Farewell

Alright children.

Time to say Goodbye from here. Its Alvida, Adieu, Ciao etc etc...

I know I sound very kurt here, but again circumstances define who you are and how you act! :)

A new blog has been started in lieu of this one, and the ramblings go on there and not here.

Oh, and also, it is one of those "only by invitation" blogs, so send in a mailer if I didn't include you there... Will surely do that!!*

* Conditions apply....

Cheers n Happy reading

What comes next

What comes next?!!

Are you happy?, Her eyes ask,
Yes, I lie, turning away,
Trying to avoid those eyes,
Who am I kidding?
You can see thru to my soul,
Yet I pretend,
And put up a façade,
A happy face,
What comes next?
Useless drama, more trauma,
Joke more, she is around,
My brain sends the signal,
She cant realise that I still miss her,
Speak to all, but her,
Like that would turn the indifference to love!
Stop, stop loving her,
My friends implore,
So I lie to them too,
I am soooooo over her,
I boast!
What comes next?
Rum, beer and whiskey I toast,
What a mistake she was!
Oh, how I loved her,
She walks by, provides me a half smile,
I smile at her and then smirk at my friends,
Saving my ego, she saw that,
Does she still care? Did she ever?
What a joke I have become,
Run over by love, I am the scum,
City lights seem dull,
And I can’t sleep,
Because I am on the truth finding mission,
Yes that’s the excuse this time,
For wrapping myself in your memories,
No more, no more tears,
Haven’t yet fell out,
Unsolicited advises still flow,
No more, no more post mortems,
What lies ahead then?
I don’t want to see,
I am busy at where we were last year.
And I don’t want to leave,
Cant exist nowhere else,
And I wont leave,
Not yet!
What comes next?
I don’t know.

-Meghna
25/10/2008
08:26pm.

The War Prayer

I feel at war, living in a battleground,
Where every man is for himself,
And the women alone,
Compassion nowhere to be found,
Mates vs. mates, friends of yesterday foes today,
Back stabbing, and stalking,
So much hate, in the hearts of the young ones,
No one questions this state of war,
No one has the time from self defence,
To think of the fellow man who might be helpless,
You huddle in groups, trying to create a comfort zone,
You move in gangs, fighting skills is what you hone,
Strangely, we were brothers in arms,
The band of brothers, now stands disbanded,
We stand as mercenaries,
Alone against adversaries,
I pray to God, for strength,
For this to end,
Ah, the blessed survival instinct kicks in,
And Kicks me, who else stands to lose?

Meghna
Written over the sorry state of affairs...

I dreamt of God

I dreamt of God....

:)

I dreamt of god last night,
In my dream, me and god sat and talked,
He asked me why did in my prayer I say,
That I will give up anything to have him,
I said, “God, I am hopelessly in love”,
That “I need him or else I will die”,
Wouldn’t that make everything else redundant?
God, he smiled, and so did I,
He then asked me, looking deep into my eyes,
He said, “Anything? Even your writings?”
Trying to seal the deal, I jumped, “Yes!, take it God”
“Take it now”, I pleaded,
As his smile faded,
I grew apprehensive,
I angered Him! I thought,
He asked, “ All right my darling,
Tell me this then, allow me your answer,
Would you relinquish your sense of humour too?”
The thing that brings smiles to many,
The source of laughter in your life, as of others,
Even mine, would you give up - “
A vehement “Yes” cut God short.
He didn’t seem startled at all,
He kind of was expecting it,
He was God after all, he knoweth all,
God asked “Why would you make such a sacrifice?,
For what my love, for a boy?” seemed obvious enough,
I said,” for I am nothing without him,
I am nothing but a consortium of his memories,
And I promised myself,
That I would get him for me,
And I would make the necessary sacrifices,
Without blinking an eyelid,
No matter how grand they seem.
God blinked, I didn’t know he did that,
He stared; I think he was giving me time to reconsider,

God drew close, and he whispered in my ear,
“Let me tell you a little secret, my dear”
I grew curious, god wants to share his secrets with me?
Honoured, I nodded. He said,
“the secret is about you”
I titled my head like a well trained dog,
God said, “in a parallel universe,
I had asked a girl a similar question,
But she was different, she was with this boy she was so in love with,
She was fond of him, of her as was he,
They seemed happy to me,
But their request unsettled me, as I was by yours today,
The girl was you, no doubt,
My darling, that girl was you and the boy was he,
But you lived sans laughter, sans creativity,
You had him, but nothing else,
You had none as friend, as confidante,
And you cried every night because of it,
And you prayed, and he prayed with you,
To help you find laughter, and to find something inspired,
And that night, you made this pact with me,
To give him up, for this life that you live now,
You gave each other up,
To be able to find what you have now.”
God paused, “See my lovely, you already are living your wish”
And I realised that night, as I bid God goodbye,
That I am living my dreams.
Lucky me, I am living my dreams.


30th august, 2008
00:42 pm

With this post, I hope not to offend anyone as that wasnt my intention as I wrote it. But if I did, I am sorry.

Ramblings..

I have this overwhelming feeling of emptiness, and it has engulfed me for the past few days. I cannot express it well enough to understand it. Even the company of friends doesnt take it away from me. I havent felt quite this way in a long time, and thats why the return of such a feeling of blackness scares me. I know the destructive power of this feeling, I know the kind of command it has over me and subsequently my life. And I know that this feeling is something I most certainly do not invite into my space. But I dont know what to do, how to over come this, how to conquer this. Hence, I chose the path of passive resistance, which is writing. I write, day in and day out. And that saddens me further because it reminds me of things i have lost, people- friends i have lost and the shreds of paper i have lost, the paper on which I poured my heart out. And, this feeling also means the augment of a lesser pleasant me.

Give Me

I realised today, I m a hopeless romantic. I know my friends call me passionate, but romantic... that too a die hard and hopeless one... I do love 'love'. I have conversations with it almost everyday.... You want to know what I say to love... Read on!!!


