The land of the sea, is one where every man is an island in him or herself!

                               I am writing this on a day, when I had a happy beginning, a good afternoon, a wonderful evening and a thoughtful night. This is the only time that I will be writing without mincing my words in the fear of hurting individuals...the reason being very simple, I'm not loosing my idealism, but I am letting go of trying to help everyone. So, this might just hurt, it might just pinch, it might just make u feel sorry for some people (wont name anyone, simply coz I believe that I can't ever stoop so low!).
                        The story starts with me moving to this crazy ass city, with all my ideals and hopes packed in my bag. I came here hoping that this would be different from my experiences in Delhi, and believe me it has been. People, and here I mean the general public of this city are wonderful and free and running in a rat race. I know, its sounds weird that this is wonderful, but it is due to the fact that they don't pretend to give a fuck, they are free because no one has the time or inclination to care or judge what someone else is doing, and in rat race because everyone works all day long, yet at the end of the day no one does it due to deriving satisfaction. A perfect example of what Marx believed would happen to our society, where the alienation would become so bad that one would not know where the personal and the professional end and begin.
                      In the rush and the crush of the crazy locals, I believed that I had some friends, one who seems as sweet as sugar, one who seems like fine old malt and the third seemed a fine coconut of a crazy hard outside, and a soft and lost inside. Of the three, today I can truly say, none are who they seem, yet they are all so perfectly fit for the mold I have just defined. The sweet is so sweet that I think I have diabetes, with the love that comes and goes in accordance to her needs, wishes, moods, and most importantly in accordance to what the "significant others" in her life tell her to do. So much for having a mind of your own, having a good judgement, having true emotions and some basic principles and ideals which would hold true no matter what.
                       Living with this could have been easy if the old malt didn't turn sour, and the coconut didn't break apart. But that would be asking for perfection wouldn't it. The old malt was never old malt. It was some really weird rum or maybe even beer covering up as old malt, and me being new to the scene could never know the difference. The realities and the taste kept changing in every 5 minutes, the messages left behind all washed away with the sea, and the meanings of the words changed with every new hour. The friend who can change and twist everything to suit his own means and needs...makes sense, given politics is his game!You never can be a good politician without promising the world to your listener and then giving them exactly what you deem fit, that is the lesson I was taught.Thank You for the invaluable wonderfulness old malt!!!
                             I think I was the worst hit by the breaking of the coconut, which revealed the empty hollowness outside. A coconut gets hard due to the seasoning, the weather, nature taking its toil. It is what I believed to this one too. Some harsh events, some sad disappointments, some break down of dreams, and a hard exterior extends. What I failed to take into account was that time corrodes and leaves nothing behind but the empty shell, and that is what i believed was the heart. The unbending, never understanding, having a life where nothing is sacrosanct anymore, is one who breaks you into pieces so small that you become the grain of sand that gets lost in the waves..... something that kind of resembles me, or something that I resemble right now.
                                  But i think the worst thing is that I fell for it, being a crazy kid that I am. Its not worth the trouble, people say that relationships are not that significant, and now I know why. I now know why people keep their heads bent and their eyes on where they are going only. Its easier to see the stone, whereas trusting someone to hold the light for you is always problematic, as then they can lead you down the road they want you to go down. I am lucky to have friends who care, and maybe I got greedy and wanted more, maybe we all have a quota and I have filled mine. I am not sorry that I have, and I thank god every day for the loved ones I have. And although this has been a tough and almost breaking point, I am gonna stick, hold my head high, but yes will hold my own lantern now, don't want the borrowed light! But i refuse to give up on my idealism, I will forever believe in my sweet, my malt and my coconut, and hope that someday, my wishes of what should be come true. Because, all I have are my somewhat cold and very tired ideals and beliefs, and on a hot stuffy afternoon, they are the only things that aid me to breathe, to survive, to keep moving on and be me....
An unashamed idealistic fanatic optimist!

loneliness: A simple yet loaded word!

                        One of the biggest perks of moving to a city like Mumbai has been that I am reading so much more, and I have my new college to thank for that. While reading Pico Iyer today, I came across the concept of lonely countries, where in his book he talks about countries who are lonely in their existence due to whatever reasons, be it China, or Vietnam, Cuba or Greenland, Australia or North Korea. It got me thinking of the saying, every man is an island in him/ her (since I am a modernistic 'female' writer) self. Every individual is alone, something I had never as strongly before as I do now coming to Mumbai. Someone asked me today, is one lonely because one does not have people to talk to, and does not know anyone?
                       I sadly used to believe that the loneliness that I was feeling was a result of actually being new to a city, something that was confirmed by the closest friend I now have in the city. Yet, Pico Iyer got me thinking, is my loneliness really a part of something as simple as relocating to a new city filled with strangers? If so, why was it that in Delhi I was not so lonely ever, even though then I was fresh out of school when I had moved there and had never been away from home before? Iyer was correct in his conclusion that each country is lonely in its own manner, and the reason for the loneliness is all based in the though process that is followed. This holds true for individuals too.

                                  I know of someone, who I cannot name, whom I have known for only a week or so. This person is a well established well placed individual in society, brought up in Mumbai and has god knows how many people as friends, yet every time I meet him, there is a sense of loneliness that prevails around him, a smile that never quiet reaches his eyes, everything that is said is with a pinch of cynicism yet idealistic, and it makes me wonder if he is more lonely in his own life than I am in this strangely fascinating city. This struck me especially, as this individual is someone who is a well known, (although not crazy well known) figure, and has a lot of well built and defined relationships, some perhaps that I can't even imagine! If loneliness is a plague that even he cant avoid, is there a hope for the rest of us?
                        There are a couple of friends that I know who have deliberately closed off a section of themselves to the world, the most significant one, making them even more lonely, something that I don't comprehend, but the reasons cited make sense, "its easier to smile and be happy than to let anyone in and loose mental peace" says one of my delusional mates. But is being lonely really peaceful? Not if you ask me, I miss my friends, my endless chatter, but more than anything else I miss belonging to someone, without any questions asked or any explanations given. Loneliness is a state of mind.....for me a perpetual reality right now!