Epiphany.

Some of you, dear readers would recall a certain Greek scholar, who was struck by a great realisation, as he dipped into a warm bath, that he ran around the streets naked, yelling, “Eureka, eureka.”

I always thought the man must have been mad. Till today. When I experienced the feeling for myself.

No, don’t get me wrong please. I’m not Greek, much less a scholar, and well, I am not guilty of practising any form of nudism. However, I have been struck by a realisation with great force. I’ve just had what is known as an epiphany.

Well, after I had posted some thoughts born of deep despair and gloom in my last post, my blogger friend, Corinne wrote something that hit with the intensity of a thunderbolt. I was struck speechless and realised the mistake that I had been making.

Thanks Corinne! You’re a wonder! :) And you’re absolutely right. I can’t tell you how touched I am by your gesture.

P.S. Another quote from Richard Bach:

Can miles truly separate you from friends... If you want to be with someone you love, aren't you already there?

There’s no such place as far away…

The last few days have been odd. Suddenly, from a hectic, bustling life, it seems as if I’ve been sentenced to solitary confinement. Seriously, it would be no exaggeration to say that I feel a little like ‘Linc the sink’ from Prison Break.

I was reading this old copy of ‘Illusions’ by Richard Bach – one of my favourite authors, and came across this line,

You're always free to change your mind and choose a different future, or a different past.

Is it really so? I know I would probably not want to choose a different past. Some of my major blunders in the past have taught me valuable lessons, that I wouldn’t want to part with. But, can I choose a different future? Can I take my life in the direction that I want to? Can I break away from the shackles of the present? Can I shake her out of her reverie, and make her realise that I love her? Can I choose a future of togetherness for us, Mr. Bach?

A soulmate is someone who has locks that fit our keys, and keys to fit our locks. When we feel safe enough to open the locks, our truest selves step out and we can be completely and honestly who we are; we can be loved for who we are and not for who we're pretending to be. Each unveils the best part of the other. No matter what else goes wrong around us, with that one person we're safe in our own paradise. Our soulmate is someone who shares our deepest longings, our sense of direction. When we're two balloons, and together our direction is up, chances are we've found the right person. Our soulmate is the one who makes life come to life.

Well, is that seriously true? If it is, then it means that she and I are soulmates. We care for each other, despite the distance between us. We pretend that there’s no chemistry, though the sparks fly each time we interact. Soulmates... is it really possible? I adore her, love everything about her. I could just spend a lifetime listening to her, or watching her smile at my clumsiness.

I feel uncomfortable and unclean, because there is some part of me that I’ve always kept hidden from her. She still thinks the world of me and it scares me.

She doesn't know that I keep pining for her, on those sleepless nights. She doesn't know I could do anything to be with her, even for a fleeting moment. She doesn't know that I replay each conversation we have, over and over again. Or does she?

Mr. Bach, you also said that ‘There’s no such place as far away.’

I wish that were true.

Delhi, O Delhi – An unplanned sequel

The last post I made, with a similar title, was rather misinterpreted by certain sections of society (read some of the regulars here :P).

I had not intended to indulge in Delhi-bashing at all. On the contrary, I love the city and get defensive/offensive every time someone says something derogatory about it. I don’t subscribe to the negative connotations people ascribe to ‘Dilli ki ladkiyan’ or ‘Delhi males’ either.

What I had meant to convey was that despite the idiotic auto-wallahs, pollution, traffic, chaos, and overall madness, I still adore the city. I’ve lived nearly one-third of my life in Delhi and well, I can’t think of a city that feels more like home. Nope, not even my home city – Chandigarh.

Given a choice, I would love to settle down in Delhi – the land of culinary delights, the land deep-rooted in history and enigma, the land filled with nice  and friendly people.

And of course, the amount of warmth and affection I have got in this city from various people is unparalleled.

If you, dear reader, are from Delhi, I’m sure you’ll understand what I’m talking about.

And if you, dear reader, are not from Delhi, then you really ought to come to Delhi and experience what I’m talking about.

Delhi, O Delhi…

I stretched my tired limbs as I got off the train. But I couldn’t take too long to stretch like a lazy cat. I had to watch over my precious luggage. After all, this was Delhi.

After wading through rows upon rows of seedy, betel-chewing men, offering rides in autos and taxis, I made it outside. (The tone in which they spoke made them more likely to be pimps than auto-drivers, so I stayed clear of them. After all, this was Delhi.)

Eventually, once outside, I breathed in the fetid air, and caught hold of a somewhat non-shady auto-driver. After bidding goodbyes to all friends and peers, this friend of mine and I sat down in the auto, having negotiated the necessary fare. (The auto-wallah claimed that the meter didn’t work. After all, this was Delhi.)

Right next to the station, there was a massive traffic jam with people honking all around. The prompt and worldly-wise auto-wallah promptly mouthed a few obscenities aimed at someone’s mothers and sisters, looked at us for support, and proceeded to carve out a route by going against traffic in a one-way lane. After all, this was Delhi.

The next day, at the bus stop, I saw the usual urchins leering at the pretty girls, the crowd rushing to get on to the already overflowing bus, the conductor trying to fit everyone into the bus, and passengers shoving others in. After all, this was Delhi.

And now, at midnight, as the dust settles, I look at the city lights twinkling merrily at me. I hear the sounds of the city, as it whispers to me. I hear its heartbeat, I hear its plaintive cries asking for relief from what we are doing to it. I feel one with it, I feel as if I belong…for, I am its soul.

After all, this is … Delhi!

Guess who’s back!

Thanks for all the exam wishes, people! I’m back, in my favourite city (Delhi) and at my favourite place (Bloggersville). The exams went by reasonably well – no surprises and no complaints. So, I guess I get to maintain my status as the class dimwit.

Anyway, it’s nice to be back and to be able to use the internet for non-academic purposes too.

Just because I haven’t been here for a while does not mean that my mind, which always harbours a maelstrom of thoughts has been quiet. If anything, it is more stirred up than ever.

I’m trying to figure out how it is possible for two people to love the same music, love the same music, love talking to each other, love the same hangout places, love spending time with each other, care enough to keep track of birthdays, exam dates, assignment dates and all sorts of random dates, but not be in love with each other.

In this context, there’s a wonderful quote that I came across a couple of days ago:

In the arithmetic of love, one plus one equals everything, and two minus one equals nothing.

P.S. Work on the template is still in progress. I kinda like this one for its simplicity and clarity. Will ensure that it is fixed soon.