Breaking patterns

I have a little nightly ritual. I turn off all the lights, put on some Warren Zevon, light a cigarette and walk around in my underwear searching for some inspiration. A pitch dark house fascinates me. It puts my brain on a hyper-imaginative mode, especially after alternate doses of Murakami and high fantasy IF games.

But this night knows it’s going to be a long one. There’s that appalling number 25 looming bright, an impending quarter life crisis, a sudden fear of death, a bucket list getting longer by the minute, some thousand books to read, a hundred things to learn, and the seconds ominously ticking away…

I used to wonder about people who have spent entire lifetimes perfecting the making of a shoe, or a watch, or bread, for crying out loud. Didn’t monotony hit so hard back then, or is it just generations getting more restless? Perhaps those people are the ones who finally understand the deeper meaning of life, not us soul-searching nitwits who will never really be satisfied.

As for me, I know I will always be making and breaking patterns just to create news ones all over again. It’s almost scary that I’m this easily fooled by my own ever changing self.

In the past two weeks, I have developed a new pattern. I wake up at exactly 7:38 am, and it always interrupts an exciting dream. It amused me at first, but now it pisses me off. Perhaps, sleeping at 5 am will break that pattern…

Cheating, Deepika’s #MyChoice video & more…

Homi Adajania’s video ‘My Choice’ on ‘Women Empowerment’ featuring Deepika Padukone and 99 other women, has gone viral, which was what they wanted, but has created an outrage, which was not perhaps what they expected.

Deepika, looking gorgeous as always, says things like ‘My body, my mind, my choice’. She goes on to say that the kind of dress she wears, what time she comes home, whether ‘to love temporarily or lust forever’, ‘to have sex before marriage, outside of marriage or to not have sex at all’, is her choice. That, according to her is women empowerment.

I think everyone agrees that the video has nothing to do with women empowerment. She seems to have taken the opportunity to tell the world, ‘Yes, I am bold enough to think about running around naked, coming home at whatever time I want, choosing not to have a baby, or even having sex outside of marriage.’ The video has taken the word ‘empowerment’, and flung it far and wide, beyond the focus of the camera lens, where even Deepika’s billowing hair cannot reach.

That said, I may then say that the video was an attempt to make Indian women aware that they do have a choice, and to tell them to make their own choices. A choice to not have a baby if they don’t want it, to not have sex if they don’t want to, to dress the way they like as long as they are comfortable with it. 99 women are not in the video to simply fill up the edits in Deepika’s footage; they are independent women with strong personal opinions of their own.

People have focused way too much on the ‘having sex outside of marriage’ part. I did not hear Deepika say, “You should have sex outside of marriage.” She merely states that it is a choice. Yes, a choice to cheat is incredibly selfish, and will probably shatter your partner’s life. But it is, after all, a choice. The woman (or man) who chooses to cheat knows somewhere deep down, the repercussions of such a decision. I do not think Deepika meant to say that a woman can cheat and get away with it, or that a woman is allowed to cheat but a man isn’t.

It’s a choice. I’ve been on both ends of the cheating cane. It hurts, sure. A simple message expressing that he wants to be with her, how he longs to take her in his arms… is enough. Enough to realize you are faced with a choice to give him another chance, or to leave him. The choice to cheat is simpler. You don’t cheat if you’re happily committed to your partner. Making a choice to cheat, in my opinion, says you do not care enough, or that in your mind, you two are already broken up.

There is enough grey between being faithful and cheating. In the end it all comes down to what choices you make.

Dear 2015

New Years

Dear 2015,

Just begin soon. Get the damn celebrations and the enthusiastic welcomes over with already.

This time of year is trying enough for a voluntarily yet somehow unwillingly single girl, without having her birthday squashed right between Christmas and New Years Eve. I wish I could sleep through it all, and wake up in the New Year. A fresh start, so to say, as I know perfectly well it’s just a state of mind. I also know that change comes at its own sweet time.

Sometimes I just wish I wasn’t complicated. I wish I never knew the convenience of a drink. I wish I’d never known how layers of complexity dissolve and wash away in the sparkling liquids. I wish I didn’t meet people who are just plain simple. Cause complicated is just foolish when you throw away every perfectly good chance at happiness, for no explainable reason. I wish I didn’t have that raging need to think and over think so goddamn much.

I wish I wasn’t lost, but if I wasn’t lost, I wouldn’t know that I needed to be lost to know that I need to seek something vague that may or may not give me happiness, and that all I know is what I don’t want which may or may not have given me happiness had I stuck on to it a little longer. I wish I didn’t have the ability to generate thoughts such as above.

I am a million, tiny little pieces and every place I go, I’ve left behind traces. Travels become what you are; the mind is always someplace far. My soul can never be whole unless I can be every place I’ve ever been. And yet I’ll never go back, to pick up all the pieces I lost. It’s another part of me, cold, silent and broken.

Fleeting Feelings

stock-photo-gold-pocket-watch-with-motion-blur-on-the-hands-to-convey-the-passing-of-time-8647270

It begins with a fleeting feeling
A thought sitting cross-legged,
Waiting patiently to be thought upon
And then longer you ignore,
louder the noise it creates
Tugging at your brain
from that tiny little space
Little attention-seeker thought,
trying to engage your mind

When finally you sit up and take notice
Of all the screaming going on inside
There’s an uncontrollable spasm
Rocking your nerves
And suddenly the thought courses through
With an all-consuming fire

It seeps in through veins,
right till the tips of your fingers
Immobilizing you with it’s sudden hold
Your eyes fixate on that spot on the wall
That blank space,
about three inches south of the clock

Then you’re faced with a decision
The work staring expectantly at you,
Or this idea taking form,
which you simply must verbalize
Before it curls up inwards
Like a tight, stubborn fist
That cannot be coaxed to open
In a faraway corner of your cluttered mind.

So there you are, still staring
Fingers fumbling for a pen or keyboard
Work procrastinated, “Something came up!”
And a furious scribble later:

A satisfactory quieting of your insides,
And a grin on your face
That gets wiped off,
When confronted with deadlines.

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