Rain that muddles

Dark has the power to lure anyone. It was the one of mystery waiting to be unraveled. May be it is because of the dreamer in me, for it demands the mind to wander like a pendulum oscillating between the past and the future oblivious to the present. It was just half past four in the evening of scorching season of the extended summer. With a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and book on the other, I was starring far ahead through the French window, for the sky had darkened, onus on the summer rain. I couldn’t help but romanticize the sound of thunder and the lightening that split the now midnight blue sky. It was a sunny afternoon that indeed turned out to be a chilly but beautiful evening. I could feel the chill and I reveled in it.

It was another time, another place I was laying on the bed of grass under the ceiling of stars. That night had been beautiful too. With a fire to warm and the man to love, no one would have asked for a better night. There was a house, built of stone and cement, with a swing in the front porch that overlooked the hills. The simplicity that was so banal was enduring to the eye. There was rain and thunder with the flash of lightening. Suddenly everything was dark again.

I was sipping the cup of coffee by the window, seeing more than what the view offered, more than the men in the raincoats and women in umbrellas saving themselves from the puddles that were formed on the muddled earth. I had to smile for it was the clear sky I could see in the place far away. The water so blue and the grass to green, the bastion in the middle that was so enchanting. No, there was no sleeping princess but hopefully a prince charming. The murky clouds dawned over the tower pouring with a roar making the picture as nebulous as the muddled earth.

There were visions that spelled mayhem for it muddled the realism from the dream. There is truth beneath the chaos as there is a mask over the dark.

Yes the rain muddles the earth indeed.

Chick Literature, a Genre in itself

Chick literature, for people who don’t know it is the kind of books which guys avoid and the ones that cater to women regardless of the age. I’m not sure if you have heard of Mills and Boon publications or Nora Roberts or Debbie Macomber, who are quite famous authors of the contemporary Romance novella. (I see you now get the point why they cater to women). It doesn't matter that my favorite authors are Gabriel Garcia Marquez and the Bronte Sister. These are the authors who are the reigning queens in the kingdom of romance.

So you wonder what is it about Chick Lit that attracts women, I wondered myself. It is set in the most idealistic situation where the male protagonist in inevitably the handsomest man on town, exuding manliness, with the bad boy reputation. Needless to say more often than not he is stinking rich and falls in love with the most unlikely candidate who is our heroine, the independent and beautiful. In short a beauty with a brain. The man rough around the edges and the fierce lioness, experience this intense physical attraction, of course they are mutual so unlike the real life. One leads to another, fall in love and they end up getting married with or without the quick tumble between sheets. And they love and live happily ever after in the world where the possibility of them breaking is next to Nil. The money is never the problem for it is a given. The guy or the girl is mostly stinking rich come on. The man who is tamed by love of the purest form becomes a dream boy to every woman; to every woman who is reading the book giving enough reason to escape to the unreal.

Well I stopped wondering why quite a while ago!

Surge of Super Heroes

There have way too many takes and movies of numerous heroes in the roles of Batman and Spider-man which failed to impress us, that failed to linger. But off late we have been witness to the latest trend of these amazing super hero movies that enthralled us all. There was a time when the super hero movie was just an action packed "good guy kills bad guy and saves the world"; but not anymore. 

The trilogy which we all enjoyed, lived with, fought over and made peace with redefined the outlook of super hero genre. Suddenly it isn't just about hero saving the world, it was also about how and what brought out his super hero instincts. It makes us believe that they were human too and they are someone who we can relate to, appreciate and respect. All thanks to Christopher Nolan being the outcast and for keeping ahead of the trend. Christian Bale mostly unknown till then added weight to the role of Batman. I cannot imagine better person for that role. I'm sure anything I say about the legendary battle of Batman and Joker of Dark Knight fame would only insult the serenity of such an equation.

Spider-man aka Peter Parker, the orphaned kid brought up by his Aunt and Uncle somehow looks different in the lens of Mark Webb. He seemed to stronger and better when it is Andrew Garfield who dons the Spider-man spandex. Yes the new avatar Spider-man and the new makeover to the less famous (in relation to movies at leas) super hero in the line of Marvel Comics. The transformed Peter Parker has stronger sense of righteousness and a childish side which is adorable. Needless to say his onscreen chemistry with Gwen Stacy is steamier and more real than the one with Mary Jane. Personally I'm happy to be rid of the latter but sorry for the loss of Gwen.