GIVE ME....

Give me some inspiration love, you have always found ways to do that,
Give me something to write of, because I m nothing if not my words,
Give me some one to sing my songs to, someone, anyone,
Because the worst death my words can have is to go unheard.

Give me some thing to wake up for, even on the early Monday mornings,
Give me some words to wrap myself in, because they would remind me of him,
Give me some jitters again, some more moments of breathlessness,
Give me my fool’s paradise, my little place of being blissfully dumb.

Oh love, give me some one pure, someone to share myself with,
Give me someone beautiful, someone I can let enter my soul,
Give me a secret; let him be a secret to the world,
Give me someone charming, someone who can make me whole.

Give me his strong arms, to fall into when I feel weak,
Give me a beautiful smile, that will make my heart jump with joy,
Oh love, give me the happiness, give me the love of my life,
Give this little girl, her little lover boy,

Oh love, give me a reason to smile, a reason to survive,
Oh love, give me my prince, the prince of my magical kingdom,
Give me a heart full of love, and a head full of dreams,
Oh love, give me the song of my heart, a song to hum.

(Cant remember the date....But is Pretty Recent!!!)

Brother, Oh Sweet Brother Of Mine...

Okay, I know I should be studying for the mid term exam that is tomorrow morning, but I cannot help but write this. Especially after having cried the “khushi ke aansu” twice today, like an itsy bitsy baby clutching the cardboard box (it shall explain itself later)…

Around a year ago, I joined this place of higher learning. And I met a lot of people, some good folks, some not so good folks, and some very special persons, possessing the rarest and purest of souls. One of them (yes I have the pleasure of knowing more than one.) is Sumeet Rathore aka Rats aka Bhai aka Yudhistar – tho he doesn’t know about most of these (his) nicknames!!! Butt the phenomenon that is Sumeet, Mature, Understanding, Sweet, Loving, Caring… I know it sounds like his testimonial but cant help but reiterate the fact that Eiffel tower is very tall, Sholay is a hit and Taj Mahal is in India!!! :D

Moving onnn…..

So, why this sudden surge of emotion? He has pretty much been the same person over the last year…right!!! So background first: I call him bhai, and also did the usual tying of rakhi last year anddd…. I, being the totally self centred person that I am, forgot to do that this year.

IMAGINE!!! He should be angry right? Annoyed, infuriated.. etc etc… Nothing at all.. He actually gave me a gift instead!! A box of chocolate that too… chocolate!!!! :D :D (see photo, me holding the cardboard box, which I still have preserved tho the chocolates are long gone.. damn you boys!!!)
Talk about love… Imagine he actually went to the store, thought of me, bought me a gift.. It makes all the difference to me- that he conferred upon me such love….

(Okay crying bout no.3 coming along…. )

I mean I don’t know what I did to deserve such brothers… But I m sure glad I did it… tho it does make me feel like the scum feeding on the parasite at the bottom of some lake… Super Duper nice people- MAHA caring… : ) And then there is me...!!!

This one is for you sumeet, I know it’s a bit juvenile and all.. but it’s the emotion that counts right!!!

Brother brother brother of mine,
You make me float on cloud number nine,
Brother O’ mine, you are so sweet,
It took us so long to meet,
Oh brother of mine, I m nothing if I compare,
To the love you give me and the care,
Hey brother of mine, tho we aren’t related by blood,
We have a bond that will pass the test of time, it would!!
So please never forget me ever,
With love, your sister…

(Crying session no.4 comes to an end... :D)

A happy Rakhi to all... :)

I think you know

Since am still not writing anything worthy of an audience, let me post this for you: A poem written about a year ago, by a girl for a boy she fell in love with. Sweet little thing called love we all have to go through I guess.






I think you know...


I think you know, I think you know,
By the way I look at you,
I think you know, I think you know,
That I care for you so.

Staying up all night together,
I wanna stay in that moment forever,
I wanna know everything about you,
Everything you wanna let me know.

I think you know, I think you know,
When you look into my eyes,
I think you know, I think you know,
That I’m falling for you tonight,

Every hug, every wink, every flying kiss,
Goes on over and over in my head,
When you whisper sweet nothings to me,
It says what you left unsaid.

I think you know, I think you know,
I was dead until I met you,
I think you know, I think you know,
I’m never gonna let you go.

Cos I love you like crazy,
I always will, my baby.

5/8/2007

Bye Bye Wordie...

So, my laptop has somehow lost every word that I had ever written. Gasp!!! Yes, gasping would be the correct emotion right now.

Every poem, every journal entry, every word, every picture, every video...everything that had any emotion attached to it. (Incidentally the only things not deleted are SPSS installers and games.) My entire last year, was on this laptop.

Things I had written, things I had created, things- words that I had nurtured and shared with others, creating a bond with these 'readers', things that cannot be recreated. Things that I thought I would be showing to my children and their children, things that I would not show to anyone, things I had written only for me...all gone.

I always thought that if you do lose these works you can always rewrite them. But that is, as i have realised, IMPOSSIBLE. I cant bring myself to write again. I cant even start afresh. I always did consider the words as my children, and the loss is inexplicably depressing.

I, somehow, always thought the words would succeed me. And not vice versa. This has to be the worst nightmare of any writer. And here I am, living one nightmare after the other. I truly have lost myself...

This post is almost a half hearted goodbye for my sabbatical/hiatus or whatever the kids are calling it these days.

This post is to say goodbye dear Wordies, and thank my friends who have given me words of encouragement and more importantly who have given me inspiration to write... I bow!

Till the next post, let me mourn this, the best I can.

My Obituary

My Obituary

After my death don’t tell everybody,
That I was a shining star,
Brightest in the night sky,
That I was perfect, that I didn’t deserve to die.

Tell them I wasn’t good,
I wasn’t all that bad,
I was a difficult child,
Right from the start.

