding the causes that led them to act like that if they did much less worship them...!? Nien!  I do not know what is root cause - society, chauvenism, inert human nature... Whatever it may be, I do not know nor want to get into those...

Well, am I happy to be in this century of modern household and understanding and Gamma men...?!  Yeah Baby, definitely. :) 

I know even now they would not really apprecate if I left my house/family/"responsibilities" and went in search of "enlightenment" but atleast they are adjusting enough and understanding enough when need arises for an onsite... :)

"Have I stopped living?!" List...

Here is a compilation I made in my bus journey in the morning, thinking about what to blog
- I am sorta pushing myself to blog once a day; trying to get back in touch with my writing side. . .

We will call it the list of "Have I stopped living?" or a "Have I let my heart grow too old?"

Agree or diagree to the below, honestly to yourselves and see if You have stopped living life yet!

-> You start feeling cynical or have a "mature distant eye" analyzing everything, when people speak around; thoughts of you own that you are not jumping to express at the first pause the other person gives in their sentence.

-> You start getting distracted with "how I am in a much more pathetic life than this person" thoughts when someone is sharing their problems OR in a "how I am better off" thoughts when somebody starts talking about how happy they are. Even if you do listen genuinely, still this thought lingers somewhere in a corner of your mind. 
(And this may or may not be the private thoughts mentioned in the previous point).
-> You do not exaggerate anything anymore, especially not for fun.

-> You stop getting visually excited about things/events; you try to keep a cool appearance throughout even when excited. 

-> Everyone you meet is not called a friend anymore, but falls under the category of an aquaintance or some such fancy levels of social circles.

-> You shrink your world to your priorities in work and loved ones.

-> You stop making new friends and struggle to keep in touch with the good old ones, as much as you used to before.

-> Your hobbies are no more that; you do not have time for those anymore.

-> You do not trust yourself too much anymore or have a lot of self doubts about your capabilities even for the smallest of things.

-> You stop appreciating yourself.  Or atleast think it unwise to admit it even if you did appreciate yourself for something.

-> You slowly stop appreciating nature or atleast you think you are too busy to do it. 

-> You still enjoy nature but you think you have other priorities and cannot "waste time" "right now" to appreciate it and keep it aside for later that never comes. 
-> But then if you stop a moment and think about it you know that you are wrong.

-> You stop appreciating your life. 

-> You feel jealous about or atleast Envy others often!

-> You feel lonely often.

-> Some you may agree to and some you may not; some you may even add to this list through your comments.

Independence - Life's Reward Structure

The problem with the people that love you/care about you is that they tend to not be able to accept the fact that you have grown up and/or that you are on your own, especially when you make decisions and choices that don't really go down well with them. 

Be it really big or really small, it is not - you did something like that because you made a conscious decision/choice - but were under a bad influence which lead you to do something like that, which you could not have conceived of by yourself, No!

The reason is simple, they cannot find fault with you, so it has to be someone or something else.  May be the friends, the various relationships with their environ, that may have put such thoughts and actions in them... But well, the hard truth is that, it is in most cases, not so!

There is this innate nature in human beings to gain independence in every form.  Entropy may be, showing up in its purest form!?  One wants to go his or her own way, learn things the hard way, even though there is this wisest person who could give you the best advise on the matter, right there, next to you in theform of a parent or a sibbling or a close friend.

But this may be out of various decisions/thought processes.  As in my case for instance, one may just want to learn it the hard way because there is a certain satiety associated with self learning even masochistic sometimes. There is a certain pride associated with "self" people and again the society or the upbringing is to be blamed for this thought structure too.  Independence, has some respect, some glamour to it, though people do not want it for their children all too soon (and it is almost always too soon).  So one may want to prove to their kin and kind that they are strong by trying to be independent and ends up growing a fondness to it, an attachment that becomes a fixation.  A reward structure.  Like a hard earned penny or something.  The learning that comes out, a "life's hard truth" that stares out at you at the end of a difficulty, may not be very sweet, but you will never forget the bitter sting and hence the learning either.  Or the reward it brought to you in any form/degree of satisfaction.

Is it wise to let people go and make all the bad decisions and learn by themselves, especially when it is your beloved child? Of course not, but you may have to let some learnings pass by, without your interference, and teach themselves to your loved ones, the hard way or otherwise!  Standing aside and watching your child grow up and try to fight life is a part of parenting too and the challenge is to keep them on their feet while they do, giving them the push without them realizing it, by a simple process - Trusting them to do it!

Trust works wonders... Trust me on this...

P.S: As always all these thoughts bring a stronger fear out, rather makes me brace myself to face a stronger challenge, in my future - Parenting!

Heights of Falling out of Tuch with being online...

I was groping around for the "New Mail" Tab while on GMAIL... And realized I prefer using the LN Domino Web Browser these days.... :(  SAD and PATHETIC....

Hers. . .

She always felt like she has known her for a long time. . . There was something about the look in her daughter's eyes like she knew her mother too well for her age or time would have permitted her to know.  The serene smile, yet, so innocent as it was worn on the little face. . .

The skin so soft.  The soft silky brown hair undecidedly folding into curls at the ends.  The little hands and feet.  The milky fragrance of her little body.  Even when the baby cried relentlessly in the nights during their initial days together, she did not get irritated. If she was tired, the minute she lifted her daughter, she was grateful for the warmth and comfort the little body offered her.  Her daughter was the most beautiful thing she had ever looked at, ever held. 

