Friday, May 14, 2010

Seduced by the Rains

As the gusts of winds, smelling of moist deccan soil fill my senses, and the pitter-patter of rain hits my face with loving stings, I see my hand outstretched to hold that elusive beauty, but see the raindrops trickle down my palm and fall off my fingertips. The sensuous chill make the goose bumps on my arm tingle that wee bit more. The songs of Shaan and Mohit Chauhan make my heart skip those couple of beats. But just then the low growling thunder sounds like it is imitating and laughingly mocking my heart that is drumming with the beats of the rain. The feel of the soft carpet of gulmohar petals on the balcony floor created by the messy and impish wind takes my breath away.

The whole experience is playing havoc with every pore of my being. I feel that smile gradually pulling the corners of my lips wider. I feel the tickle as the drops of water teasingly and very slowly move along the length of my arm. I feel the warmth of an unbelievably loving emotion inside me despite the coolness of the rain and the wanton breeze. I feel thankful for being able to be part of this spectacle when nature decides to be at its playful best. I feel elated, for absolutely no reason. I feel somewhat wild for standing in the rain with open arms, facing the sky, and my eyes closed. It’s about soaking in the experience with reckless abandon. The heart takes over reason and logic and the world seems a better place cleansed of all evils!

Bookmark and Share


But Now I Cry, I Wonder Why?


It happened suddenly, and then it happened over time;
That extraordinary magic was beginning to wind.
Hopeful eyes spoke volumes of the softness of the heart
And our smiles shyly touched the other’s mind

It was meant to be, I beamed when I thought
Nights of sleep were in a happy frenzy lost
The sky was azure; I was in love I was sure
But now I cry, I wonder why?

Staring at the dazzling moon on cloudless nights
Filled my heart with a resplendent faith.
In my secret world I saw us enclosed in togetherness
There was nothing there that could shatter my soul

Life will be good, I told myself
I fought all fears, overcame all dreads
The nights’ silver clouds were a perfect home
But now I cry, I wonder why?


The playful raindrops drew me pictures of sparkling verve
Drenched in ecstasy my steps were bolder, assured, in love,
The ardour was tingly and lingered on for long after
Little moments made life my worthwhile

My smiles grew wider, full of conviction
The feelings out of their shell
Exploding with joyous sensitivity, thrill, delight
But now I cry, I wonder why?

I was hoping for a beginning, but then it ended.
My confidence faltered as I lost it all
It cost my heart many tiny furtive tears
The warmth of love was now unfeeling bitter despair

Sincerity I said mattered most.
It did but not without trust
Shadows blocked every happy thing
I did cry. No wonder why.

Precious vivid memories in black and white
Safely tucked away into that private chapter of my life
With no regret I try to walk on alone
My tears are dry. I cannot cry.

Bookmark and Share


The Devil Wears My Skin

I just finished reading The Devil Wears Prada, a well-known chick lit made even more famous because of the well received movie that goes by the same name. For those who came in late, the “devil” in the book’s title alludes to one of the main characters, Miranda Priestly, again inspired by Editor-in-Chief of Vogue magazine, Anna Wintour. What had made me like the movie was Meryl Streep as Miranda, and while her rendition of the character lent it layers and dimensions as compared to the solely evil description in the book. In fact, I was so taken by her performance that every act, gesture, the raising of the eyebrow and dialogue that Miranda had in the book had me picture Meryl doing it, with her unreadable face, trademark white hair and classy timeless attire – all in place.

I kept turning page after page to see Andy slaving away to Miranda’s unreasonable demands, only because I wanted to know how she calls the whole thing off. The happiest place in the book for me was when Andy publicly tells her boss to “F*** off” and walks away. I have been thinking ever since of all the times I have heard friends talk about giving in to what their bosses demand, however incredulous. I also thought about the times I had to keep quiet and quietly do what I was told to do. There have been times like them, even though my boss was a great friend and guide when it came to our personal interactions, but in the professional arena, things weren’t so great.

We pass out of college with big dreams and aspirations, and two weeks into a promised job or internship, we might as well check the soles of our shoes to see how badly we’ve managed to stomp over our own big ideas. Agreed that we have to do the “picking up the tricks of the trade” bit first, but we are dismissed in a manner that crushes all sense of self-pride and puts us on the lowest rung on the ladder of our morale.

How many times have we bowed over to accommodate requests that take over our personal lives, our personal time and space? How many of us can boast of not having to spend extra hours after work, trying to meet deadlines that our managers set very unrealistically or just to please his boss? How many times have we heard disparaging comments that are hurtful and demeaning, but kept mum to avoid a bad performance rating or losing the job? Honestly, just when did we start believing that our jobs are more important than our self respect? The very thing for which we get into a job – a earn money and gain respect in the society (as if that is the only yardstick by which one’s respectability quotient can be measured!)

It is not that all bosses and organisational leaders are the same. There are many who command that respect by virtue of being good human being who understand human needs and limitations and their need to be loved and respected. But when I was told by my boss that she saw a lot of her in me, I decided I needed a different perspective in live – simply to grow in another direction. I did not want to be as hated as she was. I’d want people to mean if they ever complimented me and I’d want people to give me feedback without the fear of being gotten back at during annual promotions.

We crib and crib and crib. And just today what I known all this while, has put itself into words for me to write down here: we often do not take decisions based on what will make us happy. We take the easy way out. We choose the easier way to make money by not risking our own capital, skills, talents… We choose to live the banal existence that pushes us to endure new heights of humiliation every day… We to choose to let others subjectively objectify our skills and abilities and grade us based on what work is given to us, and not what we would like to do….

So basically, aren’t we letting the devil take over?

Bookmark and Share