Don’t make excuses for me,
That negates my existence,
Don’t tell them I was precious,
Don’t bring them to farce tears.

Here I am already writing,
What I want in my obituary,
So that when I’m gone,
It’s one less thing for you to worry.

Maybe a few years later,
I’ll realise who I was,
Maybe I didn’t realise my potential,
And I didn’t realise my curse.

You say I’m emotional,
That I don’t think things through,
I thought this through,
And still made no sense to me,
Does it to you?

11/11/2006
10.05pm

One year of togetherness

One year of togetherness

















A year ends, our first year together,
A year ends, from the first time we met,
A year ends, of our innumerable fights,
A year ends, and it leaves me upset.

Another year for us to stay under the same roof,
Another year and we will never again meet,
Another year for me to learn to walk on my own,
Another year for me to realise that I can’t.

And after this time, I will never write this way,
I will never have the inspiration to,
After these two years, I will be a little wiser,
And I will learn to love incognito.

And still, I will miss you,
Because you have become family for me,
Because it’s hard to wake up alone,
For, I will still be in love.


Meghna
12.50 am
10th March

Goodbye

Two years ago, a friend of mine died in a road accident. This is for him...

Goodbye

Goodbye seems to be the hardest word,
Especially if you don’t get to say it.
I try and remember the last time,
I talked to you Sid.

I think I was a bit a rude,
Snobbish even, to you,
You took it in your stride,
I wish I could be so cool.

Here’s a final goodbye,
My friend.
Hope you rest in peace buddy,
Hope you weren’t alone in the end.


May 17th, 2006
11.05pm
Siddharth- you deserved better.
[RIP]

I be Juliet again

I be Juliet again?

I be Juliet again?
I falleth again,
I loveth again,
I waiteth,
In the, for the anticipation,
In the, for the expectations…
Cometh the hour…
where is the man…?

I waiteth again,
For the unknown,
For the un-understood,
For the unforeseen.
I hopeth,
For the man of my dreams,
For my Romeo,
However roadside he may be

Has it really happened?
Have I fallen in love,
Yet again?
And yet again I giveth him no time,
I jump to silly conclusions,
I jump in tandum,
As the butterflies in my stomach jump,
Yet again?

So what’s new with this one,
Havent met him yet,
That should restrict me greatly,
I need restriction such as these,
For it confines my destructive powers too,
Habitual destructor I am,
Habitual romantic I am,
I falleth again.

What about the old one?
Do I forget the lovers lost so far,
The battles of love lost to them,
How do I face them again,
That too soon,
In june,
What if he is there too,
And what if he isn’t?

Oh, is he my new muse?
Does he need know that?
What if he freaks,..
What if I be his muse too?
He writes too, he laughs too,
He does all that I do,
Does that mean I do all that to him,
That he does to me?

He’ll be here soon,
With my ticket to heaven,
With a movie and a dinner,
With a cuppa coffee and a little more,
With a few smiles for me,
That I’ll steal from his lips,
With a little more than him,
He comes, packing away my loneliness.
(For) He cometh, with a lonely heart too.

25th march 08,
1.30 am

Disclaimer: Any resemblance to creatures of the homo-sapiens kind is purely coincidental. Dont ask who, why and when! Let this be my poetic license

Things I live by

Some quotations that inspire me and why...Just wanted to give you some random thoughts of mine...

One of the reasons why people hold on to memories so tight is because memories are the only thing that doesn’t change when everyone else does.
-Anonymous

Some lines, quotes, excerpt mean more to you than others. They seem tailor made for you, so that you can understand your own situation better. The one written above is for me. I seem to go on and on and over and over the same feelings and memories and Kodak moments for certain people, just wondering and questioning what exactly went wrong there. The answer is easy, and now so in my face. People change. They changed. The end.


If you have only one smile in you, give it to the people you love. Don't be surly at home, then go out in the street and start grinning 'Good morning' at total strangers.
-Maya Angelou

There was a phase in my life, not many years ago, that I would go to sleep a crying, whimpering bitch and wake up an angry, fetid bitch. And I made the life of my loved ones a living hell. I resented them, I screamed at them and I blamed them for not understanding what goes on in my head- when I knew they had no way of knowing that. Every time I think of that time, I feel like I had let my family down. So, one breezy Sunday morning I read this quote, and I decided to follow it till the day I die.


Always try to find out where the inspiration of your heroes comes from, i.e., who inspires those who inspire you, who do your heroes look up to.
-Jon Bon Jovi
If my memory serves me right, it was JBJ on The Oprah Winfrey Show, who said the above lines. It was then I began my journey to know Maya Angelou, because she is one of the people who inspire Oprah herself. And it is not only true what JBJ said, but it also transformational. It changes the way you think, when you realise your hero has a hero. Or in fact when your Shero has a Shero. (Shero is She-Hero, a term coined by Maya Angelou)


You will be surprised at what you can live with.
-Dr. James Wilson, in House
I think I have already written a bit on this… http://meggs-knows-best.blogspot.com/2008/01/finding-meghu.html

Is pretty much self explanatory.

Things I live by...at least I try...

Over-Looked

I am sure most of you all know that my summer internship is at Maruti Suzuki. Well if you weren’t in coma on 11th October 2007, then you would most definitely know. Well for those fortunate souls who don’t know me, I announce every minute detail and change in my life to the world. But this one, the “getting-through-to-and-celebrating” MS went, well, a little out of hand. Let’s just say the adrenaline got the best of me and I was shouting, “Maruti here I come” much to the amusement of many and the embarrassment of one: Pranks. But not that is a pivotal detail at all. So, one fine Monday morning two weeks ago-after 6 months of waiting in the wings, finally- I reached the gates of the Gurgaon plant. And hence began the roller coaster ride of an internship called the MS trainee program.



