Friday, August 12, 2011

Two To Tango

Last year I very conveniently skipped putting up a post on this day: the day my blog turned one. I have personal superstitions about being too happy about a good thing. This year I have decided to pack that irrational thought into a bag weighed down with stones and throw into the overflowing gutter outside my house.
When I started writing ,it was to pass time since colleges in the city of Mumbai were in a state of partial shut-down as Professors across the city were striking for an increase in wages. God bless their souls since that incident gave me a lot of free time with not a clue about what to do with it. Like most things I take up (and my mother will vouch for this) I thought that this will end up being a passing fancy and my four posts a month trend would dwindle into nothing in the span of the next six months.
How on earth is a blogger supposed to wish his/her blog a happy birthday? A most confounding problem this is, I must say.
That’s when I remembered a friend’s opinion regarding the blog the other day. She said “The blog is you and you are the blog”. A simple statement free of embellishments but very appropriate for this particular occasion if you give it a little thought. So keeping that in mind I’ve decided to compare the points of view in the various posts I’ve written till now and if there have been changes in my opinions in these last two years.

When I started the blog I had no clue about what I wanted to talk about to people. I just wanted to express myself. The first four posts are living proofs of this fact. Writers blog

I believed in the sanctity of the joint family and considered any problem that arose was the result of my inability to adjust. It was just a case of sweet lemons. I might very soon delete this post. The Good, bad and the ugly. It isn't worth the effort when only the Ugly remains.

I had a problem with people’s opinions about anybody's dusky complexion. I hardly have time to worry over petty ideals of beauty now so I care less about it but I still do. The Sisterhood of Strawberries and Chocolates.

Travelling is a still a hurdle I have to deal with every 6 months. To meet my family I’ll continue doing it for the next 6 years if the need arises. A Thousand Times Over

My baby cousin was welcomed into this world a few months after the blog. She’s two now and I’m enjoying the last few months of my teen hood. She’s busy exploring the world and imbibing the truths of life. So am I.  Right Angle

I thought youngsters doing drugs needed help and they could come out of the mess they’re in. I still do. 
My brother and I missed each other a lot. We fight a lot now; really serious fights which begin and end with blows. I still love him although I don’t know what the response is from his end. Sibling Mail Order

Unity in diversity is still the foundation on which India stands. But I fear I see it cracking up slowly day by day. Bangles All The Way

I still enjoy the small things in life. It’s the big things that I’ve yet to come to terms with.  Sweet Nothings

My parents and Grandma are my biggest inspirations when it comes to writing. There are a few names after theirs which have been added to the list though.   The Shinning

I like writing short stories. They need a gigantic amount of work done on them and the space for improvement available is enough to play football in. Webs

Pakistani’s are human beings. There are myriads of kinds of people in every country, not just India. 

God Almighty and I are great pals still. It’s a symbiotic, mutual understanding of sorts. ( If you’re reading this God, please be informed I’m kidding ;) I’m the only dependent one here). I still am petrified of exams.  

I miss my family a lot still. Even though this is the fifth year running that I’m away from them. Percieve-r-ance

 Birthday wishes will and have to work. They just seem to take an awfully long time. I could really use a wish right now

The situation in Indian hasn’t changed much.... If anything we are now moving into a more profound state of corruption and anarchy. I’d rather talk about this some other day. Road.Rage.Rules

Children are the father, mother and everything else possible  of mankind. Wordsworth knew what he was talking about. Different Strokes

I haven’t stopped losing things, but I‘ve stopped letting them affect me. Sort of. The Inheritance of  Loss

Oh! And how can I, how DARE I forget the wonderful fellow bloggers I’ve met here? People I’ve never met in person but friends nevertheless. They have for these last two years taught me a lot more about writing, interacting with people, and dealing with life and at the same time entertained me thoroughly without really intending to do the former. The blogosphere has proved to be the most interesting kind of contemporary classroom I’ve come across.

Two years , 30 posts and Two entities (the blog and I) partaking in an intricate dance of words, opinions, thoughts and feelings. Impressive. Specially keeping in mind my track record when it comes to pursuing things wholeheartedly and continuously.

 I'm hoping that the tango is complicated.


Saturday, August 6, 2011

Tu m’as manqué

I missed you.

Sweet sounding words that make you feel marvellous like no other three worded sentence can, maybe except ‘ I love you’ but that has become so common place, now every random affection felt towards another living creature is expressed in terms of love.

The privilege of being missed....

I haven’t come across much else that beats the gratifying sensation that floods every inch of your body when someone says they missed you. Getting good grades or being appreciated for something I wrote, yes. But being missed still stands a notch higher than the rest.
It makes having been away for all that time pining for familiar things and people, voices and smiles all that much more worth it. It fortifies the raw, sketchy hope I have in the human ability to connect, to value and to cherish. But most of all I love those three words when they are said to me because well..... It feels great to be loved and yeah, I am a narcissistic soul.

So I’d like to thank my mom, dad, grandmother and my three loving friends whose ebullient expressions of joy and beatific smiles on seeing me made my day. I’d like to thank my newfound friends I met at the summer school I attended for two weeks in Scotland for missing me. We bonded a lot more in those two weeks than I have been able to with some people I’ve known for over two years. Our differences in age (there were those in their 30’s and 40’s), nationalities, educational and cultural backgrounds never was an obstacle to forge what for the present looks like longstanding friendships. 
I’d like to specifically thank my cousin and his wife with whom I spent some time in London for missing me. I count those five days with them as one of the most memorable vacations I’ve taken and I can very confidently state that I haven’t met many people who have been so hospitable, welcoming, loving and free and yeah... who have in a just a span of spending five days in person with me and two weeks over the phone giving pep talks when I was in Scotland like me enough to miss me.
I also want to thank my professor for giving me a warm welcome on returning to class after a 3 week hiatus and also for being more interested in knowing if I had a good time instead of reminding me of the mountain sized heap of work that I have yet to catch up with.
Since I’ve spent most of this post rambling on about being missed I’d like to now mention what I missed the most.

I missed this blog of mine. I spent most of May and June preparing for the summer school and then the whole of July in UK. I’m really sorry for having neglected this one thing in the world that serves as the perfect outlet for my thoughts, ideas, opinions, feelings and other synonyms you can come up with. This is the only place that soothes my urge to write.

So during my 22 day stay in the UK, having the most marvellously unforgettable time of my life (apart from learning Modernism in English Literature) I’m glad I met people who believe that if you love someone or value something enough to miss it just spit it out because I haven’t yet developed the supernatural ability to look into someone and see what I mean to them. Those 3 simple words help me live every coming day to the fullest. And in this world that’s worth something. Trust me.

But I still don’t get why the French have to say 'you missed me' for 'I missed you' and then say what it actually means is 'you were missed by me'. It's another story that it sounds better the convoluted way.