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Friday, September 28, 2012

A thousand little stories

I stood in my corridor in the dead of the night and looked at all the rooms around me. I walked in the corridors, and smiled at the little posters, drawings, messages, or names hanging on the doors. A door suddenly opened, and I peeped inside. Framed photographs, post-its, lights, books, mess, laughter. I knew the girl. She smiled at me. She had a mug of coffee in her hand.

I smiled back. There is a story behind every door. Suddenly I was filled with a sudden happiness. So many of us. SO many of us. Studying together. Living together! You enter any room and there is just so much happening behind it. You cannot even begin to fathom it. Tiny little worlds inside a big one. And all of us live in our bubbles, our own lives, friends, problems, memories, experiences. Sometimes the bubbles collide momentarily, and then off we go our separate ways. Sometimes the bubbles collapse and merge into one big bubble, and we float in it together.

Also, another observation. When I came here, I used to have these sudden imaginations where I would mistake people for my own friends back home. It happened very, very frequently and it was almost freaky. I used to tell so many people they remind me of so many other people I knew. Fast forward to yesterday, when I saw a group photo of my old college friends on Facebook, and I mistook three of them to look very much like my friends here! What’s more, one of the teachers looked like my current professor! It’s nothing big, but it’s just funny how we get accustomed to faces. And then we find those faces in other faces.

Also, you should listen to The Shins’ latest album: Port of Morrow, if you are into their kind of music. But pliss to give it a try. I just had Top Ramen noodles, and I had a very weird day. Don’t know what to make of it. Well, except for tea time, where I sang Linkin Park songs and looked at the sun dipping behind the clouds till the moon rose on the other side of the sky. The song ‘Aashiyaan’ (Barfi) is making me super super emotional right now and I am resisting a fierce urge to cry.

"Dabe dabe paaon se, aaye haule haule zindagi.
Hothon pe kundi chadha ke hum, taale laga ke chal
Gumsum taraane chupke chupke gaayein.

Aadhi aadhi baant lein, aaja dil ki yeh zameen,
Thoda sa tera sa hoga, mera bhi hoga, apna ye aashiyaan."


The crickets are extra loud today. And the silence brings the pre-exam feeling in dangerous amounts. And I miss the curled up figure of my roomie inside her red blanket and her gazillion jerky loo breaks which occur throughout the night, every night. And there is a big ugly insect inside my room and I’m not going to do anything about it.

If I’m making no sense, it’s the CH30CH3. Let’s hope for a better day tomorrow.

Hope.

Yep, let’s do that.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Black holes and revelations

Even though it’s nice to come back to a roommate who yells a loud ‘Hi!’ even before you’re inside the room, and one who threatens to throw you out of the room if you don’t get some fresh air when you’re down, it does feel good to have the room all to yourself for a week. You can wear whatever you want to (if at all), you can fling your mess around the room for a change, you can listen to whatever you want to and at whatever volume, you can cry, and you can trash someone on the phone. You get the picture. It just feels very, liberating, ‘sall I’m saying, even though it gets lonely after a point.

I just finished a Photography assignment. Clicked a few macro shots. Flowers, bees, butterflies, stones, whatever I could find. I love butterflies, they’re beautiful. And they do not fly away when you go close to them. Also explored my voyeuristic side as I snapped pictures of them making babies. Dragonflies, on the other hand, are tricky little paranoid creatures. But I love how their wings glisten and sparkle in the sunlight. It’s brilliant. Sharing some of the pictures here :)

(Butterfly, fluttered by)

(Sunlight dipped petals)



(Glittering wings)


(Yellow)


(Spiraling down)

(Love is in the air, and on the wall)


(Ribbit)

Mark Knopfler’s voice is caressing my ears, and calming me down. His voice is like chocolate, which is also what I’m eating. I really like it when sunlight permeates through the pink drapes into the room. Today was our last day of classes. The official last day of Journalism and Audio Visual students together. Ten days before the final exams begin. We had night photography classes where we captured light trails, and where we sang songs and rejoiced the ending of the first phase of a wonderful journey at SIMC. The wind echoed with the soft acoustic strums of the guitar and our voices trailed far into oblivion. The first semester is already over. One and a half years later, I’ll be writing a similar blog post about the end of the course, and the end of my stint here at Lavale.