You see that big MARUTI SUZUKI sign in the pic. Seems inescapable doesn’t it? But I totally missed it. Till now, that is till two weeks into the program. I had Over-Looked it. And today as I stood across the road from it, I did finally see it. And I mean SEE IT. For a few moments I couldn’t take my eyes off the sign. It’s not that gigantic, or well ornate or flashy. But I just could not take my eyes off it. I finally did, only because I had to scan the road to see if my car had shown up yet. It hadn’t. And so I went back to admiring the sign as I would admire a muse- the way I would run my eyes all through the object of my attention, how I would carefully note and relish in its presence. Or how I would see a beautiful little child- and realise the fact that they all are beautiful. Or how would I see even a chocolate cake after a long dieting period- how I would savour its smell and its texture and the taste. And I stood there, across the busy and bustling old gurgaon road, almost as if I had come face to face with my creator. Well, MS isn’t my creator but is my ‘feeder’ for the next two months. And literally as well, not just the “feeds my family cos it pays me” bit…
If I sit and think of my reaction, it was of total awe, over awed even, enamoured, bewitched yet bewildered as to how could I have missed this sign. It was big and right above the front gate. Wasn’t too high, in fact I had noticed the Pseudo Bridge behind it. And yet I blimely unaware of its existence.
And its strange how this giant corporation with numerous accolades to its name- which we were intimidated a number of times during the 2 day orientation- could so simply and aptly be summed up into two words. That’s what it is supposed to be? The name of a product, or a brand – it’s the summary of the product. Plainly, the sign is the summation, bearing the logo of the Indo-Jap joint venture. So much energy, money, people… all signified by this sign.
And so, I stood there for almost five odd minutes, before I decided to click the picture. Because the moment seemed note-worthy. Like a young suitor had just realised that the untidy, unbeautiful, old rag wearing, formerly flat chested slave girl was actually the woman of his dreams.
I wonder, how much I looked at that sign today...for how long...how Over-Looked it became again...
And I wondered, realised and came to the conclusion, of how absent minded I really am.
And I still am over-awed and enamoured by the simple sign that reads, “MARUTI SUZUKI”.

A pinch of Hope, a dash of Faith...

A friend of mine told me recently that he is an atheist. And I thought, “Good for you. It’s a matter of personal choice and motivation and I am happy that you have found what you believe in or not believe in”. He doesn’t believe in love either. Goes to the extent to say it doesn’t exist. Doesn’t exist?? I really do wonder does he mean love doesn’t exist in totality or if it doesn’t exist for him. If he means it doesn’t exist for him; most people would say- 'give it time'. It will come to you. But if he doesn’t believe in it in totality then the probability that love comes to him and he just passes it by because he is oblivious, are high. And then again, what do you mean by love not existing. Don’t your parents love you? They love you for the fact that you are you. They care for you as you do for them. They respect you and the person you are and they accept you. They love you unconditionally- without conditions, without ifs and buts, without seeing what they get in return. And that’s the definition of love isn’t it? Well, in a typical MBA-like/MBA-student/brainwashed MBAite lingo, love is nothing but a cluster of emotions, which manifests itself when met with appropriate stimuli. So, love does exist. Love is same across all boards. They way you express it differs. Ex:- Your parents and a lover. Different category and different expressions of your love. And so, just shunning this feeling and/or this cluster of feelings as non-existential seems child-like.
The funny part is that I expected and assumed this person to be mature while he seems like the opposite of it. He is almost child-like in his shunning of “love”. Reminds me of toddlers, "out of sight out of mind". Things don’t exist till they are in the immediate vicinity. Lack of concentration, preoccupation with the present and now, call it whatever you wish. Seems like my friend is the same. Love probably isn’t in the immediate surroundings, i.e., doesn’t exist.

Okay, so controversial topic number 2: God.
I can understand what my friend is talking of here. Love I always believed in. God was something different. I was an agnostic till a few months back. Actually as hysterically funny as it sounds, I found my God when I started my MBA. I don’t know the reason. Maybe I was out of doors to knock on when I entered MBA. And hence the obvious door and also the obvious answer. Or maybe I went through things – mainly pertaining to the issue discussed before this – and was forced to rethink my stand. Whatever it may be, I found my God and subsequently I found my faith.
Love and God mean the same to me. They signify faith. They signify hope. Believing in God, for me, is necessary because you need faith, you need belief in something other than you. Perhaps even your family would suffice. If you have enough faith in them, well…nothing like it then. But then again, they too are mere mortals, prone to wrongs and mistakes like the rest of us. However that’s not the point. The point is that you need hope. That’s how we survive. That’s how I survive. In the hope that tomorrow is a better day, that tomorrow brings me a day closer to my MBA degree, to my dreams. That tomorrow brings with it a better string of words, inspirations to work on and muses to gush about. That tomorrow’s advent will mean the end of today. And so I survive...in this almost insulated world of hope and faith and romanticism.

Synchro-Destiny

The pic is what I found when I googled my name...

There are no co-incidences in life, and so I wonder...

I don't exactly spend my days now wondering how, if at all, m I connected to this.

Synchro-destiny?? Perhaps!!

A Few Good Poems

This poem is un-named for reasons which will be obvious to some... wrote it almost two years ago. My internship begins today and i feel somewhat empty because i m going in with a clean slate- which is both good and bad. But knowing that you are only what you do/perform/ in terms of results, is somehow a little hard to swallow. Communist tendencies have always harbored in me... :D

Empty shell
Empty well
Empty is the word I know,
Empty is everywhere I go.
Emptiness,
Empty flesh,
My empty cup,
Empty love
Empty I pray
In the empty day,
And empty night
An emptier life.


1st April, 2006
1.05pm.

May it be...

this one is not mine but reflects what i feel at the moment...each line raises a question that had lived within me; but never had it shown itself...don't know who wrote it but its the OST of LOTR...

May it be an evening star

Shines down upon you

May it be when darkness falls

Your heart will be true

You walk a lonely road

Oh! How far you are from home

...

A promise lives within you now...