With hell lot of super heroes in line, waiting to unleash the charm and play Good Samaritan, the time has finally come for us to see them for who they are - As human as the person next to us with the will stronger than any of us to make the difference; the will that made them Super Heroes in the first place.

Of old Pickup Lines and Unsolicited Advances

Weekends, they are the expression of pure ecstasy. The anticipation of a lazy weekend catches you like bad cold. So like so many others, I started home a little early from work to begin my weekend a little earlier. As I started my 15 minute walk towards home from the station through the crowded bazaar, a guy accosted me with the ostensible request for time. I don't claim to be naive but in the hurry to reach home, I didn't bother to catch the tone and failed to recognize the pickup line. So I gave my genuine reply and that was "Sorry, I don't know since I don't have a watch." (I seriously do not wear a watch and Who in this age asks for the phone number just like that to girl and using the oldest pick up line?)

No sooner it registered that this guy was not interested in time but in me, made even more obvious by the slight brush and small talk and desperate attempt to get my mobile number, I literally ran from there in the fear that he would have enough guts to follow me home. Believe me a girl knows the difference between a genuine attraction and a lechery, it was the latter though in a milder form.

In a crowded area, at the time say around 8.30, if he can make unsolicited advances and ask for a girl's number, I can only imagine what the cousins had to go through in the village of Badaun, around the same time only there was no one around. Only then it wasn't the phone number that was asked but it was their dignity and life that were taken. Encountering the leering though not something new, that one minute, all one could think was getting away from that place as soon as possible. And like so many other women, I just would have brushed it off like I had done in the past if not for the wake of unabated rapes. Even while penning this down, I have half a mind to just forget it and move on because these are pretty "normal" occurrences a woman has to face when taking a public transport. This is exactly where we go wrong. Things as small as these tend to give birth to bigger ones that ultimately claim the life of our sisters or should I say children.

Perhaps we women need to be stronger than to just run away.

May be time has come for us to redefine what is normal and what isn’t!

Wait

There is nothing as bad and frustrating as waiting.

Those days that build up the nerves, the anxiety that makes you forget something as normal as eating, the anticipation of the response and the fear of negativity, each having an equal probability, and most of all it is the question of “What then?” that hangs in the air. It makes one doubt their own abilities; look for comfort and reassurance from someone other than your own. It drives you crazy. It is weird, the way things work. The insomnia that gives you sleepless nights, the extra energy that you always seem exude, makes you jumpy and irritable. Hours feel like days and the days appear like weeks and seem to stretch into months. You live in a limbo, where the notion of time is nonexistent till the judgment day arrives. And when it does ascend, it doesn’t matter how long had it been, just that you know it right there, with no regards to the nature of the outcome.

May be this wait, the anonymous seductress, makes you search and look deeper at your insecurities. Perhaps it is just a ploy to test your resolve or possibly it was just an allusion to make you see your real needs.

Whatever it is, the wait, at the end of it, you will be as clear in your decision as the starless sky. The wait as you will realize will not wait forever…

Who Am I?

In the whirlwind of everyday life one hardly has time for self realization. It's a question that is reserved for the saints, for the philosophers, and anyone who is a fool in society's opinion. When a crisis hits and when things go awry, the haywire inertia takes its place only to be displaced shortly after.

But who am I really? Am I someone who everyone thinks I'm? Does everyone know me so well that my attitude and action becomes predictable? Or is it all such an act which is known to us, something like a voluntary reaction when facing the public?

The person who people think I'm and person who I'm really is, when each surface? Do you even possibly know which is the real you?

Too many questions, too little time. Each time you think you have found the answer that is if you were on the road to self discovery, another comes up confusing you more. Now you just came back to square one. 

May be discovering yourself is as important as questioning the existence. May be unearthing the puzzle will somehow lead you to the purpose. May be it is the sole reason of being born humans. Finding your true self is a process, it cannot happen in one day, one week, one month or one year. It takes a lifetime; a lifetime of chances, choices and confusions and enough courage to live through all of it.

You really should be lucky if you can find it then!