Monday, January 12, 2015

The futility of love...

Sometimes you cry silently, under your breath because the pain feels difficult to bear and too heavy to part with. Sometimes all you want to do is ignore, love a person anyway. But the throbbing ache in your heart never ceases. Ah the irony of it. While several of them, living under the same roof are barely steps away from shredding each other to pieces, yours is an everlasting wait. You forget the details of his face, how his nose crinkles when he smiles or the quiet dimple resting on his cheek.

God’s unfair. You rest your case. Otherwise why are some people together and distance is deciding the fate of others? And why can’t you enjoy his company without continually preparing yourself for the eventual parting? And when the moment comes, why must you breathe profusely and immerse yourself in work, so that you don’t have to worry about a timid heart, sinking into the shallow waters, in which his ship sails away.

The futility of love has never been clearer. He wants a husky and you are okay with just about anything as long as there is a dog in the house. You feel the need to text him sweet nothings, even when you are sitting on a pot, relieving yourself. You open your eyes to his messages and his are the final words you find yourself smiling at, before dozing off at night. Even when you are cynical and downright absurd, he makes you feel great about yourself. When it is his mistake, he is quick to apologise and crack an obnoxious joke which somehow restores the balance in the universe.

The futility of love has never been clearer. It lets you be, even when you are not. 

Thursday, January 1, 2015

One step at a time

“Just when you think it can't get any worse, it can. And just when you think it can't get any better, it can.” 

Next month I complete five years of writing on this nondescript online entity. Whenever things have gotten horribly out of hand, I have returned to this blog, repeatedly, desperately to perhaps mend a broken heart or one which doesn't know how to tackle grief. And also to harbour the dream of being a decent writer one day. A dream which many a times feels lost in the drudgery of everyday life which demands that every inconsequential thing gets your attention, except for what you truly aspire towards.

Coming back to my blog, Right Kind of Wrong, whose title is from the Leann Rimes song of the same name. I had heard it for the first time in the film Coyote Ugly... the story of a girl who aspires to be a songwriter but is quite unsure of her capabilities to make it big. Her insecurities about her own talent still resonates with me when I try and come to terms with what I want to do with my life. And hanging from the cliff with just one badly bruised arm holding on to a rock can be quite risky, because the rock may wobble down anytime... dragging you along with it.

But come what may, there will be many to nudge and remind you that you need to keep at it. Like my editor did today while checking one of the pages I had worked on.

"See, this is how you make a copy better. Remember this, you know, for when you write that book of yours."

He had me grinning for the next two minutes. 

Baby steps. The ones that you took as an infant, will they ever matter when you are able to stand straight on your feet and hike across hills? 

Probably not. But they will remind you of how far you have come and how far you can go.