Confessions of a Relationship schizophrenic

This blog is in relation to an older blog "iJargon". I now attempt to write a sort of a rehab introduction / testimonials... Have a fun read!!

Confessions of a Relationship schizophrenic:
Hi, I am Meghna Singh and I am losing my mind. I have RS. It makes you believe that you have relationships with certain people when they don’t really exist. For eg, to consider yourself a friend of someone whilst they don’t hold similar opinions. I don’t know what causes it or how its cured but I do know the destructive power of this disease. You are, at most times, left wondering what exactly went wrong… How could have this happened?... whether you were wrong? And here you’ll see the malice of this condition. It makes you go into these dialogues which are unnecessary, irrelevant and amusing at best. But at the end of the day, because of your inability, your sheer incapacity, to understand and appreciate what you have or what you could have had, you are single-mindedly focused on what was never there. And for how long can you stagnate on the same place, thing, memory…? Although I am not opposed to stagnation per se. It can help you at times. It can force people to do things that they would never do, things that wouldn’t happen otherwise. It can jolt you. I do however have the morbid fear of change. But that’s a topic for another day.

RS, is a powerful condition. It gives and takes so much, it gives you memories. But, the poor you, don’t realise that these memories are at best imaginations of your incapacitated mind.

Memories, on their own, are painful. To think memories that exists only in your head. Which have no relevance in the ‘real’ world… imagine the pain they bring? Thats the sheer magnitude of this ulceric of a condition.And so I exist…I exist in pain… I exist in memories. In my Jack/Derek/Ryan’s love.

(in relation to feb 5th blog)

The how’s and whys of my writing(s)

A lotta people have been asking me why I write the way I write...so here's the only answer I have!!!

Alanis Morrisette, the queen of pain, the one singer and writer that I think writes for me. No matter what I am feeling, I am sure I’ll find a Alanis song that totally captures what I feel. And somewhere I feel my writing style is greatly influenced by her.
(Alanis is someone I hope to be, that one day I can write a truly beautiful song like the many she has penned down.)
You know why? Because she is a happy person who writes painful songs. Doesn’t mean she’s sad or depressed but its something that comes naturally to her. Even songs of love are somehow related to sadness. And she derives all of this from her life. On Oprah she said she’s been in some really toxic relationships, and her inspiration to write stems from there. And that’s totally me. A happy person who has had a lot of rejections, and that somewhere she keeps on wondering why, and in a bid to answer them keeps writing about them. Not that I spend my life pondering but every time I sit down to write, its something that would come naturally to me. The words flow, almost oozing out, without me even knowing at times how much vendetta I have let trickle down.
Somehow its important for me to do so. Because if I don’t let it out then it stays within me, which is far worse. Its better to let a little out, now isn’t it?

I have recently realised I write in almost a trance. I write so “in the moment” that sometimes its astounding. If I go back to some songs I wrote (lets say a week ago), I'll surprise myself with certain lines, prose, pain that I have penned down.
But all I write, is in almost knee-jerk way, I have been writing this way since I was 10 or 11 years old…I remember my first song…it was about thunder…it went something like this..

“Sometimes I wonder,
why does rain come, Why does thunder,
Is it almighty’s anger
Or is it his tummy rumbling with hunger?”

I know it isn’t a literary masterpiece but I liked my thought process, the "innocent questions" as Ron says I ask (still asking).
I write because it’s in my DNA…my father is a poet as well. We are a family full of HR-poets who are also LOL’s!!!
My (silly and almost slapstick) sense of humor is from my mum and my writing ability, and if I may be so bold to say, my prose, is from my dad, who like me, writes of love and all things irrational. We don’t do creative writing. And the interesting part is the one parent that should be writing, the master’s degree holder in literature, has never even attempted to write. Neither does the lawyer write. Although he reads a LOT, and has a brilliant command over the language, but he has never penned down a thing. Strange isn’t it?!!

My influences, further are, the few beautiful people I have the good luck of knowing, of loving even. Though many of them I have wronged like no else, and have no right to write of, yet I do dare. And sometimes I realise how blessed I am to have known these souls, for having written things which I am proud to call mine.

So I thank you, Alanis, my inspiration and my friends and my muse(s), and I thank life for giving me this instrument of expression.

:)

Empty

Back by popular demand....A song I wrote when I twenty...Still holds true!

Empty

It all seemed easier, when I was a kid,
They said you should dream, and I did.

I saw a dream and built my life around it,
It seemed enough and thats all that counted.

It feels too soon, too soon to end it here,
I shouldn’t have to live like this, like a failure.

I lose a part of myself, every time I cry,
I lose hope every time my tears run dry.

My heart’s heavy and yet it feels empty,
I have nothing…that’s when I am twenty.

I have nothing, no one it seems,
No I don’t even have a dream,
I don’t even have a chance to make it all better.

I cant talk about it but I can cry,
I cant talk about it but I can die,
I cant talk about it but I can write,
I cant talk about it and its alright.


30th nov,2005
6.45pm
‘I feel like I have lost my soul’

The outsider

okay, so I am pretty sure we all have felt like the outsider once in our life at least (...or even more frequenlty for some poor souls...)...like when ur parents are having the "grown-up" talk or when u meet friends of a friend, whilst they share an insider joke....
And m sure most of them are not on purpose. But it makes me wonder...am i really 'in'? Do i really have friends or a just a bunch of people i hang around with,.. no offenses to any of my existing pals/sons/nemsis...
here's what I feel....at times...

The outsider

I feel like the outsider, who hopes to belong,
I feel like the little kid, who waits to be involved,
I feel left out, on purpose at times,
I feel forgotten, which worsens my wounds,

At times I feel like a horrible person,
With me, nobody wants to be,
Sometimes I wish I was invisible,
And I realise I already am.

I feel inadequate, when he’s around,
I feel unhappy, when I have to sit it all out,
I feel unsure about my demeanour,
Sometimes I feel angry at my sense of humour,

So many times I stayed away,
So that I can be out of his way,
And I see the appreciation when I do so,
And now I know what he wants me to do.