The last two months have been the most beautiful and the most unexpected and unusual months of my life. I didn’t even come to know when the rain gave way to the lush green plants, the trickling waterfalls, the rainbows, the colourful flowers, the slithering snakes and the peacocks. When the fog took over the sunlight, when the breeze got colder, when the moon became bigger, when the sunsets became even more heavenly, when the friends who I hardly talked to became my best friends, and when my feelings transformed. It is funny really, how sometimes you don’t have a control over how you feel. You try to cling on to what is right, quite like Jim Carrey trying to grab hold of the memories of Clementine washing away from his conscience in The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. And you fight, and you deny and you hurt yourself and despite it all, you feel yourself slipping and sliding down. As Leo Tolstoy said, “Is it really possible to tell someone else what one feels?”

You look at the sunset, you feel the breeze against your face, you walk on moonlit drenched roads, and watch the clouds glide past the silvery shiny orb, and your eyes water with ease, and you feel like you can laugh and cry at the same time. Sometimes feelings can be so illogical; heck they are mostly always illogical, and no matter how much you try you can’t prevent yourself from crashing deep into the infinite abyss of treacherous emotions. Sigh.

Sometimes it feels like a dream, or like life is playing a silly joke with me. And sometimes, I don’t mind it. Not at all. It is really hell inside my head sometimes. Do I like to sabotage my own happiness? Do I revel in being miserable? To add a dramatic tragedy in everything I do? I wish the wind would carry my feelings away, far far away into the valley, or the rain would wash away my confusion. I don’t like it. Not even one bit. And sometimes I do, and I want to be entrenched into this sweet sticky painful sickening feeling. 

I’m listening to Dream of a Drowned Submariner and thinking of a close friend who very conveniently is chilling at home and happily rubbing it in. The Heartbreaker misses you.

“From down in the vault, down in the grave
Reaching up to the light on the waves,
She did run to him over the grass,
She fell in his arms and he caught her
So went the dream of the drowned submariner
Far away on the water,
Far away on the water.”

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Yesterday


I miss a time long, long ago, and yet it feels like it was yesterday. I miss a world far, far away, and yet it seems like it’s right in front of me. Or is it? It is, right? Isn’t it?

I miss the negotiation of thoughts, I miss the careless flow of seemingly unimportant observations, I miss the natural flow of the unending chuckles, I miss the infinite pings and spurts.  I miss the flurry of emotions at a phone call, and peals of laughter after reading a text. I miss the sleepless nights and the restless days. I do not like the emotion running through me right now. I dislike the laughter in the hostel corridors; I hate the music wafting from the other room. I hate it when my eyes sting. I hate the gnawing gorge forming in my chest, and the hurtful stab in my gut. My days are breathless, a blurry array of countless activities. But the nights are hollow, throbbing with angst.

When you think you have nothing, it decides to give you everything. And when you finally realize you can have absolutely everything, it decides to take it all away from you. It takes some, it gives some. It gives all, and then takes it all away.

Well played, life. Well played. 

Monday, September 3, 2012

Now


Every face is beautiful. You just have to look close enough.

I sat in a group of 15 odd people in college during a meeting today, and looked at every face slowly. No face can ever, ever be ugly. There are the little things about them.  Stubby noses, long noses; curly hair, straight hair; big eyes, small eyes; pimples, smooth skin. The beauty lies more in the kind of expression they wear on their faces. I have been feeling continuous pangs of affection for all my friends. Such beautiful, beautiful people some of them are.

Sometimes I feel so fortunate it feels like a dream. It rained a lot today, and when I got out of my room to go to the mess and have dinner, a huge grin spread over my face. Yes. It was the same powerful gush of wind that blew my hair off my face, the familiar smell of roses, the puddles of water, tiny little chocolate frogs jumping all around me, green leaves, greener than the ones you’d have ever seen, and the familiar, smiling, welcoming faces of some of my closest friends. I literally walked through clouds today. They engulfed me as I walked towards the mess. As I held my umbrella tight. As I smiled at the laughter around me. As I looked at the moon shining down on me. Sometimes it becomes too overwhelming. Too breathtaking. And then you cannot help but just swallow that bubble rising from your chest and up your throat. That painful, lovely feeling you get when you look around you, and you grin like a hopeless baboon. You can’t help but fall in love.

If I could stop time, and expand it, limitlessly, I would. I simply cannot get over the sheer exquisiteness of this place. Life, you astound me.