The little crinkles near the beautiful brown eyes. . . And those eyes.  That sometimes, soothed her... Sometimes disturbed her. . . It was colour she knew only too well.  She had not thought about it clearly for a long time though it used to nag her mildly, constantly. Every time she looked at her beloved child, she would invariably get hooked to the eyes.

Then it came to her one day. When she was going through her school photographs.  But it couldn't be.  It may not really be for it was not distinctly that shade of dark brown.  It was like a somehow more feminine version of the same eyes.  But it could just not be.

Everytime she thought about it, she became uncomfortable.  For her general wondering grew into a disturbing curiosity.  Then it drew her imaginative mind's interest far more deeply.  And before she could stop herself, she even started hoping that it was true. . . That is when she had to stop herself.  She did not want to disturb her calm, peaceful, in fact beautiful but a little lonely life.  Stop.  What was she thinking.  This is why she had to stop.  She wasn't Lonely.  She had her daughter.  This is what she had chosen.

She had the perfect life, she told herself.  An independent and interesting career.  A cozy little house for herself.  She is making enough money to support herself and her beautiful little daughter and still saving for her only daughter's future. . .

She did not have an unhappy committment - nothing that would affect her comfortable existence.  Her daughter was her world.  Her family had not spoken one word to her after her decision and she was not too worried.  Time heals everything.  She has supported her baby all alone for 2 years now. . . She was sure she can do it all her life. . .

She had her best friend to support her at hard times... No. . . No, she would do even without him.  Or would she?  Please, no not again. . .  Those eyes.  They always set her thoughts going like this which is why she was always wary of them though she loved them, especially for their familiarity for she could quietly build an imagination too good to be true. . . Wait... What is this. . . Stop. . .

She looked at her baby sleeping - the angel, the saviour, the joy. . . She soothed herself that it could not be so...  She was fine. . . Everything around her was fine. . .  And then the door bell rang.  It was time for his visit. . .  She loved to see the adorable smile that spread on her daughter's face every time she saw him. . . Much like her own happy heart at the wonderful company. . .   But she feared the day when she would ask about her father and the day she may even mistake him for, if only it were true. . . Stop. . .

She shook her thoughts away to go back to her life, the way it was. . . Happy but a little lonely. . . She had to admit. . . Except for these visits. . . She might very well admit it to herself. . . Herself alone. . . 

Letter to the Bastards.....

You sickening bastards,

What the fcuk do you guys get from that?  It totally slips me...

I do not understand the joy of a fleeting second of your hand/body touching/hitting skin/dress?

Why cannot we enjoy a moment of let down guard?  Why should we be vigilant all the time?  Why is it our fault if we walk down a road enjoying the scenary instead of watching out for the sicko in every person we walk past. . .

Nobody is going to bother if you go to your fcuking corners at your homes and do sick things imagining random people you see on the road...  Atleast we wouldn't know. . .

Do you even know how humiliating it is, those few seconds/minutes?  Well, do you even care. .

There is almost no girl that does not have a flashback of having been abused.  Beginning right from childhood...  I really don't want to start on child abusers.  There would be no end, the sickest of you all. . .

And all those educated bastards... These are the decent ones - with their friends and aquaintances - but walk to the Pubs/Coffee Bars/Dance Floors or any place that has crowd/drink/smoke/dance/music - where women would want to let the hair down - and start showing their ugly side just because women are "out and bold enough to have our share of fun" . . .  They have the face to even say that to their friends -"well what are such places for... After all the women come there to have their drinks!"

Just because a woman drinks or goes out with her friends doesn't make her "easy"...

The things you do in public, range from flashing to brushing past to shagging to groping and pinching... What sickening joy?!!!!

Well, get this, I know it probably doesn't hit you at all, but in the weakest of your moments, where your inflated egos and disguised insecurities are exposed, remember this!  You are the most despised, hated beings that could ever live on earth. . .

Last wish. . .

The rubble around her intrigues her barely awake brain while she is quietly indifferent, to all that chaos and cacophony of the dying.  She is careful not to walk upon any piece of flesh whether a part of an alive being or dead and it is not a conscious effort - it is involuntary.  She is so numb with exhaustion that she is incessantly aware of every infinitesimally small change in everything around her. She extends her hand to feel the morbid air, thick with the thoughts of so many thousand weeping and feeble souls, most willing to die quickly than live the horrible pain, while clinging dearly to the little of life left in their atoms.  She braces herself against the raw cold, and walks without paying heed to the calls of the few sane people trying to help the helpless.  She is sane enough to watch and understand the hurt and gauge the gross damage. She is not sane enough to help anyone there beyond dragging herself away from them before she kills everyone to a quicker, more peaceful death.

She slowly comes around to hear her mother's voice; opens her eyes to get a startlingly clear picture of her mother with eyes that seem wise and strange - worn out eyes, sore with dried tears - reflecting a hardened soul, cold with strength, fighting against the weakness of emotions.  She sees her nod towards the doctor.  She understands at that precise moment.  Her mother did not let her down even now.  Her mother is always right - she smiles towards her gently - she knows her mother would have heard her think - I love you!  She looks at the single pearly tear that trickles down her mother's cheek, the one she always loved to rub against.  She can still recall the smoothness and the smell of it.  I love you mom!  She closes her eyes to the tiny pin prick of the needle – the last of pain she was to endure, the last of anything she was to feel in her short life.  She closes her eyes, gratefully!