Meghna....
March 3rd, 2008.
A slightly abriged version on my orkut profile...because I use 'he' in a very loaded sense- he is all of you. He is humanity, if it still exists.

Assumptions

I love assumptions. I always did, as I realised today. Only I didn’t/ couldn’t put a finger on it. I used to, when faced by a seemingly silly situation, go into a monologue which sounded something like this, “what exactly is he/she/they thinking?” or “does he/she think I have nothing better to do in my free time than to talk about him/her with XYZ”. And in most probability these questions would be followed by an “As If!!!”.
I think this derives from my interest in psychology- I like to know how, why and what people think; how they reach conclusions which seem logical to them but utterly senseless and even hideous in many-a-situations.
Since I have given the historical framework (yawn!!) for my fascination with assumptions lets get our hands dirty. The assumptions I am rambling about, that happened this morning, were that of a professor. For the sake of creating an utter chaos and dis-clarity in your heads I shall call this professor as A. After having discussed my abysmal performance in class, ‘it’ (continuing with my effort to confuse you!!)…’it’ enquired about my summer placements. Maruti, I replied with great pride only to be met with a self-satisfying smirk and an almost snide remark about if I had landed that through a personal contact.
And the fun part was that there wasn’t even an ‘or’ followed by the question. There was no doubt in A’s head about my inability to score a good company for myself. And yes, it does seem I’m stretching it out of proportion, but let’s consider the case facts. It knows that I am a lacklustre performer. It knows my father can, if needed, can get me a decent enough placement. And the framing of the question itself. Better option after asking ‘where’ could have been ‘how’. Simple, sweet, non-humiliating.
And hence, the assumption was : this gal ain’t one of them HiPo’s, although she is a HIPPO!!! Must have had her dad pull some good strings…who else, why else would someone take her. OUCH!!!!!
Hypothesis interest me. And I interest some peculiar hypothesises.
Meenu sad :(

*Meenu-reference: Innu (taare zameen par blog!!!)

Death of a Dream

Okay, so here is a 'rare' dedication: -this song... I orignally wrote this about a year ago, when my CAT Scorecard came in, which wasnt exactly the best reflection of my talents ;)

But today I dedicate this not to my scorecard, but to me, and to the chosen few who have heard this song, and to the minority who even liked it. And with this I wish to toast "the begining of the end" of a certain hegemony.

Death of a dream

How does it feel when something inside you dies,
Nobody knows when your soul cries.
You live wishing you could be happy for a little while,
You muster up all your strength just to smile.

People want their pain to leave, but I’m different,
You see, pain is my Sheppard,
It’ll take me to my destiny,
I just hope it’s not as painful as the journey.

The death of a dream is a hard fact to face,
But dying dreams are a part of my reality, my space,
I cry a little when I am alone,
I guess everyone has heard me doing so.

I cry the day to end, and I cry for it to begin.
I cry when people look at me,
And I’ll cry if they didn’t.

Oh what a blessed day, oh what a blessed night,
Oh, why this blessed life is such a fucking delight!

5 feb, 2007.
9 pm

A Question about Love....

wrote this when I was 18... I have grown since but these questions still hold true... And I still search for the answers... But more importantly I search...STILL...

An amalgamation of love songs

If I close my eyes,
Will you be there?
If I went forever,
Will you be scared?
After all this and more,
Will you still care?

When I ask you,
To clutch this moment,
For ever and never let go,
Can you see, feel, touch,
And yet never show?
And yet never…..
I wish I could explain,
But then, even I don’t know.

Why is this happening,
To us, you and me,
With it, when you have,
Nothing to do,
Why am I torturing you,
You ask,
Why are you,
Is the answer I give you.


8th October 2003.
Previously known as “questions”

I didnt know...

Love teaches you a hell lot of things....here's what I learnt!!!

I didn’t know…

I said I didn’t know love till I knew you,
But I didn’t even know hate, till I knew you,
Cos I haven’t yet seen such despise in anyone’s eyes,
That I see now in yours and in mine.

In reality I knew nothing up till now,
I didn’t know jealousy, I didn’t know faith,
I didn’t know anger, I didn’t know insanity,
I had never been driven to such lengths.

I hadn’t known the malevolence of my soul,
The ugly soul that I have, the evil thoughts it harbours,
I didn’t know the weakness of my character,
The coward that is I, the way it wants you to suffer.

I didn’t know I was going to fall for someone,
For someone so wrong, someone I would never have,
And be bruised for life, shattered and broken down,
I didn’t know I would learn and abandon love.

I didn’t know that you really haven’t lived until,
You have loved someone with all your heart and soul,
I didn’t know the emptiness within me, the hollow me,
The incomplete I was waiting for you to make me whole.

Funny thing about that is now I am emptier than before,
Burnt, scared, and determined never to fall again,
Enraged and vengeful, almost proud of my new self,
And so I choose a life of not happiness but pain.


31st January 2008.
Something snapped inside of me; can’t figure out what it is.

To Be With Him....

Okay, so tis the night before Valentine....

and i just need to celebrate everything and anything that comes my way....

so here's dedicating this poem for the believers and non-believers!!

TO BE WITH HIM

That chiselled body, that enduring smile,
To be with him, I’d walk a thousand miles.

To be with him, I’d give my all,
Just to be there when he wakes up and yawns.

I’d destroy myself for him, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
And rise like the phoenix, just to be able to press my nose to his chest.

The shakier his hand gets, the stronger I will be.
Every time he thinks he stands alone, my heart will bleed.

I live for the moments that take my breath away,
Ever since he came, that’s been happening everyday.

To be with him, I’ll do everything it takes,
I’ll stay away from him too; burn my love at the stakes.

My addiction grows every day,
My affliction pains even more,
My love stays oblivious,
Of his own allure.

Meghna
2nd nov, 2007.
11 pm

*is one the most romantic things i have written so far.

iJargon...

Here are a few terms that I have come up with through my experiences and experiments with the human interactions that I so seldom have.

Relationship Schizophrenia:-

Schizophrenia, FYI, is a psychiatric diagnosis that describes a mental illness characterized by impairments in the perception or expression of reality, most commonly manifesting as auditory hallucinations, paranoid or bizarre delusions or disorganized speech and thinking in the context of significant social or occupational dysfunction. Onset of symptoms typically occurs in young adulthood. Diagnosis is based on the patient's self-reported experiences and observed behavior.

So basically you are hallucinating but about relationships. That means you would assume you would have certain level of relationship with someone while from their side it does not exist. It only exists in your head. E.g., thinking you are close to a person when you are not. Also to hear what you want to out of those people. Like if they try to say that they can care for another person and not you, and that there is a difference in their behaviour about the two of you, you misconstrue it as they care about you and not the other person. Their subtlety and compassion will be concocted as love, affection, companionship.
So while in your mind the standard of friendship is different. Again refer to the last bit of the definition- onset is young adulthood. Since this phenomena of RS is related mainly to love and friendship, I think the age frame is appropriate.
Also, you will in most probability not realise that you have this till you have the proof of the same, i.e., it has to be pointed out to you.


Psychological Elbowing:-

A term I picked up from basketball, or is at least closest to. Elbowing would be trying to upset the other team’s player who is checking you by thrusting/ shoving your elbow into his ribs or stomach or face. The idea is to irritate him, to push him out of his comfort zone, to upset his focus. Basically it’s doing whatever is necessary to secure your point/position.
Hence when you want you opponent to be pushed to their limit you use PE. You use psychological warfare, only with a difference. You try to edge the guy out. You use the old ‘sarcastic off hand comment’. You are messing with his head. And he knows that. You try to upset him by being patient with him or by being friendly to him. Worse, you are friendly to his friends. He gets the same feeling that he would have if he was elbowed in the stomach. His body convolutes and he has pretty much lost his appetite. Sounds horrible doesn’t it. It is. Believe me. Having had used this I know its pretty hard living with yourself if you do employ this technique. But it also is very efficient. I did PE the person out in about a week and they had to answer back.
So I suggest use this only in great need.

Okay so a word of advice here, the above stated theories are for (private) enjoyment. Do not judge me on it or worse question me on it.

Nothing In This World - Makes Good Marketing Sense!!!

Do you know
What it’s like
When it’s wrong
But it feels so right?
(Nothing In This World)

Yes dear friends,..that is Paris Hilton's song's lyrics!!

Paris Whitney Hilton!!
heiress, celebutante, singer, model, actress and television personality.
And yes I am a fan,..of the lady (and she is a lady) and the song.

You know thats the fun in being me. I can get away with such, as my friends would put it, 'irrational' choices. And they are right most of the time. My habits are irrational, random, erratic at best. A good example would be my new found passion for The OC and Ryan Atwood.
But that is best left for another post.

This time let me tell you why Paris Hilton. To be able to understand this question, you need to know her life a bit.This 27 yr old party-freak is the oldest of four siblings and a part of the Hilton empire.The value of Paris' inheritance is estimated at between $30 and $50 million.Hilton has so far worked as a model, actress, musician, and businesswoman. According to Forbes Magazine, she earned approximately $2 million in 2003–2004$6.5 million in 2004–2005, and $7 million in 2005–2006.Hilton is known for her love of small dogs, including a Yorkshire Terrier and a female Chihuahua named Tinkerbell, who has "authored" a memoir, The Tinkerbell Hilton Diaries.

Impressive huh??
The fact I am pushing here is that one, she is self sufficient in her expenses, and two of the four Hilton siblings she is the most popular. Nicky is known more as Paris's sister than anything else.

Our party girl has created a "brand" of her own. She is a fragrance, footwear range, a night club, clothing line, purses amongst others. More importantly she is a lifestyle. Yes. The pink and the chihuahua and the party girl image. Girls aspire to be her (however wrong or right it is). Pretty much a marketing guru in this area, isnt she??!!

Another thing I love about her is that she loves what she is doing, and does not give excuses for her actions. She did not till lately over the driving issue..(Again, wrong or right...)

I agree with her self given title of "iconic blonde of the decade".Not that she doesnt have her negatives... Her constant need to be in lime-light(which I can relate to), constant partying and complete and utter disrespect for authority etc etc...but which one of us doesnt have negatives...and to have each one of our moves being monitored we will be subject to make more mistakes than usual.

I am not defending or rationalising her actions. Thats not what I am here for. You see, think of 10 to 15 years in future. Having created a name for herself in whatever fashion she has at least made sure no one forgets her.
Ever!!!!

Titanic: the ship of dreams...

Okay, so this one has no fancy prolougue...but is just "straight from the gut"...

After hours of endless/useless TV viewing, I stumbled across an old favourite of mine, Titanic. Its not very festive in its mood per se, but… But after a long time, I missed someone. I missed him tonight as I saw the old lady reminiscence about a lost love. And I wondered how alike our lives are, or in fact would be. The first few fumbled steps to the mere few hours it took for her to fall for him, to the doubts and anger and finally the moment she lost it all. And I wondered, after all this is over, after I am through with this God forsaken MBA and married, after I have had children and grandchildren and seen more deaths than births, after I have lived the “best years” of my life, and while I lay awake at night, will I still sometimes wonder about ‘what if’, will my mind wander into that arena again. Will I still in some corner of my heart hope that…will I still love him, miss him, long to hear his voice and be angry at what he had said or not said. Will we still be friends? No, probably not. It’ll be too hard. And so will I, in my senile stage wonder out loud, or will I keep my disappointments close to my heart, as Rose did. Will I still write of him, for him, to him? Will I still forsake my nights sleep to write about that magical time in life, when I realised what love means. Will it still hurt the way it did, or matter of fact, does.

The one thing I love about this movie is that every time I watch it I cry. I cry because I see it in a different light every time. The first time I cried was because Leonardo di’Caprio died, the second time I cried because someone’s love died, third because I felt what if that happened to me, and now I cried because I know more now than I ever did. I cried because Rose didnt let go.

And so as I try to sleep this cold Febuary night, trying to get over him, thinking about all that, that could have been there had I not fallen, as I try to feel okay not seeing him and as I hope for a better tomorrow, I know,… I know I will be there one day with Rose, at the ledge, reminded of him, deciding finally to let the diamond go… and I will hear the bagpipes in the background and with my lungs filled with the salty breeze of the sea, feel, “ a life well lived!!"

For an old friend...

(part of my newest endeavour to publish most of my works...)


For an old friend

This is for you friend,
Here comes the end,
Of our love, our friendship,
If only you could understand my worship,
For us, you and me.

I hope it was all worth it,
Whatever it was, that you did,
What you did,
Throwing our friendship away,
For what, you didn’t say.

I hoped that you’d call and maybe,
Want to know how I was doing,
It seems not much to ask for,
But then I am a stupid being.

I feel like you are laughing at me,
Reading this confession,
But you can call this poem yours,
And show it to the one,
The one you care about…

Let me know the truth, if you like this poem,
Or the feeling behind it.


26/01/06
“jaded”

My best friend's wedding!!

This is the song that I presented D with on the night of her sangeet ceremony... (Moseltoff)

With you around I know I’ll never be alone,
And I should have written u a song before,
God knows, I wasted all my words on silly boys,
When none of them gave even an iota of joy,
That you have given me, my soul sister, my best friend,
My love for you sees no end.

You are the reasons why I am so free,
You are the one who still believes in me,
You are the reason why I still believe in love,
You are the reason why I thank God above.

You were there to hold my hand if the times were rough,
You were there when I fell, and helped me up,
You were there to scream at me when I was wrong,
You were there to tell me that I belong.

And I never want you to think twice,
Before calling, if you need advice,
I promise ill be there to make it alright.
I promise, even if it’s the middle of the night.

This is not my wedding gift to you,
This is not a way to say thank you,
This is my way of telling you,
That I love you.

My baby is getting married...

Okay if you arent aware of the above stated fact then probably you have been in a coma for the past 10 odd days. Cos i am wedding crazy these days. My BFF is getting married.(again, if you dont know what i mean by BFF...)
its a weird feeling seeing her gearing up to be someone's wife!! WIFE...my gawd,...soon enough shall follow kids... MOTHER!!!
lord...i guess seeing her do all of this makes me wake up and realise that my parents probably wont let me get away with acting 15 all the time and perhaps would even like to get me married off...as ghastly as that sounds...i know marrying off a queen isnt all that easy either- for reference see movie:- princess diaries 2:royal engagement.
ok, so i am blabbering. but yea, i had some of my other classmates getting married as soon as they left the JMC premises for good, on the fateful march 2006 days, but that did not "upset" HRH that much... maybe because its D, my D. my silly D who spent her days acting kiddish...i was the adult in that relationship...so really my BABY is getting married and i am freaked out for very potent reasons:
1. its like your twin getting married...u HAVE to freak
2. no, no...its even worst,...its ur younger sister getting married(altho chronologically D is 8 months older!!)...and you the older career woman suddenly realise the self-created pressure is on.
3.you realise that the "have-u-met-mr.xyz's-son" is not far away...
and lastly and more importantly;
4.you realise that you arent the only important 20-something year old in her life. that you can no longer guilt her by asking if she'd choose over a date with her Boyfriend or her Bestfriend!! that the val-day dates at dilli haat are now a memory. that he has equal if not more of a right. and yea, he will also be a party to all of "OUR" conversations!! bitter sweet realities of life, eh?!!

but then again you dont lose a bestfriend, you gain a beautiful, naughty, flirty age old relationship of "jija-saali"...
and since neither of us have real sisters, this is my only ticket to "jija-land".
so here, i raise my glass to you, D and Ro: my favorite couple in the www!!!

PS. i will only babysit your kids if at least one of them is named after me...and no middle naming or adopting dogs as "a family member" and naming them....HRH doesnt fetch and smell other people!!

Finding Meghu...

Different circumstances makes you react differently. That’s a constant. Right?
You assume you know your differing behaviour; that it’s somehow predictable; that you in fact do have some power over it. But in life comes a time when you aren’t able, physically or mentally to do that. The things you do are surprising even to you. You do things which are uncharacteristically you. But you are surprised not shocked. Because you knew, you knew you are capable of it.
The difficult part is not realising how difficult it is to control yourself or going into a dialogue of why’s and how’s. It is, in fact, coming to terms how an ugly a person you really are. And you will, in most probability, be able to live with it. As horrific it sounds you will be able to live with it. What as ‘young adults’ we don’t realise is that, “you’ll be surprised at what you can live with” as one adulterous oncologist once said. He wasn’t a bad man. No, not at all. He saved lives. He went to sleep peacefully and lived life with great vigour.
But even you would know things aren’t exactly hunky-dory. You will realise that you can’t look
yourself in the eye anymore.

Sabbatical continues...

Sometimes in life children we have to take some very difficult decisions. They might be for our own well being(mental and otherwise) and sometimes they are for others benefits. and sometimes these decisions fall flat on their face.

Ok... fine... i'll get to the point. the fact i am trying to push here is that after having taken almost one month's sabbatical, I am still not back. i need some more time. it is a difficult decision deciding not to start writing yet but this for our own good.
Hence just a check-in, a little harmless trip to the market that is allowed to the rehab-patients. You know, try and remember Britney here, people!

The hard part is maybe i have lost my inspiration..but the excruciating part is on this journey of self discovery i have discovered (wait for the irony here) i don't like the person that i am. :(